It was dark, the cold harsh sea air and spray whipped across his face. He was standing alone on a cliff over looking the roaring, treacherous sea. He heard a movement behind him; he felt a hand on his back and the next thing he knew he was falling, falling down into lashing sea.
He sat up sweaty faced. He fumbled for the lights. He looked around, he was sitting up in bed in his room, and it was 5.30am. The morning sunlight was pouring though the curtains and everything was very normal.
He often had these dreams due to his absolute phobia of heights. He despised aeroplanes, tall buildings and even going over bridges in the car. The whole ‘height hatred’ had started when he was three and he had fallen painfully out of an upstairs window. No real physical harm was caused but he had loathed heights from then on.
Neville was an typical 10 year old boy, he had short red brown hair and electric blue eyes. He was small for his age and had freckles all over his pallid little face. He was not a very courageous young man; he was relatively tense and agitated and hated doing new things. He loved swimming and reading but was petrified of the dark and heights.
One day in early November Neville and his family went to a travelling fairground situated in a local park. Neville was reluctant to go, as he wanted to stay at home and play computer games. He moaned, whined and complained all the way there about how none of his friends had to go to stupid, babyish fairgrounds and ramble around with their annoying little sisters.
When they arrived, even Neville could not conceal that he was having fun! There were loads of chilling rides, hilarious shows and frustrating stalls. The park was packed with people so queues were extremely long. They were winding around like giant snakes meandering across the park. Inpatient Neville could not bothered to wait so he sneaked to the front of a line waiting for
‘Mine cart racer rollercoaster’
He snuck though the queue pretending to be looking for a friend. Crushed by the rides line up, he started to get flushed. The lasers were burning against his eyes and the flashing lights were blazing on to his sweaty back like the staring eyes of a tiger. He was having trouble breathing and needed to sit down. To his glee, he saw a minute room of the side of the ride. He crept in and closed the door slowly behind him. The room was cool and dark, Neville wiped his forehead. Suddenly he realizes it was pitch black. He squinted around looking for the light switch. He could almost taste the dusts fogging up the room. He stumbled forward searching for the switch. He tripped over something on the floor on the floor and fell painfully to the cold concrete floor.
He opens his eyes wearily and glanced around the room. An excruciating pain shot through his head like a bullet almost knocking him back to the floor. He stood up again wobbly and stumbled forward. He grasped the door handle with both hands and yanked it open. The fair was unnaturally, quiet there were no lights, no people and no noise. He started to panic, he ran confused into the dew drenched square. There was no one to be seen. A flapping and loud noise made him jumpy he swivelled around staring about for the culprit. He looked up to see a looming black crow perched atop a large circus tent.
He was petrified! He ran around yelling and looking for some sight or sign of human life. The silence was pressing against his ears, he was going to snap. He fell to his knees whispering to him self. “Make it stop, make it stop”
He pinched him-self hard, but nothing happened.
Suddenly an unearthly scream shattered the silence, he whirled around to see indistinct figures glide behind the now old, rusted Ferris wheel. Building up his courage, he peered round the edges of the battered ticket box. No one was there. A shimmer of light blazed across the sky, Neville looked up to see it was the dead of night; the pitch-black clear sky seemed uncannily empty. There was no moon in the sky. He saw a shadow illuminated beside him. He jerked out of his reverie and glanced around. The shadow had gone but it had reminded Neville he was still alone and stuck in this inhabited hell. An uneasy, tense feeling flooded over him. He could almost taste the fear pounding though him, as if he was going to explode. To his shock and horror, he felt a hard firm hard grasp his shoulder he summoned up all his might and turned around. A large stature stood tall above him. He felt his legs give in, his vision was blurred he was swaying where he stood then he fell down, down to the floor.
He was lying dazed on the slightly damp grass outside the punch and Judy tent. A crowd of people were milling around him looking down anxiously at him. He looked up to see the large hulking figure again. However, his face had a slightly concerned smile crossing it. He held out a hand and pulled Neville to his feet.
“Nasty bump you got there lad, how are you feeling, you’ve had me worried sick. Your mum thought she had lost you and then a word went round saying a boy was running about screaming and crying”
said the man in a gruff voice.
Neville looking startled stared up at him. In an astonished voice, Neville replied.
“But the shadow and the scream, it was empty”
The man looked down at him puzzled and somewhat concerned.
“We better get you to hospital and checked out”
Neville followed the man to a small office where his mother sat crying and sobbing in to Neville’s dad’s arms.
He went to the hospital and they said it was just a bump, but he must have just been disorientated.
They instructed him to stay at home and rest for a few days, but he never could forget it. Every night before he went to sleep, he could hear that blood curdling scream and see shadow flickering past the window.