Three [4]

There are no words to describe what was happening. I could see my young self. Really young self. My father was...alive. I watched as the five-year-old Audrey danced around while he worked. I knew what day this was. It was Father's Day, 2001: the day he died. As a special treat, he had taken me tow work with him and we were the last ones there.1

With a slow exhale, Drake Chrie looked up from his calculations and smiled lovingly at his daughter. He pushed up his glasses and swept his hair out of his work-hardened face. Tears crept to my eyes as he did so.2

"You ready to go home, Stitches?" he asked, using my childhood nickname. I tenderly caressed the scar next to my eye.3

"Yeah," she replied. "Daddy? What's that thing you're working on do?"4

"Hm...you see, Babe..." he paused, trying to put his words in terms she might understand, "you know that big couch in our living room?"5

"Uh hu, Snore!"6

"Right, well, if you point that big machine at it, Snore could walk, breathe, and even speak. Kind of like Frosty the Snowman." Stitches giggled at this analogy.7

"Oh, I gets it now," she said, and resumed her twirling. Drake stood, walked over by the large 'x' on the floor, and made some adjustments to the device. A light shined on him so that his shadow was directly over the spot where his invention would work its magic. Stitches began to hum a soft melody, which I recognized immediately.8

"I'm looking for comfort that I can take from someone else, but after all, I know there is no one that can save me from myself. You were the only one," I sang as quietly as I could. Stitches looked up suddenly as if she heard something. She looked around, but, seeing nothing, began to hum and twirl again.9

I stood and watched her performance, swaying back and forth to the simple tune of my favorite song. Then stitches lost her footing and fell, arms flailing.10

"No!!!" I screamed, but, like calling to the character in a movie not to open the door, it had no effect.11

Her hand flipped a switch and the large Frosty-the-Snowman machine whirred into life (no pun intended). Its ray shot down and hit my father's shadow. Stitches stared in shock and as her father's eyes turned black, she screamed a bone chilling screech that would ring in the ears of victims yet to come. Bright crimson blood ran from his mouth and his shadow stood as he collapsed.12

I started crying as I looked upon his cold, dead face once more. The Shadow soared up to the high ceiling and screeched but as it began to search for its first victim, my vision became blurry and the room melted.13

- - - - - - - 14

I sat up with a start, face wet and mind aching. Where was I? Oh, right, "Faz's" office. Wiping the tears and sweat from my face, I made my way into the main room to look for my brother, the only person I had left.