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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1841776-Mr-Smiley
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1841776
Smile for me.
Smiling, Smiling, Smiling.
         Midnight.  That’s when he arrives.  That hour is his, like a horde of locust swarming over the horizon, he presents himself to me.  Emerging from the shadows of my room.  Every object, every corner, every inch of my room is his silent playground.  When twelve o’ clock strikes, that’s when he appears, greeting me with that smile.  Mr. Smiley is his name (at least that’s what he told me when he first visited my room on that dank night).  He’d sit at the foot of my bed, with a smile that extended from ear to ear, like a half-moon pasted to his face. His bright, yellow eyes looked at me sadistically while humming to himself, swaying to the sound of the rain, and then he spoke for the first time.  His voice was like a demon whispering through the dark, petrifying my body.
         Oh my pretty little, Lily.  My name is Mr. Smiley, Smiley will do just fine.  Aw, why so sad my dear?  Do I scare you? He leaned in closer, his eyes blazed with excitement.  Smile for me.  Smile for Mr. Smiley.
         At that moment, the last thing I remember doing was screaming as if Satan himself had grabbed me and pulled me into Hell.  That ear-splitting scream drove him away as he clutched his head in agony, with that smile still painted on his face.  Then he was gone, the room in dead silence.  His presence faded like a mist.  Except for the smile.  It’s always there, stained in my mind.
         Smiling, Smiling, Smiling.
         Every night is a never-ending nightmare.  He wants me, and he won’t stop until I’m his.  Only my blanket protects me.  My shield, my guardian, the arms of God, I keep it wrapped around my entire body; even my feet never leave the sanctuary of its warmth and comfort. 
         I can never sleep, because with every blink I see him.  He’s everything in my room.  The rustle of my flower-coated curtains, the form of my chair and coat, and the hunching trees outside my window, he’s everything around me.  During thunderstorms, he likes to tap on my window.  As the rain trickled down his face, the hideous smile never deceased as he rasped on the glass with his long, jagged nails; his smile grew wider with every tap as the lightning laminated his face.
         Smiling, Tap, Smiling, Tap, Smiling.
         I pulled the blanket over my head, concealing myself from the nightmare.  Images of that photo shoot in sixth grade rushed through my mind like flashcards.  There, in front of the canvas, I sat, staring at the photographer behind the camera.  He looks up and says to me, “Now look at the camera, my dear.  That’s it.  Smile for me.” 
         That same day, I sit on the pavement, waiting for my ride home.  The man comes to me.  “What are ya doing sittin’ by yourself, gorgeous?” He touched my arm.  “Come take a walk with me.” He grinned slyly at me, his grip was tight.  “Come on now, I wanna show ya somethin’ in my car over there.  Won’t take long.  Come on now.”
         I ran…too slow…threw me in the car…hit me…touched me…and smiled…left me in a ditch…someone finds me...blood, so much…never saw him again. 
Four years go by so fast.
Smiley haunts me at night, every God forsaken night, and he’ll never leave until the sun marches over the horizon, but he’s always back, never gone for too long—a smile on his face.
         The sound of rain trampled on the roof, the tapping of the creature muted, gone.  I peak from my covers, slowly, cautiously.  What I saw in front of me made my heart jolt as if I was struck by lightning at that moment.
         Peek-a-boo, I see you.
         I closed my eyes, not wanted to see him.  His hand stretched out and stroked my hair; so soft, yet so menacingly.  A chuckle escaped from his throat as he bent down and sniffed my hair.
         Mmm, you smell good my darling.  So good, in fact, why, it makes me…smile.
         A tear rolled down my cheek, gentle sobs escaped my throat as I gripped my blanket tighter.  Why wouldn’t he go away, God why wouldn’t he just leave me alone?
         He played with my hair, a tangled layer wrapped around his crooked fingers.  He moved closer, enjoying my terror and grief.  He whispered a lullaby to me.  Words that left my body in frozen, hopeless fear.
         Hush, little Lily, don’t you cry.  I’ll be here right by your side.  And if you show your smile for me, I’ll take you and make you mine.
         His voice was seductive, hypnotizing me into sleep.  I woke up the next morning screaming with my hand to my throat.  I stopped to look around my room.  Sun shined through my window—Smiley was gone…for now.  He’ll be back tonight, with that damn smile.
         Smiling, Smiling, Smiling.
         
12:00
I lay in bed, covers draped over my body.  He’s standing in the corner of my room, his smile flashing at me from a distance.  It’s different somehow—wider.
He walks casually towards me, his slender, branch-like body gliding across the floor.  He stops beside my bed, and I see that familiar smile.  Except it’s—Oh, God.  His mouth!  It’s stitched together!  Twines of blonde hair stitched his red lips in a bond of flesh and dried blood.  The worst part is what I fear the most—it’s my hair.
He leaned in closer, his eyes bright red and wild.  His rancid breath was like a corpse.  Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead.  What are you staring at?  Notice something new?  I’m surprised you didn’t see before.  Tell me what it is.  His smile grew with each word.  Tell me with a smile.
That’s all I can take.  I couldn’t take anymore.  It has to stop, it has to end.  Whether I die or not, I have to end this.
I rose out of my sheets, screaming.  “Leave me the hell alone!  Go away!”
I clawed, kicked, punched, and screamed at him—at nothing.  I stand beside my bed, the blankets are gone.  I can’t move.  I feel vulnerable, naked.  He’s suddenly beside me.  Looking at me.  His crimson-stained, thorn-like fingernail traces my lips; a needle and twine of hair in his large, monstrous hand.
He raises the needle up to my mouth, smiling as he does it.
Now, my precious, Lily, you and I will smile together forever.  The cold steel touches my lip.  Smile for me.
Smiling, Smiling, Smiling.  We’ll always be smiling.
© Copyright 2012 Corey Walker (cwalker91 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1841776-Mr-Smiley