I was immediately transported to a scorching hot boiler room. One that reeked of death and decay.
I had such strong senses that I couldn't tell if I was awake or asleep.
Then, a voice boomed from nowhere in particular.
"So, Daddy dearest has decided to ditch you, too? Poor little baby. What a shame!"
Whatever it was started to laugh. An evil laugh that sent chills down my spine.
I decided to start looking around.
That coward. I wasn't ashamed. My parents and I were never close. Or I wouldn't have gone to that awful institution.
There wasn't much to tell about the place.
Rats, pipes, some more rats, and some more pipes. Pretty boring besides the voice, and the fact it was probably one hundred degrees in here.
The lanky figure abruptly appeared in the dark. He was closer this time, but I still couldn't make out his features.
"Wanna see true fear, kid?" he asked.
The question must have been rhetorical, because he immediately stepped forward.
His face was heavily burnt. He wore black pants, a red and green Christmas- like sweater, and a dusty brown fedora. His one hand was gloved with sharp, thin blades on each fingertip. In a way he looked a bit comical, but I was still scared.
He disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared right in front of me.
My arm was sliced with one quick movement.
I screamed, and woke up on the floor. My arm was still bleeding!
I heard them running up the stairs. They couldn't know! I wasn't going back!
They burst in.
"What happened?" the doctor questioned.
"Was it a bad dream?" my mother asked a bit too eagerly.
"No," I replied with a nonchalant expression, "Just fell, and hit my arm on the nightstand. Nothing serious."
I put on a phony smile, and hoped that they didn't see through my lies.
They nodded with identical grim looks. I guess they really want me to go back.
"That makes the three of us," a scratchy voice boomed in my head.