Thursday, September 28, 2017

The Face in The Window

The Face In The Window
By Michael Cannata  

He never should've let his son watch that horror movie Friday night, but his son begged him incessantly. 

"All my friends have seen it. It's so cool, dad," he pleaded, "I won't get scared!" 

He recalled sitting up and watching the late night horror shows when he was a kid. It never hurt him any. He finally relented. To his relief, his son didn't have nightmares, at least that night. On Sunday night, he was awakened by his son's terrified screams.

He rushed to his son's room to find him shaking in terror. He swore there was a man with a mask lurking outside his window. He insisted the man had a knife and ran away when he started screaming. He checked outside for any signs of an intruder but found nothing. It took him hours to settle his son down. His son begged him to believe him. He promised him he did. Inside, he knew it was a horrible nightmare caused by that stupid movie.

It happened again, two nights later. Again, he checked for signs of an intruder. He spent the rest of the night sitting beside his trembling son, comforting him and protecting him from, "That crazy guy who was trying to kill him!" No matter how much he reassured his son he was safe in his room, his son insisted the man was trying to get in and kidnap him.

"Why don't you believe me, dad?" he asked his father, tears streaming down his face. He tried to sound sincere and told his son he did believe him. He hoped he sounded believable. He cursed himself again for letting him watch that damn movie.

Twice more that week it happened again. Now, he was really beginning to worry. The movie had done more damage to his son than he ever expected. His son was living in fear day and night. He had to get help and soon.

After talking with his son's pediatrician, the doctor prescribed a sedative to help his son sleep through the night. They scheduled an appointment with the best child psychologist they could find on Monday.

Monday morning, he went to his son's room to wake him for the trip to the therapist. His son's bed was empty. Pinned to the pillow was a note, written in blood.

"You should have believed him," was all it said.

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