Dreams Or How I Live My Life in Daydreams

The Truth of that Night

A loud bang jolted Maddox awake. He couldn't see a thing, his eyes blindfolded. He grunted, his voice muffled. The polyester cloth shoved in his mouth, soaked with saliva. His hands and feet zip tied.

His head throbbed. His stomach gurgled. He feared he would up chunk the burrito he ate hours ago pea soup style like the scene in The Exorcist—except with his mouth gagged, he would choke on it.

His muscles ached. How long had he lain like this?

The floorboards creaked with heavy footsteps. He counted two sets. Two people?

His hands numb, the zip ties cutting off his circulation, Maddox righted himself.

A door slamming shut with a clink, he heard dragging of feet sliding across the floor. The sound grew closer. Maddox stilled himself. A floral scent infused the air. No. I can't be. His breath quickened. Sweat beads dotted his forehead.

The dragging stopped. Maddox heard a thump as the assailants unceremoniously dropped the limp body beside him.

From their light breathing, he knew the person was alive but unconscious. The floral perfume assaulted his nostrils. His mouth went dry, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. There was no mistaking it. He recognized the scent. 

Footsteps shuffling, one of the assailants crouched down and removed the blindfold, pulling a chunk of Maddox's hair out.

Squinting as his vision cleared, Maddox stared into a pair of midnight black eyes. Bart Oakley.

Maddox swallowed.

Catching sight of Autumn lying prone on the floor, he froze. The lump in his throat grew. He had failed to protect her.

Bart rose to his feet. A smirk on his face, he retrieved a greasy paper bag from off the grimy floor.

"I brought your favorite," he said grinning.  Maddox found himself staring at the boy's discolored front teeth.

Striding across the floor, the bully opened the bag and dug inside of it. A putrid stench seeped out of it, infusing the dank air. Dread and trepidation came over Maddox.

With his free hand, the bully removed the saliva-soaked cloth from Maddox's mouth. The prankster inhaled deeply, filling his lungs, then exhaled.

"You hungry?" the bully said with a gleam in his eyes.

Maddox offered no reply.

The bully scooped out dog poop with his fingers. He leaned forward, leering at the prankster. "Ready for your treat?"

He flung the poop onto the boy's face. "You love shit so much, why don't you eat it." Pretending as though he was painting, he smeared the poop all over Maddox's chin and lips. 

His mouth clamped shut, Maddox tried not to ingest any.

"Eat it, dipshit!" the bully yelled.

Blegh!

Maddox vomited in the bully's face.

Cursing, the bully jumped to his feet and removed his soiled shirt, using it to clean off his face and fingers. "That wasn't nice," he said. "How else will you remember your mutt?"

A cold chill went down Maddox's spine.  "What did you do to my dog?" he said, his voice caught.

A grin spread across the bully's face. "Hmmm, I don't know. Maybe dissected it while it was still alive, listening to its cries and whimpers until it stopped."

Maddox glared at the bully, tears stinging his eyes. "You bastard."

The bully shrugged. "Payback's a bitch," he said.