This Little Piggy

This Little Piggy

M. A. Beasley

Copyright © 2024 M. A. Beasley

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-89157-095-5 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-89157-122-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

This book is for my sister, Karla Upadhyay. She has two children's books available on Amazon and inspired me to write in the first place. She collaborated ideas with me on this book and helped a lot in forming the plot. Also, thank you to my husband, Jonathan, for being so supportive of me.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

About the Author

This book is for my sister, Karla Upadhyay. She has two children's books available on Amazon and inspired me to write in the first place. She collaborated ideas with me on this book and helped a lot in forming the plot. Also, thank you to my husband, Jonathan, for being so supportive of me.

Prologue

Do you know that fear you have when you realize your foot is hanging off the side of the bed? That fear you had as a kid of the idea of monsters under your bed. Even as an adult, the idea of something grabbing you by the foot still creeps you out. There's a reason you're afraid.

I wiped the fog from the mirror after my shower and looked at my reflection. I think to myself, Okay, David, pull yourself together. Perhaps it's the lack of sleep that is getting in your head. This whole thing is ridiculous. I head to my bedroom for clothes and get ready for bed. I take one last look at my feet at the small, barely noticeable red marks on the bottom of each of my toes. Well, all toes except my pinky toe. Maybe they're freckles or something. All that research I've done about this still sounds so silly. Like there's really a fucking monster or something under my bed. This is the sort of stuff little kids are afraid of. I'm just getting freaked out over nothing. I'm seeing scary things because my mind is playing tricks on me due to lack of sleep. That has to be it.

I hear my stepdad yelling at me from the living room to go to sleep. Of course, Tyler is still up playing his damn video game, but heaven forbid they yell at their sweet little angel. I have three years left before I graduate high school, then I'm getting the hell out of here. Never again will I be screamed at for something Tyler did. Never will I get slapped or kicked because I didn't clean something precisely how his majesty wants it done. Now, not only am I treated like shit on the bottom of his shoe but now I'm being haunted by something. Ever since I've started getting these marks on the bottom of my toes the nights I sleep with my feet hanging off the side of the bed, I feel like I'm being watched. I keep seeing this creepy-looking monster with some pig features on the faces of total strangers in the mirror and in dark corners. I'm not sure if it's the fear or lack of sleep that's making me feel like I'm going crazy. I decided to sneak melatonin from my stepdad's medicine cabinet to help me sleep.

I grab the remote and flip on the TV and put the volume on really low. I just need a little background noise to fall asleep. Before I know it, my eyelids get heavier and heavier. I let sleep overcome me.

*****

Suddenly, I'm on a deserted beach lying on a towel on the hot sand. No people are nearby, and the sound of the ocean is so peaceful. The sun warms my face, and I wiggle my toes in the sand. This is the life. I put my arms under my head and let myself relax. The sound of a little girl giggling makes me turn my head. It's a young mother and her baby who looks to be no more than a year old playing in the sand. They are surrounded by lots of sand toys and buckets, which look like they made great use of. There's a pretty spectacular sand castle next to them. Wow, that's quite the project. Nice work, I say to them.

Aw, well, thank you, kind sir. This little one loves to help momma build castles in the sand. She looks back toward her little girl and grabs her feet and starts to tickle them. The little girl laughs and laughs like it's the funniest thing ever. You love to play with Momma, don't ya? Yes, you do! Yes, you do! She throws her head back laughing. She takes one of her toes in between two of her fingers and says, This little piggy goes to market. This little piggy stayed home. She slowly looks from her daughter's face over toward me and continues to say the rhyme. She takes her middle toe and says in a slightly deeper tone, This little piggy had roast beef.

The sun fades behind the clouds, and my whole body shivers in the now-cold air. The sounds of the ocean turn into the sound of some kind of jingling. I've been hearing this random sound for the past few weeks and have no idea what it is. The lady's eyes turn dark as do her daughter's as they are both looking over at me. Their heads both lean slightly to the side as they join together and finish the rhyme, This little piggy has none.

I slowly stand up and start to back away from them. They both stand as well. I turn around to take off running, but the second I turn around, there they both are standing in front of me. My scream catches in my throat. They open their mouths to speak again. And this little piggy goes weeeeeeee all the way home! they both say in this deep demonic voice.

*****

I open my eyes and realize it is just a dream. The only sounds I hear are the faint voices on the TV I left on and my heavy breathing. I look down, and my body grows cold. My weighted blanket has been pulled off of me and is halfway on the floor and one of my feet is hanging off the side of the bed. I pull it back quickly and my heart starts to pound. I look around the room but see nothing. The time was 3:02 a.m., I notice, as I fall back onto my pillow. I shake my head and laugh to myself. I knew this was all silliness. That's when I hear the floor creak again at the foot of my bed. There, standing by my bed, staring down at me, is the dark figure. No! What are you? What do you want from me?

It tilts its head to the side and continues to stare at me. I lie there unable to move or say anything else. It feels like my heart is going to pound out of my chest. In one swift movement, it grabs both of my ankles and pulls me to the floor. My head hits the floor with a thud. I roll over and look toward the space that's now under my bed. There gazing back at me is that pig creature I've been seeing. Its eyes are black, and it is showing its sharp, pointy teeth under that pig nose. I'm paralyzed. I sit up and try to gradually attempt to back away. It reaches out and grabs me by the ankles again and pulls me under the bed.

Chapter 1

I'm standing off to the side of the counter as I wait for my order. I impatiently check the time yet again on my phone. The guy behind the counter gives me a head nod as he puts my pink lemonade and bag with my sandwich in it on the counter next to me. Thank you, I say as I grab my lunch and head out the door. Half the dang lettuce falls out onto my lap when I try to eat and drive down to the police station. My editor and chief at the newspaper I work for just put me on a new case. There was a teenage boy that disappeared from his home two days ago, and he wants me to interview the cop assigned to the case. These are the worst types of stories to cover. This boy is only fifteen years old.

I park in the front of the building, check my reflection in my rearview mirror to make sure I don't have mustard or anything on my face from trying to eat in a hurry, and walk in the double doors. I approach the chic at the front desk like I'm on a mission. Hi, I need to know who was the main officer working on the David Lewis case.

She gives me a who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are look. I'm sorry, who are you?

"My name is Kate Masters, and I'm a reporter from the San Diego Times. She starts to speak again, but before she can get a word out, I put my hand up. Look, I know it's a horrible situation with that missing boy, but I'm just doing my job. The more people who know the details, the more people know about the boy and who he is, the better chances of finding him quickly."

Just leave your card here, and I'll make sure he calls you to give a statement.

I hand her a card from my enormous tote bag. Thank you, I appreciate it.

After parking in the parking garage across the street from my office, I head up to the fourth floor where my editor and chief's office is. Before going in, I take a breath to gather myself. I peek my head in and knock on the door frame since his door was open. May I speak with you, Mr. Lee?

Of course, Kate, come on in. He gestures for me to sit. What can I do for you?

I wasn't able to speak to the officer, but I left my card. If I don't get a call by the end of the day, I'll go back tomorrow.

Alright, well, the last I heard, the family is going to have a press conference tomorrow morning also. I expect you and Leah to be there. Starts at about 10:00 a.m., and here's the address.

Yes, sir. I walk out of his office and head downstairs to my workstation. I go over to Leah's desk. Leah and I have worked together for close to ten years now. We went to college together, became best friends, and made a pack to find a job together after graduation. She's a brilliant photographer. Yo, biznitch. Mr. Lee wants us at the press thing tomorrow for that missing boy. Horrible, isn't it? I hate covering these stories. It's so sad.

I know, right? It makes me scared to death about the idea of ever having kids. Too many bad things happen in this world. She has a slight glisten in her green eyes as she says that. She twirls her long black hair which she does when she's