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"THE BIG UGLY SPIDER

IS COMING AFTER YOU ...

HERE COMES THE SPIDER

HE'S GONNA EAT YA UP ...

THEN THE BIG UGLY SPIDER

WILL TURN YOU INTO POO!"




How ... when ... and why ...

those were the memories,

as well as those of a home,

friends,

or whether, or not,

he had a father,

that were gone,

lost forever,

but to the nightmares

of his frantic struggles

to free himself from the hungry spider's web ...

SCREAMING FOR HIS MOTHER'S HELP .....

HEARING VOICES IN THE DARKNESS,

VOICES CHEERING THE SPIDER ON,

"SPIDER POO, SPIDER POO!"

WHILE THE CHILD WATCHED THE CREATURE,

THE SHINY BLACK CREATURE,

"EAT HIM UP, EAT HIM UP!"

AS IT CAME CLOSER, AND CLOSER .....

FEELING A SPIDER LEG

BRUSH-UP AGAINST HIS ANKLE,

HIS LITTLE BODY STIFFENING

AS THE SPIDER CLAIMED THE SPACE ABOVE HIM .....

AND ALL HE COULD DO

WAS STARE INTO IT'S DROOLING MOUTH ...

IT'S GAPING .....

DROOLING .....

HUNGRY MOUTH.
















The child awakened to an explosion,

created by his own scream,

as it echoed throughout the darkness

of the largest bedroom he had ever seen,

the orphanage dormitory ...

where his scream was multiplied

by those whom had been suddenly awakened

by a scream of sheer terror.








He may have known little of the past,

outside of a faintly lingering melody

within the voice of a vanished mother,

but he definately knew fear.








It was a thin black figure

standing in the dormitory's open doorway .....

long, graying, and straggly,

her hair looked like that of a halloween witch cut-out,

against a gauntly pale face of anger .....








It was a long, thin, boney finger flipping on the lights .....








It was a voice,

the shrieking voice,

a mad-woman of chaillot shrieking voice,

rushing down the aisle

between two rows of child-sized beds ......



"STOP THIS NONSENSE ... SSSSHHHHUT ... UP!"








As he knew fear,

it was all too obvious that all the children,

in that dormitory, knew fear ...

as was evident

when the room became engulfed in silence,


a tomb ...


not a sniffle,

nor a whimper,

could be heard anywhere,

as she approached the child's bed,

grabbed him by his wrist,

and in a voice

filled with the same hatred

that glared at him

through two black smudged eyes ...

she shrieked ......





"WE HAVE RULES AROUND HERE,


YOUNG MAN,


AND YOU JUST BROKE A CHAIN-GANG FULL OF EM!"



...... as she pulled him from his bed,

with a firm grip on his wrist,

she pulled him down the aisle ...

dragging him after her ...

as his pants began to fall below his waist

and the other children began to laugh

at his partial nakedness .....

until she stopped,

only for a moment,

swiftly spun around,

glared at them,

flipped off the light,

then continued to drag the child behind her .....


SMACK ......


straight into the door frame,

then stumbling down a large staircase,

where the bottoms of his pajama remained ...

he became as a sack of potatoes

being dragged across a hallway

to the doorway of a closet ...

the door was flung open ...

the sack of potatoes was flung in,

and the door was slammed shut ......





AND LOCKED!

Stomping sounds

up the straircase

filled the darkness,

then haulted ...

abruptly ...

she had stopped ...

she was coming back ...

he quickly scooted back

as far as he could scoot,

and,

with his face buried deep within his bent knees,

his arms crossed over his head,

he awaited the second attack of the banshee from hell.










She unlocked the door,

yanked it open ...



and threw his pajama pants at him,


which landed atop his arms and head.




SLAM ..... LOCK ..... STOMP, STOMP, STOMP ......




Things had happened so quickly ...

one minute he was surrounded by spider legs,

then that scream echoing through the darkness ...

his own scream ... echoed by so many others ...

then the lights had gone on ...

the tall thin figure silouetted in the doorway

flew up and snatched onto him ...

the pain, the fear, the humiliation ...

the falling ...

the absolutely scared to death nausea

in the pit of his little stomach ...

and now, there was only darkness,

and the distant ticking of a large clock ...





tick ... tick ... tick ...


as the seconds slowly ticked by,

his eyes remaining tightly shut ...

his entire body still rigid with fear ...

he had moved not a muscle

as he sat right where the sack of potatoes landed,

in the corner of the closet ...

in a puddle of his own pee.






What does a child do

while sitting on the floor of a locked closet,

his face buried deep within his knees,

surrounded by darkness

and the distant ticking of a clock ...

absolutely nothing ...



but,



perhaps,



to think ...



to wonder ...



where was he?









Of course,

he knew he was in the bathroom ...

the bathroom?

He wasn't in the bathroom.

He was in somebody's closet ...

why would he think of a bathroom?

He hated bathrooms!

Even though he couldn't remember why.

And truth be known,

he didn't really hate them ...

he just didn't like them ...



no ...



he was afraid of them ...

he was scared to death of them.



But why?



And that woman ...



would that smudgy-eyed woman

forget he was in the closet ...

and what if she did ...

would he starve to death ...

would he be there forever ...

until the world ended ...

and if the world ended,

and he was the only kid left in the world,

the only person in the whole wide world,

and he'd be locked in the bathroom ...



no,



not a bathroom ...

not a bathroom ...

a closet.



He'd be locked in this closet ...

all alone ...

listening to that clock ...

forever,

and ever,

and ever ...

would he ever get out of the closet ...

and if he did ......



then what?









If only his mother would come ...

as were the tears,

that slowly began to fall ...

one trailing after another,

then within a steady stream ...

down his naked legs ...

as the seconds slowly ticked into minutes ...

his body rocking,

ever so slightly,

back and forth,

back and forth,

to the ticking of the clock ...



tick ... tick ... tick ...



while deep within his mind

came a memory from the past .....



"... cuz that's how much I love you, baby ..."



..... and the stream became a river ...


then ...


finally ...



sleep.








There was so many pretty things in the Five & Dime ...

flowery embroidered hankies,

sparkly hair combs,

and little plastic diamond rings ......



"Look, Mommy ... DIAMONDS!"



...... that were just the right size

for a four year old's thumb.

He enjoyed being out on the town,

and seeing all the pretties,

with his mother ...



"C'mon ... we've one more store to hit."



but he did wish she wouldn't

pull and yank him so much ...

it made things so confusing

with people rushing here and there,

and the cars zooming this way and that ...



HONK ... HONK!



"What's that on your thumb?

Where did you get that ring?"

OH MY GOD ... YOU LITTLE THIEF!

I'LL TEACH YOU TO STEAL!"



Pulling and yanking,

yanking and scolding ...

back to the Five & Dime,

letting everyone know

that the child was a thief ...

a dirty little thief ...

at only four years old.



"I'm sorry, mommy ... I'm sorry, mommy."








Coming back to the present

and the ticking of the clock.





tick ... tick ... tick ...


It was just another nightmare,

like so many other nightmares,

within this present nightmare called reality ...

and all there was to do

was to hold on tight ...

and to rock ...

ever so slightly ...

back and forth,

back and forth ...

until, after what seemed to be an eternity ...

an eternity of hearing nothing

but the seconds ticking by ...

while mentally shooing away

the oncoming thoughts of abandonment ...

of not being loved ...

not by anyone ...

all alone .....



FOOTSTEPS!



There were footsteps ...

heavy scuffling footsteps,

coming closer and closer ...

becoming louder and louder ...

his muscles taut,

his eyes tightly shut,



he waited



for this new approaching nightmare to strike.



Then ...

the door-knob turned ...

first one way,

then the other .....




"Oh my sweet Jesus, not another one,

I de'clares, Lord,

one'na these here days

the old biddy's gonna lock em all up

in this here closet!"




..... but the door did not open ...

and the footsteps faded into the distance.




He had no idea who had spoken,

though it sounded like a friendly sort of voice,

just friendly enough

to cause him to finally lift his head up.

And it was definately a woman's voice,

but it wasn't that banshee thing

that had tossed him

into this hole in the wall ...

and those words,

or the way she talked ...

it was different from anything he had heard before,

and he played with her words within his mind ......



"My Sweet Jesus ... I de'clare ... I DEE-CLAIR."



...... never noticing the footsteps returning,

the slight jingling of keys being fumbled through,

the sound of a key being placed into the lock ...

but he saw the blinding light

as the closet door was opened ...

and he immediately shut his eyes ...


tightly ...

just as tightly

as all the muscles in his body had become

as it returned to its state of rigidity,

with his face back into his knees ...

and he wished he was a turtle,

he always wished he was a turtle,

with an extra thick shell to protect him from ......



"Cum'mon chil', cum'mon now."



...... the banshee.

But, it wasn't the banshee ...

it was that same friendly voice,

but he could not move,

he could not open his eyes ...

he could not raise his head ...

he was just too scared.

But, the voice ...

it was such a nice voice,

a soothing voice,

that kept coming closer and closer.



"You poor lil' thing, so sceered ...

likes a frightened kitten, you is.

Don't think I be seein' you b'fore.

You must be a new one."



He winced to the touch of her hand

to the top of his head,

as she lifted off

the bottoms of his pajamas.



"Chil', don't 'cha be afraids a me,

I be jes an oversized pussy cat ...

jes likes that ol' cat

in that there story a Alice 'n Wundarland ...

'ceptin' I'z a bit bigga,

and I'z gotz me a much bigga smile ...

can ya seez?"



His chin was gently lifted by her fingertips ...

he opened his eyes, ever so slowly,



and stared into the friendliest face he had ever seen ...

and it belonged to a woman with dark brown skin.

He didn't remember ever seeing anyone

with brown skin before ...

of course,

he really couldn't remember

that much about anything anyway ...

and he couldn't help but smile,

just a little,

at the sight of those big white teeth

against her dark brown skin ...

because ... well ...

to tell the truth ...

she really did look like that old cat,

in Alice in Wonderland,

when he disappeared

and only his smile could be seen ...

but he didn't know that,

because he had never heard of Alice,

or any wonderland ...

but, there was something

that she reminded him of ...





A GINGERBREAD MAN!



She looked like a gingerbread man ...

like a gigantic chocolate covered cookie

with a big happy smiling face.



"Oh My Lord, it's you!

And it looks like

we'z had a bit of a accident here ...

well, no worries, things happens ...

Lord knows that be the truth ...

but we'z bes' be'z gettin' things tidied up

b'fore that ol' biddy ... um, the Mistress ...

gets ta sniffin' 'round heres ...

Lord knows ...

if that ol' sniffer of her's

gets a whiff of this ...

they'll be'z a screamin' fit bouncin' off the walls

from heres ta kingdum come ...

sorry, Lord, I'z jes beez tellin' the truth!"



That said ...

they both looked at each other

and began to giggle ...

just a little ...

just enough to say

that a new friendship had found a beginning.

Or was it an old friendship being renewed?



And, as they talked,

ever so quietly,

the not so distant memories began to re-appear.




He had definately been here before,

he remembered these loving brown eyes

that seemed to say he was

"the sweetest chil' ya ever did see!"

Then why was he here?



And ...

the banshee wasn't the banshee at all,

she was "The Ol' Biddy"!

Then who was the banshee?

He knew there was a banshee!

He may not know where he lived,

or much of anything else,

but he definately knew one thing for sure ...

"THERE IS A BANSHEE, COOKIE, I PROMISE!"

"I believes ya chil', I does believes ya!"

But ... where was the banshee?

And the bathroom,

the claustraphobic bathroom ...

she knew all about that too ...

and how the police had rescued him ...


"jes a few months ago, or so, chil'."


then tossed him into this horrible place.

But ... it wasn't so scary then, was it?

He remembered playing jump-rope,

and making colorful pictures

with his hands ...

handprints!


And there was candy ...

lots and lots of candy ...

like christmas

every saturday ...

and he got to be like Santa Claus,

every saturday!



But things were going to be different this time!



This time ...

he would learn,

all too well ...


THE RULES




ENTER HERE






You Are Welcomed Visitor To Within The Widow's Web

Since Re-Designed

ON

October 10th, 2006





NEWS FLASH

SEPTEMBER 2006

EAST ST. LOUIS, ILLINOIS


A 24 year old woman

accused of killing

a 23 yearl old pregnant woman

and her fetus

told local police

that she drowned the woman's three young children,

ages 7, 2, and 1,

and stuffed them into a washer and dryer

at their apartment building.

The 7 year old,

wearing only underpants,

was found stuffed into a dryer ...

while the other two children

were found nude in the washer.


The mother of the three dead children

bled to death after sustaining an abdominal wound

caused by a sharp object, believed to be scissors.

Authorities believe her womb was cut open

after she was knocked unconscious.



COPYRIGHT 1997 & 2006 BY SHALENE-BILLIE HOLMES