Nightmare on Elm Street

(I know, I know...the title. But hey, i couldn't help it, I had to use it. Nothing else worked, so just read it alright? I promis you'll like it.)


Joe opened the front door to his family's home on Elm Street his head on cloud nine. The seventeen year old had just returned from a date with his girlfriend Vanessa. The two had spent the day at the Bermont Bay Carnival with Frank and Callie. The plan had been for the four of them to watch the fire works together that evening but Frank had gotten a migraine and Callie had driven him home around five that evening. So Joe and Vanessa had gotten to spend the rest of the evening together. It was now eleven and Joe was just getting in.

As expected the house was dark and quite. The boy's parents were spending the evening with friends and the boys didn't expect them back until the next morning. Their aunt was away, visiting her parents for the week, and Frank was probably in a drugged sleep. Joe was expecting to be the only moving thing in the house at the moment and have to 'fend for himself' for a snack. But he wasn't expecting the knife that greeted him.

"Say nothing, move forward," came the whispered the knife man.

Joe did as he was told, closing the door behind him. Adrenalin pumped through his body, pushing all the tiredness out of his body and helping his eyes to adjust to the dark. The house had been ransacked; it looked like a bomb had gone off. There were papers and broken glass everywhere. Pictures had been torn off the wall and carelessly tossed around. Books had been torn apart and scattered through out the entrance way and rooms. All the Hardy's things had been tossed around, moved, or broken. Nothing was untouched.

There was a light, a very dim light, coming from the kitchen and the sounds of someone rummaging. Joe knew tat his mother kept emergency money and their passports in an old coffee tin, and that there was almost six hundred dollars there. But the money wasn't what was bothering Joe. There was no sign of Frank.

If someone had broken in Frank would have surely known, he was a light sleeper even when drugged. He had to have heard them. Did he not know what was going on and come down to see only to be taken prisoner? Had he thought they were Joe, come down to greet his brother and been injured by them? Or was he upstairs lying low until they left? Had he been able to get away, to call the cops? Or was he dead?

Joe hoped he had gotten away, but something told him that it was a vain hope.

As Joe moved forward the Knife man had moved in behind him, pressing the blade against his throat and taking control of Joe's right arm. "Kitchen," he ordered with another harsh whisper. Again Joe did as he was told and moved carefully to the kitchen.