by: Kristy Duke
“Bo!” I am thrown awake by the sound of my own voice yelling out Bo’s name as the nightmare continues to relive itself within my mind, a vivid nightmare of Bo lying in a dark room slowly dying. His baby blue eyes scream silently in pain and fear as tears stain his cheeks and blood soaks through his blue coat he had been wearing. His thin chest only slightly moves up and down as he desperately fights to breathe despite the fact that death is claiming him slowly inch by inch.
Disbelief and horror streak through my numbing body as my captive’s words continue to roll rapidly in my head. Of the vivid description he gives of Bo’s death with each time he enters the old shed, describing Bo’s pain and fear, his coughing, and the blood.
“Glad you’ve awaken,” my captive brings my attention away from the wall ahead to the door that slowly squeaks shut, a broad and evil smile crosses his face as he throws a thick wooden chair in the room across from me, “perhaps you want to hear more about your cousin.”