Little Timmy's Warning
by Kenneth Burch
Dad had come home from work as usual, finding the house and home he loved the same. There was a bird house
that needed repairing and a few breaks in the fence outside. His wife, a loving woman, had given him a little boy, a little boy he named Timmy.
Timmy was bright and a quick learner. Timmy had always done as he was told and was always polite to his mommy and daddy. He was the kind of kid, who
shared his bike and baseball glove with any one of his many friends. With big brown eyes and a smile to match, he always
brought joy to anyone that knew him.
One evening Timmyís dad had asked Timmy to lock Max, the family dog, up before going to bed. It was a Friday night and Timmyís dad knew Timmy
would be out playing late. Timmy promised and his dad gave him a hug, promising him to be home later. That evening, Timmy was having so much fun
watching his friends play four-square and marbles, that little Timmy had tuckered himself out. He said farewell to his friends and went in the house.
Once inside, Timmy took off his clothes and started his bath. He placed his dirty clothes in the washer and after a bowl of ice cream and some television, little
Timmy fell fast asleep.
Later that evening, while the moon glowed dad came home. He parked his car in the garage and got out, stretching
from a long day at work. He started to head inside, when he noticed Max, the family dog running around the back yard. He walked over to Max, and
took him by the collar, locking him in the dog house out back. He closed the gate and headed inside.
The steps leading up to Timmyís room were dark. There was a Donald Duck night light and a Darth Vader mask, near the door. Dad had opened
the door slowly, not wanting to wake Timmyís mom who was sleeping down the hall. Dad slowly closed the door and walked over to his only son.
As Timmy slept, his mind began to wonder off. Beneath his eye lids, there was movement. He reached up, scratching at his nose and opened his sleep drenched eyes.
He looked up to see a large dark shadow, sitting right next to him.
"Hello Timmy, you didn't do as I asked. I asked of you a very simple task, and you fucked it up. All that was needed, was a little understanding
between father and son, a little reminder that in this world, there are rules to live by. I sometimes wonder about you Timmy, I wonder
why you don't listen sometimes. I guess I could blame myself, but why should I, you are here for that. Some children never learn Timmy, some never
let it sink in and this is always a mistake. You have done it this time Timmy, this time you have gone too far. I'll tell you what I'm going to
do boy. I will grant you one last warning. The very next time, I ask you to do something so simple, and you either forget or decided against it, I
will come to you like this once more. I will come in the middle of the night, hidden within the dark shadows. I will walk quietly over to your bed and
while you lay there sleeping, I'll remove the kitchen knife that I had taken, and without a second thought, slice your fucking
throat! Do you understand me Timmy? Because I would then take your blood soaked body out back, and after chopping it to pieces, I would
slowly feed it to that beast you forgot to lock up. Do you understand me Timmy, do you understand me Tim?"
Timmy laid there stiff with freight, his mind and eyes locked on the shadow before him. He nodded in agreement and forced back
the tears now swelling in his eyes. The shadow removed the large hand held against his mouth, and slowly faded away. Timmy would awake the
next morning knowing that the world he lived in was different now. Things had changed for him and he was ready to accept the task. He poured
himself some cereal and milk. He sat thinking about his dad and the things he said. He finished eating and washed his bowl and hands. He walked
out back and unlocked the gate leading to Max. Max was wagging his tail, but Timmy paid little attention to it.
There was a shed located to the left of the white fence near Maxís doghouse and Timmy walked in.
The steps leading to his parentís room was filled with morning glow. Along the walls were pictures of the family, during happier times.
The door of his parentís room was opened slowly, as not to wake mom. A small figure walked over to the husbandís side of the bed. The
father lay dreaming, and had just felt the touch of morning light, when the pain came rushing in. The axe was neatly planted in his chest, the fleshy
thud and cracking sound of blood and bone. Mother screamed and jumped up, her body covered in her husbandís blood. Timmy looked away and
after dropping the axe on the floor, fell to his knees and cried, begging his mother and God, to forgive him. Outside a crack of thunder
appeared above a clear sunny sky.