Story Debate: Thriller

Hey all, thanks for checking this out. Didn't really have space to put the rules, but you can find them here: http://www.debate.org...Main rules: Actually write it like a story, follow the order of events, character reactions should be realistic.Pepe's goal is to get rid of Lucy. Con will try to stop him, and Pro will try to help.Please comment!My papa kissed me on my forehead, patted the covers on the bed, told me that he loves me, and left. He looked for the switch for a short second, like he did every night ever since we moved in half a year ago, and closed the door. This one night, as ordinarily as it began, was to be remembered by me for ever. I fell asleep fast, and I dreamt of a silvery gray horse trotting up to me in our town. I would grab his white mane, and sit comfortably on his back, and we would both gallop past the houses, the bricks and streets, into the open fields and hills. Always riding into the sunset, which only seemed to get larger and larger as we approached it.I could feel the wind in my hair, and I let go to raise my hands into the air. The horse would whinny with happiness, tossing his head with every sound. And then he started slowing down, trotting a circle to lose speed and finally stopping next to a mud-filled ditch. “Faster horsie.” I urged, swinging my heels like cowboys did in the movies. The horse craned his neck around and looked at me with an evil-looking grin. “Have you ever heard on animal rights, you little punk?” it said, tossing me off it’s back and into the muddy ditch. I hit the cold water with a splash, slowly sinking to the bottom, never feeling it. I woke up, stiff with fear. No, I was simply back in my room, back under the covers, back where there were no such evil horses or infinite puddles. My muscles relaxed, and I put my head on the pillow. I was still very tired. “Hee, hee hee. Your dreams are so stupid, so very naive. Oh yes, very naive.” A woman cackled. “And so easy to breach!” “Is there someone here?” I asked aloud, sitting up in my bed. “Oh yes, of course I’m here.” she whined, stretching it like my sister when I asked stupid questions. “W-Where are you?” “Oh, the question is: Am I? I cannot be somewhere if I even am not, you silly little boy.” she sniffled. Suddenly, a pair of hands covered my eyes and pushed me back to the pillow. I thrashed with them for a short second, but she was gone. Only her irritating cackle remained, growing louder at the fright she’d just pulled on me. “Oh, you silly little puppet - “ I turned around, expecting to see her behind me. Nothing. Just the bedposts and the wall, glowing in the moonlight from the window. “I’m right here. Peek-a-boo, you stupid little boy.” I turned around to face the wall opposite my bed. There she was, her silhouette illuminated inside the wall by a weak blue light. Her black dress flowed around her bare feet, and her extremely long hair covered the entire wall, as if she was floating in water. “So, do you wanna go back to sleep so I can mess up your dream again?” I was paralyzed for a second. The room was turning icy cold, and my hair stood on end. Her hair floated around, her shade seeming to mock me. Shade. She was a shade. I got up out on my bed, and headed towards the door. I didn’t even look at her, with her threatening spikes curving around from her head. I hit the light switch, and got blinded by the flash of brightness. I blinked, adjusting to the light. The wall, it was it’s usual shapeless blue, the plaster not containing any cracks at all. And she was gone. “Stupid goon, trying to get rid of me so early?” her voice was like icicles growing down my spine. Why did it always come from behind my back? I could hear her breathing in, and blowing, as if she was extinguishing a candle. The lights went out. I screamed. It was a long scream. Not the type you give when somebody touches you, or when my sister jumps out of a closet to scare me. It was different, long, because I knew that, whatever she was, she was in the darkness. And she hated me. I stopped only after several seconds. I could hear my dad banging his head in the darkness, someone else running down the stairs. “Now, little boy. Go back to bed, pretend it was nothing to not get in trouble.” her voice was, as usual, behind me. I hated her, because I did just that. I crawled back into bed, and waited for my father’s hand to open the door, look for the switch, and turn on the lights. “What has happened, Pepito?” my dad’s voice had a strong hispanic accent. He stood in the doorway. The shade wasn’t on the wall anymore. “Nothing” “Oh, I know it wasn’t nada.” He looked at me, and I noticed that the covers were too crooked to hide anything. “Papa, is there anything wrong with that wall?” Papa walked over to to wall, looked it over, felt the plaster and finally even knocked on it in different places. “Nothing is wrong, Pepito.” he said, looking at me disapprovingly. He ventured next to my bed. “Did you have a mal dream?” “Si” I responded. The only bit of Spanish I felt confident in, that word was always there for conversations with Papa. He nodded, looking a bit irritated. “Well, if you have any more, come sleep with me and Mama. It’ll be better,” he winked, and left. His hand searched for the switch for a second before the lights were off, and the door closed. I was left in the darkness. “So, is it true that you got a D on you Spanish quiz?! It was only counting to ten, and it’s your very own language, you insolent child. A shame. Did you tell your Papa yet?” Her voice came from above the bed posts, reminding me of the stuffed papers in the bottom of my backpack that Papa shouldn’t find. No, I didn’t. “But he knows, you know. You can’t hide something forever.” her voice pervaded the room. I pulled the covers closer. “Yet he constantly shows off his flawless accent. He’s taunting you, Pepe.” I picture the look of irritation of my father’s face, the way he barely looked when I pointed to the wall. He didn’t even say goodnight “He doesn’t love you at all, he’s just pretending for Mama. And when she leaves, where will you be?” I try to shut out her voice, pushing pillows around my ears. Suddenly, the pillows are ripped from my grasp, and pulled to the wall. There she was, her shade, her halo, her flowing dress, and floating, electricity-fed hair. “No, he loves me. He says so every night.” I explain to her “Your ignorance is slightly amusing. But seriously, who do you think you are kidding? He says it every night, but does it feel real?” I notice how her shadow doesn’t move, yet her voice still projects behind me. And suddenly I understand that, despite the way she treats me, the way she invades my dreams, she is right. “N-no. It doesn’t feel real at all.” With my words, I could almost feel my heart becoming heavier, my soul noticing that it has been pushed around by Papa. I could change that. “And, guess what? We can change that.” she swims closer, until her shade finally rips free of the wall and comes up right in front on my face so that our noses are almost touching and I can see nothing but her shadow. Her hair floats behind her, slowly enveloping me and the bed. The cold is pervasive, and I can see my breath on her dark outline. “I can take care of your traitor - “ she says. I could feel ice running down my back, and watch as her hair covers all from view. I glimpse a slight shadow on the side wall, another being, before her spikes cover all. “If you do something for me.” Her offer stands, seemingly made of real matter, hanging between us on a thread. Here was a shadow woman, showing me how to live a freer life, free of my Papa’s tyrannies, free of fakes, free of everyone. She twists suddenly, so that the wall becomes visible. Her hair somehow floats around to give me a clear view of the plaster and nothing else. Her long, bony finger extends to point forward. “Destroy that wall and free my true form, and I will make you the reaper of men.” I looked forward. That plaster, bright blue during the day, was only a gray matter now, and I had to destroy it. That, and nothing else. And I would not have to put up with Papa, I could flaunt my older sister, I could skip Spanish class, I could do anything. I would become the reaper of men. “Yes” I said, and I instantly wanted to take it back. The words weren’t mine, they were hers, and I could feel as they were thrust upon me. “The first smart decision you made, young man.” her shadow withdrew, slowly falling back to the wall. “I think I made a mistake, starting off the wrong foot.” Her form was now fully inside the wall again, the hair stretching and finally coming to a stop in her iconic position. The silhouette of her touched the ground, and reached her hand out. “My name is Lucy.” she said, and rested her palm on the other side of the wall. “Short for Lucifer.” I threw my bedsheets off, and walked up to the plaster. Her hand was dark, and a shadow as she was. The cold grew as I approached her, freezing my toes. I longed to be back under my covers, but this had to be done first. I held my hand out, and placed my palm on the shadow on Lucy’s palm. Instantly, my hand froze to the plaster, so even when I tried to retrieve it, my hand was stuck. Lucy smiled, and slowly took her hand off. My palm similarly unfroze, and I held it back. Looking for another short second at the wondrous hair,, I noticed that her halo was slight, and blue. One could barely make her out from the dark plaster. I retrieved the pillows, and was about to go back to bed when Lucy spoke again. “Little boy?” her tone was commanding, as if she expected something from me. I thought for a second, before turning to face her. Slowly, I bowed down until I thought I was at the right angle, then slowly going back up. I could see Lucy’s face stretch into a grin, and put the pillows back on the bed. I pulled the covers onto my PJ’s, and rested my head. “Goodnight, little boy.” What have I just done?