Like Water Hold Me Down.
Anyway, this weird and creepy little flash ficlet came from nowehere. It's...ummm, very short. Longer than a drabble 'tho.
Sometimes stories just get lost.
That’s not entirely accurate.
It’s more like bits of stories sometimes get lost.
It’s like how vampires aren’t real. Or how witches may be real, but they’re not like Samantha on Bewitched and can make things happen with a twitch of a nose. Or how werewolves exist only in fiction. Or how demons are only real if you’re of a religious bent. Or how gods walk the earth only in Greek and Roman mythology.
Then there’s the really important missing bit.
People who move very fast, are very strong, heal very quickly, and fight villains are called “superheroes.” They live in comic books.
It’s also true that there are some people who know better. They know that all those bits are real, even if you don’t. That’s what makes them dangerous to you, to your peace of mind, and to society in general.
They’ll never correct you when you declare the things you know to be true, especially when you look down your nose at them with a self-satisfied smirk on your face. No matter how much they might be tempted to set you right, they’ll put up with it because they know that you’re the kind of person who’d round up a posse and burn them at the stake if you knew what they knew.
Don’t bother to say you wouldn’t. They won't believe you. See, once upon a time some of them nearly did get burned at the stake when their families, neighbors, and classmates got too close to the truth.
They’re still a little jumpy about that. Let’s assume you’re fair-minded enough not to blame them.
You’ll also notice that they’re not big fans of horror movies.
That’s what they tell you, anyway. They’ll say it with such a straight face that you’ll always believe them, even if some instinct tells you that you shouldn’t.
The truth is their training films, books, and computer files have plenty enough horror. Hollywood can’t hope to compete.
If you’re very lucky, you’ll never see any of it.
If you’re very unlucky, they’ll be consulting these things after someone finds your mutilated corpse.
And you’re right not to believe them when they say they’re not big fans of horror movies. They rent the DVDs for their monthly “comedy nights” at that all-girl academy they work for in Cleveland.
But they’ll never tell you that.
You might be surprised to know that these people who know all the missing bits of your stories have stories of their own. Some of their stories — a lot more these days then there used to be — also have missing bits.
One difference between you and them is that they know there are missing bits in their stories, but thanks to a London “gas explosion” they don’t know what those bits are. They’re afraid they’ll never be able to find those missing bits ever again. That certainty keeps some of them up at night.
But do you want to know the real difference between you and them?
The missing bits of your stories mean that you can walk out your front door without checking to make sure you’re carrying a stake and holy water. The missing bits mean that you can look at the full moon and think nothing more than, “Pretty.” The missing bits mean you can walk the streets day or night safe in the knowledge that the only thing you have to fear is a human with a questionable conscience — or no conscience at all.
The missing bits let you sleep at night.
The missing bits of their stories, however, can kill them.
And once they’re dead, those missing bits will come after you.
For these people, there’s only one thing more dangerous than a story with missing bits.
It’s when they find the missing bits.
How are you sleeping now?