{You should probably know: this is loosely based on the song "Jigsaw Girl" by The Toadies (hence le title "Freddy's Jigsaw Girl"). There are two ways to analyze the lyrics to said Toadies song. (1) the literal analysis: a guy chopped up his girlfriend and is trying to resurrect her. (2) the figurative analysis: a guy lost a girl very important to him and sees reminders of her everywhere. This fanfic is based so loosely on the figurative analysis.}
"Freddy's Jigsaw Girl"
Love me, Nancy, tell me you love me or hate me or fear me. Better yet, jot it down on a gum wrapper and let me hold onto it forever...
It was about ten years, give or take, since he'd last played with, or "played with" the girl. But he would watch her, still wanting, wanting her badly. Not even his death could end that. If anything, it just made him want her more, along with some revenge.
Still, she was his forbidden fruit; everything he wanted most yet everything he could never have. Be that as it may, there were reminders of her everywhere he looked. And as if that wasn't enough he could, and on many occasions did, look in her dreams and let her see him.
He wished he could keep her in the dream realm; hold her there forever. She was a bit different, sure, and definitely grown up. But he still saw the little girl, my little Nancy. He'd never lose his precious, little Nancy, he promised himself he'd never allow it.
Do you remember me Nancy? Do you? I remember you...
And he did. He remembered she was the only kid in the preschool who could be perfectly content with quietly sitting still. She wasn't like the others. She would sit in a corner and draw instead of running and screaming her head off or giggling up a storm. She was the freak of the bunch, like he once was long ago. That's what attracted him to her in the first place, they were birds of a feather.
Nancy, do you remember our box? You were such a photogenic child! How's about a lock of hair for our box? A new photo of you? Anything to remember you by...
The many possibilities gave him chills of excitement. An intimate reminder of her would do until he could keep her in his realm of nightmares forever. He knew, however, he never could. But, hey, a guy can dream, cant he?
The last time he watched the girl she looked so grown up his obsession with her seemed less unhealthy and almost legal. No matter how it looked to anyone else, he'd never leave her be. He promised himself he'd never lose her. And, by the demons that haunted his childhood as his witnesses, he'd keep his damn word.
He let his imagination go wild and enjoyed the image that conjured itself up. It was Nancy lying on his bed. Her messy, tangled hair covering the pillow, her insomniac eyes drooping half-closed, her legs opened wide in a torn nightgown, her hands folded over a rose placed on her chest. Like a twisted version of Sleeping Beauty. That's what he dreamed of: his precious, sweet, little Nancy all grown up and ready to be his.
And so, that night he'd pay her a special visit. Just to see her frightened face again. Just to taste her sweet fear as he once had before. So long ago, yes, but the fear in those brown eyes never changed. It was always fear. And I'd rather be feared than loved, if not both.
He tore into her dreams to scare her half to death. To see her beautiful, fearful face again...
. . . . .
Nancy woke up from another nightmare with the burned man. He looked at her with such a sick lust in his eyes, it thoroughly gave her the creeps.
She noticed the drawstrings on her too-big jammie pants came loose and she must have kicked them off in her sleep. But how did the drawstrings come loose when she double knotted them? And how did she kick her pants off and not her blankets?
She decided it wasn't important and went back to sleep.
. . . . .
