We're Not Strangers Anymore

Chapter Thirteen - Charlie's Nightmare

For four hours straight, Charlie had been tossing and turning. The bedsheets were now on the floor and as for the pillows, well, they were halfway across the room.
'Get out,' he mumbled, 'I won't let you take me.'
He hesitantly snapped his eyes open and quickly came to a terrifying reality; he was in Jamie Manley's basement.
'Jamie?' He mumbled again, this time much more anxious, a hundred times more scared. He called out again.
'Jamie? Where are you?'
But Jamie was closer than he'd initially thought - he was right at the foot of his bed.
'Charlie, hey!'
Hmm. Seems a little upbeat given the circumstances, but whatever.
Charlie took a few moments to get his head together and ponder a few things. He thought about the forbidden nature of the basement, and how he probably shouldn't have ended up in there in the first place. There was a knock at the basement door.
'Jamie? Are you down there? Is everything alright, son?'
It sounded like his mother.
'Yeah I'm down here, and I most certainly am okay. Are you?'
There was silence.
'Yes,' she finally responded, 'yes I am honey. I'll be a couple of minutes and then I'll come and get you. I'm just sorting your father out.'
Another voice spoke from behind the door: 'You dirty bitch.'
A sinister cackle announced itself from the top of the stairs, before the door eventually opened. Charlie sat completely frozen.
'Jamie.. it's your Dad. Are you ready?'
'Ready for what, Dadda?'
'For your punishment, of course. Silly boy. Isn't he silly, Mary?'
Mary Manley giggled.
'Aye. He is that.'
'No, I simply must punish the boy,' his father yelled, his tone of voice changing dramatically with the final sentence.
Jamie tried with all his might to move, but he couldn't. It just wasn't possible. The deafening sound of heavy footsteps flooded the basement now, as well as light. Bright daylight that poured into the basement and down the stairs like a waterfall, a waterfall that had no particular flow.
Charlie scratched his face and looked straight at Jamie this time, hoping for some penultimate words of comfort. There was nothing - Jamie was dead. Charlie screamed, grabbing the duvet and attempting to use it to mask his pleading.
'No! I'll never let you take him, you sick fuck!'
'That language,' spoke Jamie's father, half-naked and full of pent-up anger, 'is unacceptable, do you hear me young man? A punishment for you too, me thinks.'
Mary Manley placed her soft hands on the hardened wall and took a step down, placing her bare feet onto the first stair.
'You should have never been dragged into this, Charlie love. I'm sorry.'
Charlie tried to scream again but couldn't; someone had temporarily removed his voice box.
Mr Manley was clutching a considerably large baseball bat, groaning as he bent his neck to scratch it. He walked past Charlie's bed, missing it entirely, and kissed Jamie on the forehead.
'You'll never be a firefighter, son. Too fat to even dream of that.'
Jamie's Dad began to stroke his son's stomach, kissing it as he lifted his shirt.
'I'm sorry, son. I truly am. I never meant for your friend to discover my little.. well, shall we say.. office?'
'Your basement!' Charlie screamed, 'get off of him! Leave Jamie out of this! This was all my fault!'
There was nothing holding Charlie back, but he felt as if there was - almost as if a thousand chains were slowly pulling him closer and closer to the mattress, forcing him to stay stationary. He felt sick to the stomach.
'Please, leave him alone!'
'I'm sorry, young Charlie, but you'll have to wait your turn. I'm dealing with Jamie just now.'
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. Examining it, Mr Manley grinned.
His eyes were now bleeding from the sockets they sat in.
'Jamie! No!'
Charlie began to sob. He fixated onto his best friend, noticing something rather unnerving.
That's it. I know what that is.
'Say goodnight to your little friend, Jamie.'
'No! Mr Manley, please! Take me instead!'
A chelsea smile.
'Don't do it! Get off of him, please!'
Mr Manley raised the small blade to his son's face, poking the sharp end into the left-hand corner of his lip.
'NO!'
He's giving him a chelsea smile. Lord, please, if you're listening.. Make it stop! Just make it stop already!
Two minutes flew by like the wind, and the time had now arrived. It was Charlie's turn to smile.