"Papa? I had another nightmare last night."
"Would you like to talk about it Harold?". Papa asked, sitting his newspaper to the side.
I nodded, crawling into my father's lap, my dream journal in hand.
"Now, what is this, nightmare, you speak of, child? If it was about your mother I assure you-"
"It wasn't." I answered bluntly. I didn't want to speak of mama. It would only increase my fear.
"Papa, I've been having these, visions, lately. In my dreams." I started.
Papa laughed, his big belly bouncing with him. "Child, you are only 8. What "visions" could you possibly be having?"
I simply handed him my dream journal. He took it, flipping through the pages as if he were taking it with a grain of salt. Then, he slammed the book shut.
"Did you read it?" I asked, voice small.
"No, I didn't. Because it was only a dream, Harold. A collage of figments of your imagination. The nightmares mean nothing. There was even an article on it in the paper. If you want-"
"But papa!"
"Preposterous! Just preposterous!" He muttered, shaking his head, continuing to read the paper.
With tears streaming down my face, I grabbed my journal and ran to my room, slamming the door shut. No one understands me. No one believes me. No one gets it.
I cried and cried, until finally I fell asleep.
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I was transported to a small room. There was a hallway around the corner, leading to what I thought was some sort of stage. I didn't dare to go through it, though. It seemed dark and eerie, as if sadness and anger were constantly seeping through the walls.
Looking around, all I could see were endoskeletons and empty heads of cartoony looking animals. The same animals that have invaded my dreams the previous nights.
Because it was dark, I couldn't see anything whatsoever. I felt my way around the room until I came to a door. Frantically, I grasped for the handle, but it wouldn't budge. I was trapped, trapped in a room full of animal heads and creepy endoskeletons.
Then, I heard the sound of an animatronic, moving slowly towards me.
I turned around to see glowing eyes, shining light onto the animal's face. It was the face of a fox. In my earlier visions, I decided that I favored the fox more than the other animatronics. The fox could talk and sang wonderful. My personal favorite.
"You," The animatronic said in a sad,robotic tone.
"What, what did I do?" I asked, slowly backing away.
Then, I bumped into something. Someone.
I turned and saw an older man. He looked to be around 40, with a full mustache and beard. He wore thick glasses, much like the ones I was wearing now. He had curly red hair and what looked to be brown eyes. I gasped, nearly fainting.
This man was me. Harold Johnson.
But, this Harold did not look friendly. He had glossy eyes and the smile only a maniac would wear. His skin looked pale in the bright lights of the fox's eyes. This was me, but it wasn't ME.
"Oh, Foxy. You've always been my favorite." Other me cooed, voice deep and crazed.
"What did you do. Why are you here? Where are the children?" Foxy asked, voice seeming frantic.
"Well, I thought our crew was running short, and you've been working so hard, so I got you a present. You know you've always been my favorite." Other me said, stepping closer to Foxy.
"No, you couldn't have-" Foxy ran down the hallway, his metal endoskeleton making quite a racket.
Then, all I heard was silence. Pure silence, until a soft, robotic weep sounded.
I ran down the eerie hallway to find that I was correct. It did lead to a stage. I opened the purple curtains to see what at first I believed to be children sitting on a crimson carpet.
But the carpet wasn't crimson. It was originally black, with specks of various colors, but was stained with blood from the half a dozen lifeless bodies of children laying limp on the ground.
I ran to Foxy, who was knelt down beside one of the bodies. Suddenly, he turned his head, revealing my father's face instead.
"Harold, YOU DID THIS!" He bellowed, raising his massive arm, a knife in hand.
Before he would hit me, rolled over onto my side, falling into a pit of never-ending darkness.
That is when I woke up.