"Wheels skittered in a cloud of red dirt and iron screamed in an explosion of sparks as the locomotive came to a crawling stop in front of the dilapidated station."
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“Poor little boy,” an icy voice whispered. “Poor little boy whose mommy doesn’t love him...”
The last thing Chief knew was a blast of heat and the sound of his mother’s voice as darkness overcame him. 'We’re dead', he thought...
When Chief woke, the room was dark. The sound of his mother’s voice was no longer echoing up the hall, but Rodger was sleeping soundly at the foot of the bed. Chief lifted the book from his chest and reached for the bedside table, his brain filled with a fog...
“Mama wasn’t right, though...”
This is the story of a boy, Chief, who has become troubled by nightmares of a clown that murders him in his sleep. Maybe the love of his mother will make the nightmares stop...then again...maybe not.