ELM STREET MEMORIES Pt. 2.

AUTHOR'S NOTE/DISCLAIMER

Direct continuation of Elm Street Bond. Yes, I know---different titles, but I've seen other series doe the same (7th Heaven, BTVS). I take Fred Krueger's back story, the glove, and a variation of the jump rope song from NOES, which belongs to Wes Craven and put it in here. 21 Jump Street belongs to Stephen J. Cannel.

PROLOGUE: BAD NEWS

LATER THAT SAME DAY

A group of teens sat around a living room, drinking beer and watching the news.

"Man, this is the life," Dennis Leary stated, nursing the can in his hand.

"It sure is," Tommy Rogers agreed, taking a big gulp of beer.

"I'll drink to that," George Parsons stated, doing the action.

"Dude, you'll drink to anything," Tommy teased. Everyone laughed.

"Hey, turn it up," George's best friend, Larry Swanson requested. George did as he was told.

"And in breaking news, child murder and rapist, Fredrico Torres was released earlier today," the anchorwoman announced.

"You believe this trash?" Larry asked in disgust. Tommy froze, the can mid-way to his mouth. All he could see was him. That smile, those clothes…the can dropped to the floor and he heard someone calling him from far away.

"Tommy?" a voice asked. Someone shaking him brought the boy out of his reverie.

"You all right?" Larry asked.

"I'm, uh---I'm gonna be sick," Tommy stammered, and then raced to the bathroom. As soon as he got there, Tom Hanson immediately upchucked into the sink.

"Tommy? You all right, man?" a voice asked. Receiving no answer, Dennis Booker came beside his friend. "Tommy, what is it?" he questioned.

"He's out. Oh, man. He's out," Tom whispered.

"Who? That guy on the news?" Dennis queried.

"How---how am I supposed to tell the others? We---we thought this was behind us. And now---" Tom leaned over the sink again and continued retching.

"Hey, is everything okay in here?" one of the other boys asked, appearing in the doorway.

"Uh, Tommy's feelin' a little sick. I'm gonna go take him home," Dennis said.

"Yeah. All right. Hope he feels better," the boy commented.

"Yeah, thanks," Dennis stated. Then, "Come on, Tommy. Let's get you outta here." With that, he led his friend out the door and to his apartment.

"You okay? You want me to get you somethin'?" Booker offered. Not that I know where anything is, he thought to himself.

"There's---um, I think---a bottle of scotch in the top right cabinet. Man, I need a drink," Tom answered shakily. Dennis quickly got the bottle and poured two glasses as they sat at the kitchen table.

"What's going on, man?" he wondered.

"Trust me, man. You don't want to know," was the answer. Then, he quickly downed his glass. Dennis watched as Tom poured himself another glass.

"Tom, are you sure that's wise?" Dennis asked.

"Bite me with a twirling lawnmower," Tom shot back.

"Jeez. Don't bite my head off," Dennis muttered. He sat back and watched as his friend continued to drink.