Before you start this story has exactly 2,273 words which is average for a short story :P but wanted to make those aware of it anyway here it is


It was a dream, only in his dreams could this place exist. Only in dreams could this room exist. The room with the pink walls, the drawings he had done of her favorite Disney characters plastered permanently amongst the walls. He knew he was standing at the entrance to the room but he had a hard time looking away from the room to check out any other environment around him. It was this room that scared him, the one that ran cold chills through his entire body and put gooseflesh on his arms.

Did he hear footsteps behind him? His heart seemed to stop as he held his breath to listen…. Quiet… Entirely quiet, not even the sound of a bird singing its song outside. He stepped into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, a pink stuffed rabbit rolled off and landed on the floor. Mr. Wiggles, it was her favorite. The thought of his six year old daughter crying at night because she couldn’t find him. Him promising to find it, her assured smile, the memory was too much.

He felt the tears roll down his cheek before he was even aware of the fact that he was going to cry. He hugged the rabbit to him as the tears continue to fall, he didn’t think he would ever stop.

“Daddy?” The voice was so soft, but so…. So close. He jumped out the bed, the stuffed rabbit finding a new home at his feet. He looked where the voice came from but saw nothing but an empty bed. No child laying under the covers, his daughter wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t there… She hasn’t been there for at least five years.

“Don’t you love me daddy?” This time her voice was whispering right into his ear. He fell backwards into the wall as he jumped away from the voice, a sharp pain ran through his side as it smashed into the wall. He looked at where he was standing and saw nothing but what was there before. A sense of panic rushed through him, was this a dream? Could a dream be this…. This vivid? This cruel?

“Lizzie?” Her name came out only as a whisper, his throat clenched at the mentioning of her name. He cleared his throat and tried it again. “Lizzie?” The name escaped his mouth and his heart clenched, as it always did when he tried to talk about her after the accident.

There was no response, he chuckled softly to himself. Of course there was no response, how could there be? This room doesn’t exist, not outside of his memories anyway. This was a dream, but it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt much worse then that, he wasn’t sure why but he knew something wasn’t right about the dream idea.

He stood up and made his way to the door, he could see the hallway outside the doorway. It was exactly how he had remembered it, and how many times had he stood in that doorway to make sure Lizzie was asleep? To ensure that she was safe? How many times did he wish he could do exactly that again within the last few years? He felt the tears start to work themselves up and pushed them back.

“Don’t leave me!” The scream was so loud, so dominate, so.. scared. He turned to look behind him as soon as he heard it. There was still nothing there but there was something different. He looked to see Mr. Wiggles back on the bed, the gooseflesh ran a new course through his arms. He couldn’t stay in this room any longer, to do so would be to invite madness. He turned around quickly and walked outside the room into the hallway.

He looked at the pictures in the frames that had always been there. Pictures of his family, of him and Lizzie, of his wife Jennifer, and the ones with them all together. There was a name picture added amongst the collection though, the frame didn’t match the black frames of the others. It was an old silver frame, an antique, like the ones he remembered his mother having when he was a child.

As he made his way to the picture he noticed it wasn’t a picture but a newspaper article. It had browned in age, the photo shown on it had faded but he didn’t need to see it anyway to know what it was. It was the picture of the house he was standing in right now, the flames erupting from the windows, the ashes falling from the sky. The gathering of people outside standing there watching like the congregation of the last hope society as his memories burnt to the ground.

“House Fire Claims Two.” The title read in big black bold letters. He didn’t need to read the article to know the rest. He took the frame from the wall and threw it across the hall. He watched it fly and as it was about to hit the ground, it disappeared. He stood there looking at the floor where it should of hit, his mouth ajar, his mind completely bewildered.

A glimmer of light beside him caught his eye and he turned to noticed a flickering of sunlight reflecting off an antique silver frame on the wall from where it once stood so dominantly before he removed it just a few seconds ago. The article was fresher now, almost as if it had just been printed. He backed away from the article and felt the wall block him from going any further.

“It’s your fault.” A voice said from somewhere in the room. It wasn’t a voice he knew, this mans voice was something new. It felt foreign, but he felt as though he should know it. Had he heard it before?

“No it’s not! It’s not my fault!!” He shouted at the nothing that surrounded him. As soon as the words escaped him, a soft chuckle came from beside him. He jumped away from it, he could feel the breath of the chuckle against his neck.

He stumbled at first, his feet not seeming to want to obey the command he was giving them. Once they gathered their bearing he took off down the hall, running as fast as he could. He went to the front door and opened it, the sun faded instantly, the stars now shone outside and the full moon glared down out at him.

That wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks, what prevented him from leaving entirely was the congregation that had amassed in front of the house. All familiar faces, the same people that had showed up that night. All of them staring at him their eyes appearing to accuse him of all the wrongs in the world.

The man in the front, Mr. Dell his name was, who had been his neighbor for over seven years was the first to move. He lifted his hand and pointed a finger at the house. No that wasn’t right, he pointed a finger at him.

“You can’t leave.” He said, the words cold and emotionless. The others around him lifted their fingers to point at him too. He wanted to ask why? He wanted to demand them to tell him what was going on. He wanted to run right past them and escape this nightmare. He wanted to do all of these things but something stopped him, he felt unable to move, to speak, to react to anything going on.

“Daddy? What are you doing? Don’t you love me anymore?” He turned to see Lizzie standing by the couch in the living room. Her auburn hair a mess, as it always was when she first woke up and her green eyes glaring at him with the innocence only a child’s can possess. She stood there in her pink nightie and Mr. Wiggles in her arms.

“Lizzie?” The words came out dry, and he had to swallow hard before he tried again.

“Lizzie? Is that you sweetie?” He was already taking steps towards her as the words escaped. She looked at him confused, as if she didn’t understand who else she could be.

“Of course it’s me daddy.” She said with a slight smile on her face as if to say “You silly man.” When he got close enough he reached out and brushed the stray hairs away from her face. The feel of her was real enough and he got down on his knee’s and pulled her into his arms. She stiffened from the quickness of it but melted quickly and hugged him back.

“I love you so much baby girl.” He said through his tears, the feel of her was almost to good to be true. He had wanted to feel her in his arms again for so long and now that she was there he never wanted to let her go.

“I love you too daddy, but I can’t stay. He won’t let me stay, daddy, he won’t let me stay.” The sadness in her voice was so desperate, so sad, that he could feel his heart sink into his stomach.

“What do you mean baby? Who won’t let you stay? You’re with me now, you’re safe, I won’t let anything happen to you ever again.” Every other word seemed to get stuck in his throat.

Her scream seemed to shatter his ear drum, but he still didn’t want to let her go. The pain in the scream only made him want to hold her tighter, but it only took him a few seconds to realize that she wasn’t in his arms. Was she ever there? He had felt her, he could still smell the smell of her watermelon shampoo. She was there, he knew she was there.

For the first time in five years he felt rage, he stood up and started throwing whatever could be thrown, the sounds of smashing glass, of furniture being shattered, all the things he worked for being broken in a matter of minutes. After destroying all he could he leaned against the wall and felt himself sinking to the floor.

He didn’t care, this house, this memory, he didn’t care. His baby needs him, just as she needed him then and just like back then he’s helpless to do anything. The tears were flowing in a constant stream, and again he didn’t care. The chuckle came from beside him again, the softness of the breath caressing his cheek. He didn’t budge.

“She’s waiting for you.” The voice from the hall said, it sounded happier this time. As if seeing all this pain only made it grin a thousand smiles.

“What?” Was the only thing he could say. He decided to leave rationality out of it, nothing about any of this seemed rational.

“Go look, go back to the room. She wants you to be with her, she needs you. Go be with her, you know what you need to do.”

He knew the voice was gone, he didn’t know how he knew but he knew it had said what it had to and now was gone. He stood up and walked down the hall and into his daughters room. In the middle of the room was a red gas can and a silver zippo lighter.

He made his way to the gas can slowly and picked it up, feeling its weight under his fingers. He removed the cap and could smell the gasoline inside of it. He knew how he could be with her.

“Daddy? I need you daddy!” Her voice came from the bed, he didn’t look. He poured the gasoline out, making sure to cover the doorway and the window first to block his way of escape. He couldn’t chicken out, he had to be there for her, she needed him. The smell of gasoline flooded his nostrils.

Once the can was empty he dropped it, hearing the faint thud as it hit the floor. He sat down on the edge of her bed and light the zippo. The flame flickering as it came to life and he dropped it to the floor. He watched as the flames spread out across the room and then he felt it, what he had been wanting to feel for so long, he felt her arms around him.

“Daddy! What are you doing!” Her voice was panicked but only cause she was worried he might not accomplish it. He might mess it up and not be with her, but he wouldn’t let this happen. He took her into his arms and held her close to him. She struggled slightly but that was alright, it was going to be alright.

“I love you so much baby girl.” He said as the flames reached him and the gasoline on his pants. Before she could respond the flames had made their way to both of them. He had done it, he was going to be with her forever…

The congregation of lost hopes stood outside and watched as the flames ate away at the house. Their faces turning from blue to red from the sirens of the fire trucks that were arriving at the scene. The reporters had shown up to get the scoop, a story for their eleven o’clock news.

The next day the paper will release an article, one with a picture of a house sputtering flames, ashes falling from the sky as people stand outside of it watching it burn. The article will have in big bold black letters “House Fire Claims Two.”