Chapter 4

I was dreaming again. Son-of-a-bitch.

This time I was in Pete's Bowl-A-Rama, of all places. It looked like it was in the same shape as the rest of the town: shitty.

I was standing in the lanes; looking around again.

I still go to Pete's every so often, so I knew what it should have looked like. It looked like a throw-back to the 50s; everything was antique. There had been a lot of wood finishes, and for some reason; a lot of green crap.

Now, it still looked antique- just not in the good way.

The wood was all beat-up and smashed. And the green paint was gone; replaced by green mold. Ick.

Behind me, I suddenly heard a steady chewing noise. Loud, and nauseating.

I turned to find a fat fuck sitting at one of those little desks where they keep score. He was inhaling what appeared to be a large, cheese pizza. He didn't seem to care that he was sitting in a room that looked like someone had chucked a grenade into it. The pig.

I was repulsed.

Before I knew it, some kid popped up. A little blond girl, and she looked oddly annoyed about something. She promptly strolled up to the fat bastard, and lit into him like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't hear much of the conversation, but it seemed that she was pissed at him for just sitting on his ass and eating pizza, when he should be out there fighting. Whatever she was saying must have had an impact, 'cause he looked almost like he was gonna cry.

Though she couldn't hear me, I was applauding her.

Somewhere in the front rooms, I heard a crash. The kid, hearing this, took off like a bat out of hell. She disappeared through the exit. A person came through the double doors, a tense- and oddly sheepish- look on his young face. I studied the guy for a minute.

Holy crap. It's him. The prick from the Park.

He jogged up to the fat guy. He asked him if he had seen Laura.

Laura? Must've been the kid's name. Hmm… I liked it.

The fat guy responded, calling blondie by name- James.

James?? James Sunderland?? The plot thickens…

So, Fat Guy said that James had just missed the kid.

This was, apparently, not what Blondie Bear here was hoping to hear. He launched into a self-righteous snit; berating the fat dude- Eddie- for letting a little kid run off with "those things" running around town.

On one level, I agreed with James. If it was like this all over town, no kid she be out there alone. On the other hand, he didn't have to be such a man-bitch about it.

James ran out the door, chasing after the kid.

I wished him luck, and then I-

Woke up. I looked around. Still in Brookhaven… fuck.

I was oddly pissed off now. I remembered the visit from Mary Sunderland, and I remember her slipping something into my IV. I remembered my wife and kids coming to visit me- and the fact that I scared the shit out of them by seeing something else over them… the thing with the Pyramid-Shaped Head…

I jerked around, worried. Seeing that it was clear- no demons in here, sir!- I relaxed.

Which didn't last long- I suddenly remembered another visitor from last night… a blond nurse… with pink tips.

She must have dosed me again, which would explain why I'm the James Sunderland Psychic Hotline.

Suffice it to say, I was not a happy-camper. I hit the call button so much I half-expected it to burst into flame.

To my surprise, it wasn't a nurse who appeared. It was a young woman, barely more than a teenager.

Finally noticing the pink-and-white striped outfit she was donning, I deflated. A candy-striper. Yay.

I looked at the name-tag, Hi! My name is Claudia Wolf! It declared.

"Can I help you Mr. Daniels?" she asked me. Her voice was oddly soothing.

"Uh-mm, nothing. I'm sorry, I think I just had a nightmare…" I stammered.

She gave me a warm smile. "Well, I suppose it's to be expected, all things considered." She replied.

She pulled something off of a tray. It was a notebook. Leather-bound, and blue. She also picked up a few pens. "Here." She said. "Maybe if you write everything down that you see and hear, perhaps it'll make you feel more at-ease."

I took the items gratefully. "Thank you."

She smiled sweetly again. She left quietly.

I sat there for awhile, just thinking to myself. It was nice.

I picked up my pen and started to write.

May 5th: Claudia the Candy-Striper, whom I just met today, gave me a journal. God knows why. I suppose it'll keep me busy, though.

I've been starting to have these weird dreams, and I don't know why I'm having them. Maybe it has something to do with Mary Sunderland appearing in my room at night, and injecting me with some white fluid. Or, maybe it's just post-traumatic-stress. Who the hell knows?

Hmmm, it's starting to look a little cloudy out. Maybe it'll rain soon…

I put my pen down, and I instantly felt relieved. Who knew that one little volunteer would know just what I needed?

I found myself grinning despite myself. I spent the rest of the day staring out the window, watching the clouds idle by. It was nice.

I was so relaxed that, later that night, I didn't even notice when, outside my door, Claudia the Candy-Striper handed a syringe to a now familiar blond nurse…

::AUTHOR'S NOTES AGAIN!:: Yes, I know this was short, but I got stuck.