Christopher’s mother looked up as her son suddenly stirred on the hospital bed. His eyes fluttered underneath closed lids. She took his hand and hoped with all of her heart and soul that he would open them. His perfect eyes. His father’s eyes. But the hope faded with the sounds of the machines keeping his body alive with a cruel beep beep beep. She turned to the window and saw the sun beginning to set. A chill ran through her. Soon the terrifying night would come. And her son would be lost inside it.
Christopher’s mother turned to Ambrose. His eyes covered in bandages. She looked down at the diary in her hands. Everything David had gone through Christopher had gone through. The itching, the headaches, the fevers. Both boys knew all of the answers to all of the tests. Both were hunted by the hissing lady. So, she knew that whatever David had done, Christopher was about to do. A sinking feeling came over her as she turned the page.
It was David’s last entry.
The temperature in the room dropped. Her breath felt frosty in the air. She could almost feel her heart stop. The handwriting was now nearly illegible.
Ambrose, I am going in to kill the hissing lady. If you read this diary, it means I didn’t make it. But I want you to know how it was on my last day. When I got out of bed this morning, I felt peaceful. I know that’s strange, but it’s true. I felt like my whole life was leading up to this moment. Like I had been alive for 8 years for this one purpose. I know what I have to do. I have to follow her into my tree house. I don’t know what’s waiting for me on the other side. The place that’s so scary that we don’t remember our nightmares. But if I don’t go there, I think everyone is going to die. I don’t know if I am going to be alive tomorrow. I wonder what that will feel like. Ambrose, after you read this, please don’t be hard on yourself too much. I understand you were just a 17-year-old kid. So, don’t blame yourself for not listening because I wouldn’t have believed me, either. That’s the thing about being God here. It makes me know things. I know if you’re reading this, it means you didn’t die. I know it means I kept her inside the imaginary world somehow and away from you. And that’s enough for me. I know you’re a good person. I know you will miss me every day. But I will be there, Ambrose. I will be watching you from the imaginary side. I will make sure no nightmares get anywhere near you. So, even if you feel sad, you will always have a break when you sleep. And every time you smell a baseball glove, that will be me, Ambrose. I will be looking out for you every day until you go to Heaven. I will always keep you safe. I love you big brother.
Christopher’s mother strained to make out the last sentence.
you Are my beSt friEnd.
DAVID
Christopher’s mother closed the diary. The two sat in silence for a moment. She grabbed Ambrose’s hand for support and turned to the window. The bottom of the sun was touching the horizon. The sun would set within minutes with her boy stuck on the wrong side of the night. If history was hell-bent on repeating itself, she knew the hissing lady was leading him down a blind alley. She looked at her son lying on the bed, tubes sticking out of his mouth. Christopher’s mother wanted to scream. Scream through the machines keeping him alive.
“Don’t follow her, Christopher,” she prayed. “Don’t go into David’s tree house.”