My dad's faced hardened as he was approaching this part of the story, I could tell he didn't want to tell me, and I didn't press on. The pain he experienced after my Aunt died is something I would never wish on my worst enemy. Aunt Lucy and my father were very close and after what happened, he blamed himself for not protecting her better. I once over heard him talking to my mom about it the night of my Aunts funeral, I never seen him cry before that, his eyes blood shot, he was shaken with grief. The man I looked up too, the man I believed was as strong and invincible as Super-Man, was laying in my mothers' arms. I didn't recognize him anymore.
My heart ached as I remembered that night. I could tell he was in deep thought and I let him be, I stared at the paper before me and waited.
Then after a minute I heard a sigh and he began...
The night was fairly cool, the house seemed empty and dead. Your grandparents were fast asleep down the hall and Lucy's bedroom was located across from mine. I was having a hard time sleeping and I guessed Lucy was too since I could hear her playing in her room. I rolled onto my my side and peered out the window, the only thing I could see was the street light on the far corner of my block, I laid there listening to the scuffing noises Lucy was making, and eventually fell asleep.
I noticed a tear running down his cheek, but I didn't say anything. I got up and went over to comfort him. I insisted we stop but he wanted to go on.
The next morning as I was making my bed I heard your grandmother scream, I came running out of the bedroom to see her frantically looking about the room. My heart sank when I realized Lucy was gone.
The police came over straight away, they took down Lucy's description, asked a few questions and left my mother and I alone to fear the worse. I honestly didn't think about what I heard that night, maybe if I told the police then, maybe that would've changed everything. I stayed in my room that day, your grandmother was lost in her own world, and I knew she didn't want me around to worry about. It was about mid-afternoon and I was sitting at my desk reading The Hobbit, when I heard his musical truck driving up the street. I peered out the window to see a childless street, and his white glistening truck slowly making his way through the neighborhood. I stood there watching as he approached my house, my blood ran cold when he stopped just in front of the house, I watched him and got sick feeling in my stomach. I couldn't see him but I knew he was watching me, I felt it.
That night after listening to your grandmother cry for hours, I was in my bed when a thought struck me. I don't know what possessed me to do what I did but I got up and got dressed. I packed my school bag with a flash light, and sneaked downstairs to the kitchen for more supplies and a butcher knife. I wrote a note to your grandmother explaining what I was doing and not to worry, I stuck that on the refrigerator, and got out the back door.
The neighborhood was dark and eery, the houses were tall and dead looking, the whole street and every house on it looked abandoned, including mine. I couldn't shake the feeling of fear, almost as if I had a dark cold blanket wrapped around me. I had no idea where I was going or what I was even doing at that point, but I went ahead and grabbed my bike. I road off towards Mr. Jones house.
As I was riding down the road, staying as far away from the street lights as possible just in case anyone saw me out. As I was rounding the corner on Micheal's street, I heard the last thing I wanted to hear. Mr. Jones' ice cream truck. I could hear his song slowly play as he was making his way up the road, it sounded so abnormal, so evil. I hid behind a bush in front of a house and watched as he slowly drove by, his truck lights were off and it made it look like something out of a horror movie, I never took my eyes off him. Then his truck came to a abrupt halt, the music died and I could see him sitting there, just sitting there, waiting, For what? I don't know. To this day I assume he knew I was watching him, I really think he enjoyed messing with me.
After what felt like hours, my knee's were starting to hurt from sitting on them, I yawned and knew it was getting late. I pulled out my flashlight and tried to conceal the bright light as I took a look at my wrist watch, 1:46AM. When I looked up the trucks door was open, I panicked and began to look around, fiddling for my knife in my school bag, I felt something hit my head hard.
Everything went black...
Submitted July 06, 2015 at 07:37AM by VampireTeaBag1912 http://ift.tt/1Tf1roY nosleep
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