Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street
Length: <1k words
Notes: Watched Freddy’s Dead last night, instead of ogling over the John Doe I began to wonder what his last few days in Springwood were like. Decided that since I’d never found a fan fic about it I’d write one.
When I was twelve I was an insomniac. No kidding. Used to sit up all night staring at the walls, begging some higher power to let me sleep. It never worked. I have no idea why it started. Maybe because of the deaths.
Sleep was killing teenagers faster than parents could make ‘em.
And after awhile, anyone who wanted a normal life left.
Not my parents though. No, not them. They’re lawyers, the most sensible people on the planet. Krueger was dead, plain and simple. They even confided in me that they had friends who watched him burn. So Freddy couldn’t kill me.
Wonderful. At least I know he has a motive for wanting me dead. Most of the recent deaths were simply because they were there.
This town is so screwed up. The cemetery is overflowing, but none of the neighbouring towns will let Springwood youths be buried in their towns. They don’t believe in Freddy, but they do believe that this town is cursed and they don’t want their town to be infected.
There was a point when there were about ten funerals a day. All cremations. No space left in the cemetery.
All adults were panicking. No, not Freddy. He’s dead. They managed to convince themselves that some kid was peddling drugs that was killing all the teens.
Then the deaths stopped.
No, nobody killed Freddy.
He ran out of victims. I’m all that’s left. It’s been a week since Christie’s death. She was strong. She was stronger than me, so I don’t understand why she’s gone and I’m still here.
I can’t go out any more. The few remaining adults have gone quite crazy. They blame me, of course they do. Christie’s parents especially, they’re still subscribing to the drug theory. And since I’m the last one standing I must be the one who was selling them.
So my parents told me to stay in the house.
What happened to them… It wasn’t my fault.
I may have hated them right then, sure, who wouldn’t? Every teen in the entire town was dead and still they wouldn’t leave.
But I didn’t want him to break his kids-only rule and kill them.
I haven’t told anyone they’re dead. I don’t want to go to jail. I don’t want anything any more. I don’t even want my life.
So, in closing, thanks for everything God. Thanks for letting me be born to parents who killed a man who became a demon. Thanks for letting me pay for their form of justice. Thanks for letting everyone I ever cared about die by his hands.
I put down the tape recorder. Pretty fucking melodramatic. Leaving my last few hours on tape. Like anyone’s going to find it. Like anyone’s even going to look. Nobody likes kids around here. When I die it will mean that Krueger has finished his work and the deaths will stop.
And I will die. I know it, because I’ve just taken a couple of sleeping pills.
This time I’m not hiding from Freddy, I’m looking for him.
I just want it to be over.