The Writhing Place

the little boy stared out the window again, trees blurring together as the van sped up to match the traffic on the freeway. His thoughts drifted and the horrible pictures wouldn't seem to stay far away... dread seemed to be wrapped around him. almost like the time His two older brothers had wrapped him in the old carpet when Mom wasn't looking. but that was fun, not like this at all. everything was over, his friends... his brothers... and mom. The pictures floated in front of him again until tears seemed to blot them out. silent tears, tears that didn't belong on a little boy... and the writhing in his soul began.