DREAM-CATCHER
“You look terrible,” she said, handing him another cup of coffee.
Edgar looked exhaustedly with blood-shot eyes at the waitress who handed him his piping hot drink.
“I feel terrible,” he said, “Haven’t gotten sleep in almost five days already.”
“Why? Somethin’ bugging you?” the waitress asked in her old, raspy voice.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Edgar lied. He’d been having nightmares endlessly since the incident.
“Come on,” the waitress begged, “You can tell me. I never hear anything exciting these days. It’s like this whole town’s been off lately.”
Off was correct. The small town of Pittensburg was much less quieter than usual. Edgar would always hear these strange scratching sounds at his door and open it to see that no one was there. …show more content…
“I’m not sure, ask this crack-head” the landlord said pointing a big, fat thumb at Edgar.
At this point Edgar was furious. “The cat!” he screamed, “Didn’t you see me get attacked by the strange cat thing? It had really big teeth a-and no eyes! NO EYES, PEOPLE!”
The he remembered: There was blood! The blood will prove everything!
“Look,” he said while lifting up his shirt. “Don’t you see the gargantuan gouge it made in my stomach?”
The neighborhood stared at him even stupider.
“There’s nothing there!” the young boy explained, “Now can you put your shirt down? You’re giving me the squillies.”
Edgar looked down to see nothing there. Nothing but his pale and hairy abdomen. He was bewildered, confused, but most of all he was angry. Angry that he’d just made a fool of himself and that no one believed him.
“You know what?” he said, his voice sounding higher than usual, “I’ll just be on my way now.”
He pulled his keys out of his pocket and got in his rusty red car.
“What a tool!” the boy shouted. Everyone then went back into their house and the incident was never to be spoken of again. …show more content…
All that trouble just for another skeptic. He began to sip at his coffee, when he caught someone staring at him. He didn’t know what else to do but stare back. For two minutes the staring went on until finally, the stranger walked over to him. He sat down across from Edgar and folded his hands. He looked very mysterious; he wore leather gloves, an old trench coat, and a black fedora. It was a bit generic. His old grey hair peaked through his hat and his nose hooked in a long claw.
“I believe you,” he said.
At first, Edgar didn’t know what he was talking about. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“The cat thing. It’s real. That cat is a nightmare demon. And I know how to stop it.”
Edgar’s eyes began to bulge. “Stop it? How? I need to know, I can’t take the lack of sleep anymore.”
“This,” the old man whispered and reached into his trench coat. Out came a dream-catcher like no other. It was a light cyan color and the strings were woven with spider webs. The beads were made with black jewels and the feathers were the softest one could feel.
“A dream-catcher?”
“A dream-catcher,” the old man repeated, “Hang it above your head tonight. It’ll make all the worth-while.”
Edgar took the dream-catcher from the man’s fingers and examined it. It gave him some sort of eerie tinge.
“Thanks,” he said and looked up. The man was
“You look terrible,” she said, handing him another cup of coffee.
Edgar looked exhaustedly with blood-shot eyes at the waitress who handed him his piping hot drink.
“I feel terrible,” he said, “Haven’t gotten sleep in almost five days already.”
“Why? Somethin’ bugging you?” the waitress asked in her old, raspy voice.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Edgar lied. He’d been having nightmares endlessly since the incident.
“Come on,” the waitress begged, “You can tell me. I never hear anything exciting these days. It’s like this whole town’s been off lately.”
Off was correct. The small town of Pittensburg was much less quieter than usual. Edgar would always hear these strange scratching sounds at his door and open it to see that no one was there. …show more content…
“I’m not sure, ask this crack-head” the landlord said pointing a big, fat thumb at Edgar.
At this point Edgar was furious. “The cat!” he screamed, “Didn’t you see me get attacked by the strange cat thing? It had really big teeth a-and no eyes! NO EYES, PEOPLE!”
The he remembered: There was blood! The blood will prove everything!
“Look,” he said while lifting up his shirt. “Don’t you see the gargantuan gouge it made in my stomach?”
The neighborhood stared at him even stupider.
“There’s nothing there!” the young boy explained, “Now can you put your shirt down? You’re giving me the squillies.”
Edgar looked down to see nothing there. Nothing but his pale and hairy abdomen. He was bewildered, confused, but most of all he was angry. Angry that he’d just made a fool of himself and that no one believed him.
“You know what?” he said, his voice sounding higher than usual, “I’ll just be on my way now.”
He pulled his keys out of his pocket and got in his rusty red car.
“What a tool!” the boy shouted. Everyone then went back into their house and the incident was never to be spoken of again. …show more content…
All that trouble just for another skeptic. He began to sip at his coffee, when he caught someone staring at him. He didn’t know what else to do but stare back. For two minutes the staring went on until finally, the stranger walked over to him. He sat down across from Edgar and folded his hands. He looked very mysterious; he wore leather gloves, an old trench coat, and a black fedora. It was a bit generic. His old grey hair peaked through his hat and his nose hooked in a long claw.
“I believe you,” he said.
At first, Edgar didn’t know what he was talking about. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“The cat thing. It’s real. That cat is a nightmare demon. And I know how to stop it.”
Edgar’s eyes began to bulge. “Stop it? How? I need to know, I can’t take the lack of sleep anymore.”
“This,” the old man whispered and reached into his trench coat. Out came a dream-catcher like no other. It was a light cyan color and the strings were woven with spider webs. The beads were made with black jewels and the feathers were the softest one could feel.
“A dream-catcher?”
“A dream-catcher,” the old man repeated, “Hang it above your head tonight. It’ll make all the worth-while.”
Edgar took the dream-catcher from the man’s fingers and examined it. It gave him some sort of eerie tinge.
“Thanks,” he said and looked up. The man was