Chapter 9: The Boy Who Remembered the Fire
Marcus couldn't stop staring at the photograph.
The reflection in the hospital window had been unmistakable.
It was him.
Or something wearing his face.
And it had been holding a second baby.
He looked at Denise.
“Did you ever see that?””
She shook her head.
“I never saw that photograph before.””
“Where did it come from?””
“I don't know.””
Jordan picked it up.
“Dad, there's something written here.””
He turned the photograph over.
A small sentence had been written beneath the date.
*THE FIRST CHILD WAS NEVER THE ONE YOU BROUGHT HOME.*
Marcus felt his knees weaken.
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Then a child's footsteps moved across the hallway.
One.
Two.
Three.
The nursery wall began to vibrate.
Denise grabbed Marcus's arm.
“We need to get downstairs.””
“No.””
“Marcus!””
“I want to know which child is mine.””
Denise stared at him.
“They're both our children.””
“Then why is one of them trying to take the other?””
She didn't answer.
Jordan moved toward the stairs.
“Dad, I think I know something.””
Marcus turned.
“What?””
Jordan looked down at his green varsity jacket.
“When I was little, I used to have nightmares about the fire.””
Denise frowned.
“Everybody did.””
“No. These were different.””
He looked at his parents.
“I used to dream that I was trapped in the bedroom. I could hear Dad calling my name from downstairs.””
Marcus nodded slowly.
“I remember.””
“But there was another voice.””
“What voice?””
Jordan swallowed.
“My own.””
Silence.
“I could hear myself standing outside the bedroom door, telling Dad not to come inside.””
Marcus felt cold.
“What did it say?””
Jordan looked toward the nursery.
“It said, ‘You already took the wrong one.’”
Denise began shaking her head.
“No.””
Jordan continued.
“I thought it was just a nightmare. But now I remember something else.””
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an old photograph.
It was folded several times.
The edges were worn.
Marcus frowned.
“Where did you get that?””
“I found it in my closet last month.””
He unfolded it.
The photograph showed Jordan at approximately eleven years old.
He was standing in the backyard beside the oak tree.
Behind him stood a little boy.
The same boy from the nursery.
Samuel.
But Jordan wasn't smiling.
He was crying.
Marcus looked at his son.
“Why didn't you show us?””
“Because I thought it was a picture from a dream.””
Denise took the photograph.
Her fingers trembled.
On the back, in childish handwriting, were the words:
*JORDAN PROMISED TO TAKE MY PLACE.*
Marcus stared at his son.
“Did you write this?””
Jordan shook his head.
“I was eleven. I didn't even know Samuel existed.””
Denise looked toward the staircase.
“Jordan, come here.””
He didn't move.
“Mom?””
“Come here, sweetheart.””
Something in her voice made him approach.
She placed both hands on his shoulders.
“Listen to me. If you hear somebody calling you upstairs, don't answer.””
Jordan frowned.
“Why?””
“Because I think it wants you.””
A low laugh drifted through the hallway.
Then came the sound of a bedroom door opening.
Marcus looked up.
The master bedroom light turned on.
A shadow appeared beneath the door.
Someone was standing inside.
Then a voice spoke.
“Jordan?””
Jordan froze.
It sounded like him.
Not the teenager.
The little boy.
“Jordan, it's me.””
He took a step backward.
Marcus grabbed his shoulder.
“Don't answer.””
The voice continued.
“I've been waiting for you.””
Jordan's eyes filled.
“Who are you?””
The moment the words left his mouth, the entire hallway went silent.
Denise covered her mouth.
Marcus looked at his son.
“Why did you answer?””
Jordan shook his head.
“I didn't mean to.””
The master bedroom door opened.
A little boy stepped out.
He wore a blue jacket.
His hair was neatly combed.
His face was identical to Jordan's childhood photographs.
He looked down the stairs.
Then he smiled.
“Hi, Jordan.””
Jordan stared.
“Who are you?””
The little boy tilted his head.
“I'm you.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“Get away from my son.””
The boy looked at him.
“You always say that.””
Marcus clenched his fists.
“Stay where you are.””
The boy smiled again.
“Why did you leave me in the fire, Daddy?””
Marcus stopped.
The boy slowly descended the staircase.
One step.
Then another.
His feet made no sound.
Jordan began trembling.
“Mom, that's me.””
Denise pulled him behind her.
“No, sweetheart.””
“But look at him!””
The little boy reached the bottom of the stairs.
He stood directly in front of Marcus.
Then he raised his sleeve.
A dark birthmark was visible on his left shoulder.
Marcus stared.
He remembered the hospital photograph.
The birthmark.
The same mark.
The little boy looked up.
“You remember now?””
Marcus swallowed.
“Remember what?””
The boy's expression changed.
“You carried me outside.””
Marcus nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
“But you came back for the other one.””
Marcus shook his head.
“No.””
“You did.””
The boy pointed toward Jordan.
“He was still upstairs.””
Jordan stared at him.
“That's not true.””
The little boy turned.
“You don't remember?””
He stepped closer.
“You were holding my hand when the ceiling fell.””
Jordan began crying.
“Stop.””
“You told me to run.””
“Stop!””
“But you couldn't run.””
The boy lowered his voice.
“You were the one who died.””
Nobody moved.
Denise looked at Jordan.
Then at Marcus.
Then back at the little boy.
“No,” she whispered.
The boy nodded.
“Mommy knows.””
Denise began shaking her head.
“You're lying.””
The little boy looked at her.
“You buried me.””
Then he pointed at Jordan.
“And you brought him home.””
Marcus felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath him.
Jordan looked at his mother.
“Mom?””
Denise couldn't look at him.
The boy continued.
“After the fire, Daddy went back upstairs. He found me under the blanket. I was still breathing.””
Marcus stared.
“I saved you.””
The little boy shook his head.
“You saved the other one.””
He pointed at Jordan again.
The teenager slowly backed away.
Marcus looked at his son.
“Jordan, come here.””
Jordan shook his head.
“Dad, I don't know what's happening.””
The boy smiled.
“Tell him what happens when you sleep.””
Jordan looked terrified.
“Shut up.””
“Tell him about the dreams.””
“Shut up!””
The boy continued.
“Tell him about the room with no windows.””
Jordan dropped to his knees.
Denise rushed toward him.
“Jordan!””
He grabbed his head.
“I remember!””
Marcus crouched.
“What do you remember?””
Jordan looked at him.
His eyes were filled with tears.
“I remember the fire.””
Marcus held his shoulders.
“Tell me.””
“I was in the bedroom with Maya. I heard you downstairs. Then the smoke came in.””
Marcus nodded.
“Go on.””
“I tried to open the door, but it wouldn't move.””
Jordan began shaking.
“Then somebody opened it from the other side.””
“Who?””
Jordan looked toward the little boy.
“Him.””
The little boy smiled.
Jordan continued.
“He told me to follow him. He said he knew where Maya was.””
Marcus felt his heart pounding.
“And?””
Jordan looked at his father.
“He took me to the nursery.””
Denise covered her mouth.
Jordan's voice became a whisper.
“There were two babies in the crib.””
Marcus stared.
“One was Samuel?””
Jordan nodded.
“And the other?””
Jordan began crying harder.
“I don't know. But one of them was crying. The other one was laughing.””
The little boy stepped closer.
“You picked me.””
Jordan looked up.
“No.””
“You took my hand.””
“No!””
“You promised we'd never be separated.””
Jordan collapsed against Denise.
Marcus stood slowly.
He looked at the little boy.
“Who are you?””
The child tilted his head.
“I'm the one you buried.””
“Then who is Jordan?””
The boy smiled.
“The one you brought home.””
Denise screamed.
“No!””
The little boy turned toward her.
“You knew.””
Denise shook her head.
“I thought I was saving my son.””
“You saved one.””
The boy pointed at Jordan.
“But not the right one.””
Then he looked at Marcus.
“And now you have to finish what you started.””
The upstairs lights flickered.
The front door unlocked with a loud click.
A cold wind swept through the living room.
The little boy stepped backward toward the staircase.
“Come on, Daddy.””
Marcus didn't move.
The boy looked at Jordan.
“Bring him.””
Jordan slowly lifted his head.
For one terrifying moment, his expression changed.
His eyes became completely still.
Then he stood.
Denise grabbed his arm.
“Jordan?””
He looked at her.
His voice sounded different.
Older.
Colder.
“Mom, let go.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“Jordan, look at me.””
His son turned.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
Then he whispered:
“Dad, I don't think I'm the one who came back.””
The little boy reached the top of the staircase.
He held out his hand.
And Jordan began walking toward him.
Marcus grabbed his son's wrist.
“I'm not losing you again!””
Jordan looked back.
For a second, the frightened teenager returned.
“Dad?””
Then he whispered something that made Marcus release him.
“Don't save me this time.””
The upstairs bedroom door slammed.
The lights went out.
And when they came back on, both boys were gone.
Only two hospital bracelets remained on the floor.
One read:
*JORDAN REED.*
The other read:
*SAMUEL REED.*
Denise picked them up.
She looked at the names.
Then she noticed something written on the inside of Samuel's bracelet.
A tiny sentence.
*ONE CHILD MUST REMAIN BEHIND.*
And from the darkness upstairs came Marcus's voice.
“Denise?””
She turned.
Marcus was standing beside her.
But the voice upstairs spoke again.
“Denise, don't trust the man downstairs.””
May you like
Her husband slowly reached for her hand.
And smiled.
