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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Supernatural · #1160522
Dennis could see into the future.

“It was a very sad day, and every heart in the house felt the deepest grief; for the youngest child, a boy of four years old, the joy and hope of his parents, was dead.”
“The Child in the Grave” – Hans Christian Anderson

My mama is in her bedroom crying. When those men came and took my brother away this morning; my daddy left with them so I tried making my own breakfast and spilled the milk. Mama can’t stop crying, not because I was bad, it’s because my little brother went to Heaven.


When I opened my eyes this morning I heard Mama and Daddy talking loud. They were crying and talking about making arrangements. I was afraid to leave my bed so I covered my head with blankets and played make believe just like Dennis did, before he died last night.

I heard them talking about my brother’s brain tumor. The doctors had given up; there was nothing that could be done. They said his death was probably for the best, because he would have gone blind and been a vegetable.

“The boy never was normal, Sally.” I heard my daddy say.

Between sobs, Mama answered, “I know but he was our little boy, and I loved him.”

“Sometimes, the things he said and did frightened us, Sally, we never knew what to expect next. His “ways” came from your side of the family. Your father always predicting the terrible future was evil.”

“But he could, Orville; my father saw the future and you know our little boy was just like Dad.”

“I know it’s true, I just didn’t want to believe it. What was I supposed to think last night; when he said, he was going for a ride in a big car all by himself today?”


Mama came out of the bedroom wearing a black dress, wiping the tears from her face and told me to put on my Sunday dress.

“Why, Mama?”

“We are going to walk the three blocks to the Hodge funeral home and meet your daddy there.”

“Is Dennis there?”

“Yes, sweetheart, now go along and change into your dress, put your pretty slippers on, too.”

Mama stopped crying and held my hand as we slowly walked up the hill.

“I shouldn’t have worn my pretty slippers.”

“Why not, Shelly?” You look so pretty in that pink dress and your slippers.”

“It’s going to rain, that’s why.”

“Look at the sky, sweetie, there are no clouds and the sun is shining. It’s not going to rain.”

“Yes it is, Mama.”

A block from the funeral home, ominous clouds appeared, followed by heavy rain. The mother released her child’s wet hand, looked away, and began trembling and sobbing. The fears, the unknown, were not going to be buried with her son.

Prompt: Use the first line of any nursery story and write a story from there. (472 words)

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