Little Tommy Watson’s Fever
October 31, 1999
Little Timmy Watson had never missed a day of school. But when he awoke that Halloween morning to the sound of leaves rustling in the trees, a dark mood swept over him and Timmy knew he would be missing his first day.
Timmy could hear the usual hustle and bustle coming from downstairs as his family readies for their busy day.
“You better get a move on Timmy or you’re going to be late,” shouted his mother Ellie.
Timmy slowly rolled out of bed and replied a yell downstairs to Ellie, “Mom I don’t feel well, I must have got what Skippy had.” Even though he felt terrible Timmy never missed a chance to upset his older brother Skip, who hated to be called Skippy.
Ellie rushed up the stairs and was by Timmy’s bedside in seconds. This was the first morning when he was not the first one dressed and waiting at the table for breakfast. She knew something must be wrong.
“I feel like I’m burning up Mom,” he said. Ellie sighed as she checked his forehead. She knew the instant she saw him that he had a fever. Checking a child’s forehead was just a formality mothers go through in order to properly make a decision when deciding if a day home from school and perhaps a trip to the doctor is in order.
“Not today,” Timmy thought. He begged and pleaded with his mother. But he knew it was pointless.
Timmy did indeed have a fever and would in fact be staying home from school that Halloween. And the Watson home would never be the same again.
At least for one Halloween day. When Little Timmy Watson had a fever.
The Man in Timmy’s closet
Timmy’s mother gave him some medicine before she left for work along with strict instructions to check in with her ever few hours. That and shouts of reassurance as she walked out the door to work.
He thought he heard his mother shout something to him as she closed the front door. But he wasn’t sure. The medicine Ellie gave him made him immediately sleepy and the dark mood that had earlier engulfed him suddenly vanished and he drifted off into a deep slumber.
Timmy awoke again to the sounds of the trees as they danced lazily to the music of the wind. But he also thought he heard a man laughing. “Is dad home already,” he mumbled sleepily to himself. He turned to check his clock for the time and noticed he had only been asleep for an hour. “I know I heard a man laughing,” he thought.
He shrugged it off and rolled over and the instant he saw his closet, a movement caught his eye. A hand with long, boney, hairy fingers is holding the door ajar. It’s dark in the closet but Timmy knows what he sees. It isn’t dark in his room.
With his back to the closet Timmy lifts the sheets off himself and starts to stand up. He senses someone is standing behind him. Close. Watching him. Waiting. Breathing.
He hears his bed creek as the intruder crawls across the crumpled covers.
Frozen where he stands, Timmy is so scared that he starts to shiver. His heart is racing as thoughts of unimaginable terrors form in his head. A cold chill runs down Timmy’s spine as he fells someone’s hot breath at the back if his neck. Slow labored breathing. Breath that smells like wet dog fur, or worse.
And the laughing starts anew. A laugh so maniacal, so deranged that it, it doesn’t sound….human.
Suddenly Timmy feels the intruder’s fingers slowly grab his shoulder. His closes his eyes as tight as he can and braces himself for what surely must a monster come to kill him. The fingers tighten their grip even more and Timmy is being spun around. “No please go away,” he begs. Timmy almost passes out from the stench of the intruder’s breath. “This is just a dream,” Timmy keeps thinking.
“This is no dream,” the foul breath monster moaned.
Suddenly Timmy is twirled around and thrown face down on his bed. “I told you,” the monster screamed. “I warned you.”
Timmy pushes himself up and turns he head toward the monster.
The monster rushes towards Timmy’s face and as Timmy opens his eyes the intruder rips of a mask and what Timmy sees scares him almost to the point of a mental breakdown.
He sees……
Skippy. His stupid older brother REALLY is a monster who has the smelliest breath of anything in the universe. And the mere thought of spending an afternoon alone with him, at home and sick, did give Timmy some measure of mental anguish.
“Yea that’s right you little twerp I’m still sick and mom let me stay home again,” Skippy said. “I warned you I’d get you one day for calling me Skippy. My name is Skip! Let that be a lesson to you Little Timmy Watson. And if you ever tell Mom about this you’re dead!”
“Ok Skippy and Happy Halloween” was all Little Timmy Watson said. He was already planning his sweet revenge.
From APRI News Services
October 15, 2011
Little Timmy Watson was found guilty today in a Nasbah Municipal for the murders of his older Skip Watson, his mother Ellie Watson and his father Tim Watson. His little sister Emma Watson was the lone survivor in what police and prosecutors called the most viscous crimes to have ever occurred in Nasbah.
The jury found the youngest Watson to be the culprit in the grisly murders from evidence found at the murder scene and after he confessed to the killings shortly after being taken into custody.
Judge Michaels immediately sentenced the twenty year old Watson to death for the decapitation of his brother’s head and the shooting death of both his parents in the chest.
And while Timmy has never spoken a word to anyone since being taken into custody twelve years ago, he did speak today for the first time since the murders when prompted by Judge Michaels.
With a cold, dark and evil stare aimed right at this reporter Little Timmy Watson replied to the judge when asked why he committed such a hideous crime. “Because they called me Little Timmy Watson that’s why. And I will seek my revenge and kill anyone who has ever called me Little Timmy Watson before.
Little Timmy Watson is set to die in the gas chamber on June 10, 2012.