I had finished the eggs that mom had left on the table from not even an hour earlier, having refused to eat them herself. I had to admit that it aggravated me. She never accepted my help or advice and then turned around and acted like the world was against her. It was infuriating. Don't beg for compliments just to throw them away when one was given to you, ya know?

I had so often done things to try and push her out of this depressive state, but she would have none of it. If I or anyone else suggested that she talk to someone, she would become angry and insist that nothing about her being upset was out of the ordinary. Her feelings were more than justified so that meant nothing was 'wrong' with her...that she didn't need help. But was how she acted and how she treated me really normal?

I turned my attention to the small TV set sitting on a shelf next to my dresser. It was the set usually in the kitchen for Mom to keep up with the news and her stories as she was working, but it doubled as a comfort item. When anyone in the house was feeling ill, we would put the set into their rooms so they could keep themselves entertained while resting. I guess Mom figured I needed it today... Upon retreating to my room, I had turned the machine on, but I hardly noticed what was playing. Even looking at it now, my thoughts were elsewhere.

On a typical free day, I would be lounged about reading or outside cycling the neighborhood. That is if my friends weren't dragging me to hang out with them swimming, riding, or even just hanging around chatting perhaps over an shake at the ice cream parlor. But today...today was different in so many ways.

My mind stayed busy with the thoughts of Phil and of Amy. I wondered if Phil would ever get through such a sudden and tragic loss. My dad had only left my mom and me. He hadn't died or been taken from us and my mom still couldn't seem to cope so how would Phil deal with all of this? I flipped the television off, placed the remote on my bedside table, and turned over on my back.

Then my thoughts went to Freddy.

I was still having difficulty settling it in my being that he was real. I knew he had to be and at the same time I knew a just had to be insane But it wasn't completely in my head. It had been over a month ago that I had first heard about people at school dreaming about this guy. Last night, I had even dreamt about him being after me and had even been injured without any rational explanation as to there being another culprit... So, I hadn't made up the story myself and it didn't seem that even through the power of suggestion that so many would suddenly have such violent and similar nightmares. That meant that there was something going on causing us all to dream about the same thing AND get physically hurt...

And there was something killing people...young people. It naturally followed that the two were connected. Maybe there was a night stalker out there with, I don't know, a chemical? that he was getting to people...in their food? in the air? ...and it influenced our dreams. They could be following us around and attacking us while we were sleeping. That had to be what was going on. It made the most sense. But why was this killer focusing on teenagers and kids? Why all the terror and why would they give us a name? Freddy. Even if it weren't their real name, it had to mean something... There had to be a bigger picture, right? A reason for all this?

I closed my eyes, recalling every detail from my dream that I could. Definitely some sort of stalker... He knew things about me. Personal things. Was this dream demon being controlled by someone I knew? I was exceedingly curious and confused...but these things weren't my main concern. The part I couldn't get out of my head was his face...those eyes...the way he pulled me tightly against him and then mutilated my body, taking my breath away in more ways than one... It had all felt so real...even recalling it now was like experiencing each sensation all over again.

I should go back to sleep...see what happened. It was daytime...if I got hurt in the dream, it'd be less likely for someone to sneak in and injure me in real life. That would help me decipher if this was something paranormal or just some weird creep with mad scientist skills. I slit my eyes, cutting my ears to that beyond my room. I couldn't hear anything. Mom was likely still downstairs. I carefully crept to my door, peeking outside before stepping out and heading to the bathroom.

I silently closed it behind me so that the latch didn't alert anyone. Turning to the cabinet, I opened it and let my gaze roam over the contents. There wasn't a lot of medications inside other than over the counter pain killers, cough syrup, and diphenhydramine, but there were sleeping pills. Sometimes Mom would go days without sleeping if it weren't for that prescription. Spinning each bottle around to face me, it took no time for me to find the aide. Retrieving the bottle, I realized that there were only a few pills left.

I hesitated to dump any from the bottle. I didn't want Mom knowing that I was taking them. Whether I denied it or not, if she noticed, she would berate me and probably ground me too. Might take me to the doctor and bitch that I was an addict or some shit. I briefly contemplated  if I wanted to risk the hassle and the desire to see Freddy...to solve the mystery outweighed the possibility of consequence.

I poured two pills into my hand, sealing the bottle and shaking it lightly. It still made the same rattling noise. Unless she's been counting, perhaps the missing tablets would go unnoticed. I popped the medicine into my mouth, turning on the faucet below me and cupping my hands beneath the stream. I sipped enough of the puddle to swallow them and then turned the water off again.

Wiping my hands on my skirt, I opened the bathroom door and returned to my room and studied it for any way that a predator could get to me. The only entrances were my one window and the door. So unless they were already inside... I kneeled beside the bed and looked beneath it. Nothing. The closet was empty as well and there were no other hiding places. I went to the window. The screen was popped into place and intact. The glass was shut and locked. I glanced around outside. Nobody around and the clearing beneath my room was large and we'll lit with no way to get up to it from the outside except for leaning a ladder against the house.

I closed the curtains and looked around the room again. My eyes found the porcelain doll collection my family had put together for me over the years. Taking firm hold of my nightstand, I pulled it from its spot until it was directly under the window frame. I then went and gathered an armful of dolls and placed them delicately on the table. I even had some precariously stationed on the edge of the sill. Then I turned and looked at the bedroom door which was pulled to. My mom worked from home and she was hyper-aware. Nobody would get inside from elsewhere without her noticing a new person was roaming the house.

The medicine seemed to have begun taking effect a I laid down in bed with one last glance around. Satisfied of precautions, I found a comfortable position, closed my eyes, and waited for my body to fall into slumber...

"Hah aahahahahaha!" the echoing evil laughter pulled me from darkness and into the dream world.

I spun on my heels to be greeted by the sight of a long, but empty hallway that shone with a faint blue light coming from the opposite end. Glancing back and seeing nothing behind me except a stone wall, I trudged forward. Besides the sound of my feet, I could only hear dripping water. As I journeyed further, I also felt an occasional drop and the humidity of the leaks from the ceiling and walls.

After a while, the crunching of my steps began to put my nerves more on edge as it made obvious my position. I mean, I wanted to run into Freddy. I guess it was just instinct to want to hide in hostile territory. That and even though it's what I was wishing for, I was still anxious about the confrontation and anticipation grew with every stride. That laugh had been his. He was waiting for me. I wasn't afraid of him...not exactly. I was more fearful that I would not be able to handle whatever he planned to do to me. I enjoyed pain..but what if too much of it... Or a certain type... Maybe there was some form I was incapable of deriving pleasure from... Then again, I didn't know what was going to happen. He let me go once. He could have killed me and he didn't.

Maybe we can help each other.

His raspy voice was in my head again. Help each other? What could I do?  What did he want to accomplish that he'd need the help of a high school girl? Whether the person that controlled these dreams had a physical body or not... It seemed he was powerful. He basically be within people's dreams, frighten them to the core, and kill them... I could barely even fight. How could I possibly help him?

I had finally reached the end of the hallway. The light had grown extremely bright. So much so that it was blinding. But my mind knew that I had to push forward in order to see Freddy. I kept walking into the light until my eyes became used to it. And what I saw when the intensity lessened...was less disturbing than what I felt it was supposed to be...and to how it would have affected a normal person.

Inside the light was my home...the one where I lived now melded together with the one I grew up in. It was completely in shambles. Dirty, broken, dismal... I walked up to it and it took all my strength to lift the broken door out of the way and creep under it. Inside, I stepped around tattered carpets, shattered windows and rotting wood, only to see more and more destruction not just of the building, but of items- toys from my childhood, clothes from the present, and the numerous gifts I had been given over the years... All things irreparable and irreplaceable...including my grandmother's alarm clock... I stopped only momentarily to stare down at it. Initially I was upset at the thought. But it wasn't real. Didn't matter if it was either because it wasn't like I could take it into the afterlife.

"Heheheheh..." another, deeper laugh came from the demon...from upstairs.

I left the clock and went to the stairs, eyeing it's security. It was damaged, but looked passable Convenient. I started making cautious steps upward, dodging missing planks and deep holes. Once on the second floor, I heard a noise. It sounded like a small crash in my mother's room. I strolled toward it and saw that it was wrecked as well. While I looked more intently at the space...eyes scanning, there was another sudden and loud noise as a large object dropped from the ceiling.

I jumped back and retrained my eyes to study the object. It hadn't been an object at all. The motionlessness in the dark had just made me assume so. No, it was a corpse...that of my mother Her body was hanging limp by a rope that attached her broken neck to the light fixture above.

Putting my hand to my mouth to cover a gasp... I instantly dropped it. I hadn't gasped. I wasn't screaming...nor crying. , Nothing in me was mourning her loss. Not even in theory. My mind tried desperately to change that-tell me the way I should be reacting, but I couldn't force myself to fake things I didn't feel...not when there was no one to punish me for thinking differently, being myself... The thought of her death...relieved me. It was freeing to imagine a life without her overbearing criticism and all-encompassing control of my life.

"Hah ha ha," the coarse laughter sounded loudly again. This time from behind me.

I followed the sound back out of the room, my eyes staying behind on my mother's dead weight swaying in the air as I left Freddy's chuckling had come from my bedroom.

I quickened my pace to reach my destination. Now even more eager than ever to meet my saviour. I was taken aback at what I saw there... Nothing in the room had been harmed and it was in pristine condition. Instead, however of my porcelain dolls and other pretty things that it was normally decorated with...there were dragon figurines, ornate skulls, posters of rock bands and horror films... Things I loved. Items I had seen in stores that I had admired and some that I had bought only to bring home for my mother to throw away. These things were inappropriate...evil...she said...

It was the most emotion I had felt since entering this dream and it was bittersweet. It was joyous to see all these things I loved replacing those that had been forced upon me by others. And it was disparaging to know it wasn't real. I was still being forced to be someone I wasn't.

"Francine..." a soft yet raspy voice called.

Slowly, I turned. In the doorway to my room, Freddy was leaning against its frame. He was in his usual tattered attire and was smiling at me in quiet study. I could feel his eyes all over my being.

With a deep breath and a short exhale, I cocked my head to the side and crossed my arms. Putting my own gaze upon the creature, I stepped still nervous steps closer to him and found a new position mere inches away from this...man.

"Freddy," I spoke.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015
Chapter rewritten 10/28/2017