A 12 Year Old Named, Charlie
![Ripped Paper.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmQjZRXXANvaqCu24oRGSxYNu3pnYYDnf1hD9eYxLsq58S/Ripped%20Paper.jpg)
I don't want to be here anymore. I don't like this place because it's really scary and I know the bad men will find me. They always find me and they always kill me.
Every night when I go to sleep I dream about the bad men killing me. Every night is different and sometimes I die when I'm a grown up, sometimes not. One time when I was a grown up, a bad man said he was sorry, called me his cousin then shot me in the face with a shotgun. Another time, a bad man was driving a car yelling at me in the back seat to stop crying, I felt like a baby because I could not speak, only cry. We crashed and I flew into the windshield because I wasn't buckled. He didn't seem like a bad man after all because he cried when he picked me up and I faded away, I think he was my dad.
The doctor says I don't need to be afraid because it's a dream and dreams are not real. He says I have a very big imagination and it is making me a very scared kid. They call it agoraphobia and say it is uncommon for someone my age to have. My mom doesn't let me watch scary movies or anything with guns and violence because of it. I only watch cartoons and National Geographic channel. I love National Geographic channel because it reminds me of when I was an older boy in one of my dreams.
It started as a good dream, I just turned 15 and lived in a village that looked like Africa. People of my village were all having a fun time dancing and singing around a fire like they do on TV. It was a happy time in that dream that I will never forget because I didn't die. I didn't want to wake up and wished I could stay there forever but my mom woke me up for school. So I prayed that I could return. My wish came true and when I returned, I was stabbed by a man from another village trying to hurt my girlfriend.
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We are from Houston and just moved to El Campo last month. I really like our new home and I finally have friends to play with like my friend Zeke, he lives next door and has a really cool tree house. I didn't have friends at my old home and everybody there called me a weirdo or crazy, nobody liked me. It was different here and perfect until the first day of school. I remember this school and the gang that killed me. One of them hit me on the head with a bat and they threw me under the bleachers in the football field. I cried out for help and nobody came and I slowly faded away until I woke up. I got really scared when I remembered and started to feel very sick. That was also the last thing I remembered. My teacher said I slapped her in the face and called her a bitch for letting me die. My mom and dad are very upset with me right now and I'm grounded from doing anything and I understand what I did was wrong. I snuck on to my notepad and put the schools name in the search bar. That's where I discovered the proof.
My dream about this school really happened and the story I found, proved it. His name was Salvatore and he died here in the bleachers just like my dream. It happened in 1978 and they don't believe me when I tell them it wasn't an accident. He didn't fall off the bleachers and hit his head, he was killed, I was killed and nobody believes me.
That's why I'm in detention, writing this essay about what I did wrong. Mr. Valdez the vice principle demanded I come here after school for the rest of the year as punishment. He sits at his desk for all of detention and watches us do homework or write essays. I'm very scared of him because he is the one from my dream, with the bat. I haven't told anybody about that part of the dream until today because he isn't here.
My name is Charles but everybody calls me Charlie. I get very scared a lot of times but sometimes very angry. I'm 12 years old and alive but every night I die in my dreams over and over. Nobody believes me when I say my dreams are real. I can't stop them from happening because they have already happened. I know you can help me prove to everyone I'm telling the truth because you were there, in the bleachers. I told our teacher you were in trouble in 1978 and I tried to stop them but they killed me instead. She never came to help us and you are still alive.
Nobody believed me until now.
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