Date: Sat, 06 Aug 2005 22:49:29 -0500
From: Eric Smith <gulf32507@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dylan's Story

Dylan Childress clamored out from under his top sheet and planted both feet
firmly on the floor. It wasn't long before his surroundings swam into focus,
tainted slightly by the fog of a restless sleep. He remembered the dream and
how it had spent most of the night wrestling with the sandman in hopes of
chipping away at the wall he had erected.

There had been a creature of a minute stature, yet horrific in its ability
to haunt him. It had flitted around him as he ran through the tall grass. He
could smell the freshness in the air and feel the tickling touch of the
blades of grass on his bare feet, but the creature that pursued him refused
to allow him the pleasure of enjoying the moment. It was the size of a small
bird, but looked nothing like the feathered friends he remembered from
another lifetime. He had never gotten a good look at the creature, but knew
it to be malevolent in nature.

He pushed the image from his mind but it wasn't long before the tendrils of
sleep lifted their veil altogether and Dylan was forced to focus more
accurately. The images of the nightmare were replaced by the sober reality
of daily life.

He was in fact living in an abandoned mall and the creature that had haunted
his dreams was not a dream at all. It had merely buzzed him in his sleep and
now that he had awakened, had opted to retire and await new opportunities to
haunt him.

Riding the onset of reality, Dylan sat on his makeshift bed in the deepest
and darkest part of the deserted complex. A multitude of thoughts cascaded
through his mind. "What did I do wrong? Why does nobody love me? Why am I
here?"

Dylan plucked his well worn pack from the floor at his feet and rummaged
through it in search of the one thing that would take him back to a happier
time.

There! He had it!

It was a worn picture. It had not been pulled from a family photo album, nor
had it been taken to serve in this capacity. It was nothing more than a
picture cut from the cloth of a discarded magazine and imprinted on Dylan's
brain from the moment of discovery. Anyone looking at this picture would no
doubt cast it aside and add to the debris that already littered this
devastated landscape, but to Dylan, it was a tangible link to an alternate
reality. It was a series of four pictures. A man and a boy of Dylan's age
spending an afternoon at a park. The grass was green and the sky an azure
blue, a stark contrast to the world he had accustomed himself to. The man
and the boy were happy and were smiling in each picture save for the last.
In what had become Dylan's favorite picture, the man held the boy in his
arms as the boy slept. He favored this picture most because it represented
something that he could not fathom. His dreams of green grass and azure
skies were continuously plagued by the buzzing of the bee/dragonfly menace
crushing any hopes he may have had of seeking that place of solace and
serenity.

As he looked at it now, a wave of warmth washed over him and he felt his
confidence return. He clutched the well worn picture to his chest and closed
his eyes, placing himself in the man's arms as he had hundreds of times
since finding the picture weeks ago. A single tear rolled down his cheek at
the realization that this most recent attempt to wish this dream into
reality would be just as futile as previous attempts. He quickly refolded
the paper and slipped it back into his backpack. The single tear had been
unexpected and had taken this entire nightmare to a new level. Until now, he
had managed to keep the tears at bay despite the ache of longing that
accompanied each viewing.

Shaking the moment off, Dylan plucked a half eaten candy bar from the bag
and began to take small bites from it. A few days ago, he had found a
deserted vending machine in one of the mall's hallways and had broken the
glass, scooping his booty into his backpack. He knew that eating junk food
was bad for him, but in this world there were no well balanced meals to
sustain him. He had been left to fend for himself for whatever reason and he
was determined to survive at any cost.

When he had finished the Snicker's bar, he tossed the wrapper into a nearby
wastebasket and surveyed his sleeping quarters. He had lost track of time
and had no idea how long he had been here, but had made the most of that
time and had ventured out into the mall in search of supplies. The mall
itself was huge and most of the ground he had covered had offered him a
small pittance. He had found a fairly clean mattress at a bedding store
along with a package of fresh sheets and had placed these items in an office
in the basement of the store. He understood the dangers of building a fire
in an enclosed space, so he had scrounged up an old lantern and some
kerosene at a mostly demolished sporting goods store on the upper level.
This same run had also given him an aluminum baseball bat that was now his
constant companion. It was there that he had found the magazine with the
picture he so closely cherished.

Today was to be no different than any other day. The mall had only been
partially explored and new territory would be scouted today. Dylan was
accustomed to this day to day routine and as scary as it may be on occasion,
it was still better than being chased through an open field by the creature.
The grass, for all its height, offered no safe place to hide for Dylan
whereas the darkened rooms of the abandoned mall provided a multitude of
haven should the creature follow him here. He straightened out his polo
shirt, brushed off his jeans and headed out into the mall.


The office Dylan had chosen as his sanctuary was located in the basement. In
its heyday this part of the mall had served in an administrative capacity,
essentially the nerve center of the mall itself. Any trace of civility and
normality had long since disappeared and only bits and pieces remained of a
once thriving enterprise. Gone were the computers, phones, desks and other
tools of the retail trade. What remained was a thick layer of dust that
covered fallen ceiling tiles, empty bookshelves and broken furniture. This
was Dylan's world and had been for some time. As he worked his away through
the now familiar debris, the boy tried again to remember life before the
mall. He sensed strongly that there had been another life prior to this one,
yet remained unable to grasp it completely. From time to time, slivers of
light would illuminate his memory and offer him tidbits of laughter,
sunshine and a carefree existence. He had long ago given up on probing those
slivers though as they always seemed to be one step ahead of him and would
blend into the shadows at the slightest hint of any of his probes. His eight
year old mind had all but given up on trying to break through that barrier.
The energy required to attempt such probes left him both physically and
emotionally drained. Better to focus on the here and now and concentrate on
his immediate survival as opposed to chasing glimmers of unreachable goals.
Besides, it was quite possible that the bee/dragonfly creature would be
waiting at the end of the tunnel in hopes of doing mean things to him. Dylan
was not one who suffered from an overactive imagination but the mere thought
of being eaten by a hideous creature certainly left doubt in his mind. On
the other hand, there was a slight chance that these slivers could provide a
way out of this prison he found himself in. In each of his prior
explorations here, he had encountered doors labeled EXIT, only to find them
stubbornly immovable in each attempt to open them. In short, both the light
and the dark provided him with adequate reasons to be frightened.

He ascended the littered stairwell slowly, mindful not to trip and injure
himself. He was unprepared to treat any injury he might sustain and saw
prevention as a preemptive strike against cure.

The north end of the mall was virgin territory for Dylan. Thus far, he had
concentrated his explorations to the south side and had accumulated very
little for his troubles. In a partially collapsed shoe store, he had found
several pairs of dust covered sneakers so his feet would not feel the sharp
pains of debris that littered every square inch of the floor. The remains of
a well known fast food restaurant had promised real food, but had delivered
rotting meat and moldy bread. A bookstore may have offered more pictures
like the one he so cherished had it not been waterlogged in six inches of
water.

Turning right at the top of the stairwell, Dylan peered ahead into the murky
corridor. For a moment he stiffened, afraid to move on, yet afraid to remain
in one place. His young mind envisioned packs of wild wolves roaming the
unexplored portions of the mall searching for a tender young morsel to
stumble into their path.

"Please. I want him. I need him!" The words slammed into Dylan like a fist,
almost knocking him over onto the dust covered floor. They had not been
spoken by any creature that may have sought shelter in this place, but had
echoed through the confines of his mind. For Dylan, the origin was
irrelevant. It was the phrase itself that seemed to cause his blood to run
like ice water through his veins. For as long as he could remember, fear of
the unknown had been a constant companion for him, yet until now he had not
heard a solitary voice inside the walls of this place. He hefted the
baseball bat into a defensive position and shook off the resounding echoes
of the haunting words. Slowly, he began to advance his way towards the
unknown maze ahead of him.

"He has to know that I want him! He needs to know that he belongs with me!"
The voice returned, the volume increasing in intensity. Dylan dropped the
bat and clasped his hands over his ears in an effort to drown out the
phantom voice. It must be that bee/dragonfly again, he thought. It must have
found a way to permeate my reality, no longer wishing to restrict it's
haunting to my dream world.

Recovering almost immediately, Dylan scooped up the bat and held it in front
of him in a defensive posture, his eyes rapidly scanning the darkened
corridor ahead of him. Suddenly, a sliver of light illuminated his memory
again, this time stabbing its way through the barrier and piercing the armor
Dylan had so proudly worn. A vision played itself out in his young mind and
he braced himself for the impact. In his mind's eye, a large angry man
approached him, fists cocked and ready for action.

"HE'S MINE!" the voice grumbled as a sneer etched its way across the ruddy
cheeks.

Dylan stumbled backwards, caught completely off guard by this newest
development. His ankle caught on a piece of broken furniture and the boy
tumbled to the ground, the aluminum bat flying out of his hand and
skittering across the floor.

The bee/dragonfly creature returned at that moment, buzzing him as he tried
to scramble to his feet. His backpack and the bat forgotten, Dylan rushed
headlong into the stairwell and took the stairs two at a time, unmindful of
the debris littering his escape route. Only one thought cascaded through his
mind as he descended. He needed to reach the safety of his room. There was
no way the creature or the voice would be able to permeate the barriers of
that room unless he was to fall asleep and dream. He rounded the landing and
began his final descent to the only haven he had come to know as the
creature buzzed him. He tripped and fell at the bottom of the stairwell,
scraping his knee in the fall. The creature swarmed around his head and the
voice returned.

"He can't go. I need him to stay here!"

The creature hovered above him, gazing at him as a predator does his next
meal.

"He needs to stay here!" the voice growing in intensity and tinged with
fear.

Ignoring his injured knee, Dylan scrambled to his feet and scurried towards
the only shelter left for him, the safety of his room. Bolting into the
room, he slammed the door shut behind him, hoping against hope that whatever
had been chasing him would find his barricade impenetrable. With his back
against the door, he tried to catch his breath and brace himself for
whatever may come next. He only hoped that he would be brave enough to stave
off any attack when it finally did come. His eyes scanned the small room
rapidly, looking for any signs that his tormentors may have penetrated his
defenses. All was as it should be.

After a few moments, the voice disappeared and the bee/dragonfly creature
ceased its buzzing. For a moment, Dylan wondered if he should take the
chance and venture back into the mall to complete his unfinished task. This
latest development had taken his fear to a new level and he found himself
unprepared for its onslaught. The tears began to well up in his eyes as he
left the door and shuffled to the mattress. The events of the last few weeks
were beginning to take their toll on him and he suddenly felt weak and
incapable of any form of action. He sat on the mattress, brought his knees
up to his chest and hugged them in a last defensive position. A multitude of
thoughts cascaded through his young mind. Where was he? Why was he here? Why
couldn't he remember anything beyond this mall? What was beyond the doors of
the mall?

The tears began to flow freely now, trailing down his cheeks despite his
best efforts to stave them off. He began to sob, his small chest wracked
with involuntary spasms. Slowly he felt his defenses crumbling one by one.
Whatever savvy he had accrued here was slowly slipping away and the loss was
overwhelming. Lowering his head to his knees, he began to wail.

"He needs me doctor and more importantly, I need him." The voice was back,
but the timbre had changed. It no longer seemed malevolent in nature. It had
almost adopted a pleading sound to it. Dylan raised his head slowly at the
sound of it, the tears streaming down his cheeks unabashedly.

"Dylan, please come back. I need you here with me."

A sliver of light appeared at the door followed by another and another.
Dylan gazed at them through misty eyes. The creature had won the battle for
him. He had resisted for as long as possible, but he was merely a boy and
therefore incapable of prolonged battles. The creature itself was nowhere in
sight, but Dylan knew that the slivers of light were nothing more than a
manifestation. The light would soon encompass the room and he would be
devoured by it. His will to fight was slowly ebbing away and he felt his
energy being tapped by unseen forces.

The three slivers of light were joined by several more and they began to
merge as one. As they merged, the room began to illuminate and the voice
returned.

"That's right Dylan. Swim towards the light. You can do it, I know you can.
I'm here waiting for you my dear."

Dylan began to feel the exhaustion overtake his small body. He knew he
needed to fight the light, but lacked the strength to do so. He knew that
upon entering the light he would be consumed by the creature that had
haunted him for the last few weeks. But he had reached the end of his rope.
His rations were low and any foray into the mall would now be much more
dangerous than any prior expedition.

The light seemed to pulse as if it were a predator cornering its prey. It
continued to grow as other slivers of light dropped from the ceiling tiles
and added their brilliance to the sphere. Soon the small room was bathed in
brightness and the voice returned, begging Dylan to walk towards the light.

Eight year old Dylan Childress collapsed backwards onto the bed and allowed
himself to be swallowed by the brilliance.



In another world, Ben Sharkey sat stoically at the bedside of a comatose
child. The doctors had not been too optimistic about the outcome. The boy
was clearly in a coma and was not expected to awaken at all.

It had been his fault. He had driven three hundred miles to adopt this boy
after years of filling out mountains of paperwork and wading through miles
of red tape. Finally last week, he had gotten the call. He had been approved
to adopt Dylan Childress. The boy had been through some traumatic ordeals in
his young life and was considered by many doctors to have sought refuge in
some inner sanctum that none of them could penetrate. It seemed to Ben that
they almost welcomed the chance to rid themselves of this burden.

Pulling into the driveway of the orphanage, a ball had scooted across the
driveway followed by a child. Bend braked but not in time and the child had
been thrown. The child had been Dylan.

Now as he sat here in a pall of sadness, he gently caressed the boy's hand
and cooed to him. "I need you here with me Dylan. We're gonna be a family
honey, but I need you to get well so I can take you home with me and show
you your new room and all your toys."

Dylan remained unresponsive.

"Swim to the light Dylan. I'm here waiting for you my dear and I know you
can do it." Ben leaned into the boy and kissed him on the forehead, a single
tear falling and landing on the boy's cheek.

Suddenly, the boy moaned and his eyelids fluttered momentarily. Ben cupped
the boy's angelic face in his hands. "Walk towards the light honey, I'm here
waiting."

For a moment, Dylan remained as passive as he had for the last few weeks
since the accident. Then slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. Ben gave the
boy's hand an extra squeeze before lifting it and kissing it gently.

"Welcome back, honey."

Some say it was nothing short of a miracle, while others insist that science
played a large part. Still others claim that it was mere happenstance. For
Ben Sharkey and Dylan Childress, it was a reunion.

Two weeks later, upon a speedy recovery, Dylan Childress and Ben Sharkey
walked through the park hand in hand followed by a photographer who captured
the exact moment that Dylan leaped into Ben's arms and gave him the biggest
hug of all.