Helenmollybooks

A long time ago, a young boy lived in a house on a farm near the forest. His parents kept him at home frequently, so he was educated at home and led a sheltered life. Rarely was he allowed to go outside, and it was only during the day, with strict orders to return by sunset. The boy’s father would accompany him on fishing trips. Usually, there wasn’t much conversation. The boy’s father was a man of few words. His mother would talk to him the most. During one of the fishing trips, the boy decided to talk about what he wanted to do when he grew up.

“Dad, I want to be a doctor when I grow up,” he said. His father didn’t respond, just nodded. When they went outside to talk again the next day, the boy asked about girls and how to get a girlfriend. Again, his father didn’t reply, just offered a slight nod. So the boy decided to try something simpler.

“What do you think Mom’s making?” At this, the boy’s father looked up to the sky for a moment before answering.

“She’s probably making some fish and meatloaf for us, son.” The boy nodded, suddenly excited at the prospect of food. He started to talk about something else, but his father held up a hand.

“You’re eleven years old, boy. Why are you talking about girls and what you want to be when you grow up? Focus on your school.” After that, the boy didn’t mention it again. However, the conversation ignited his curiosity about the outside world.

That night, the boy asked if he could explore the woods with his father. His father gave him a stern glance. But that didn’t stop the boy. He began asking nightly. And then he started asking other questions. Like, why isn’t he allowed to have friends, and why are they so far from the nearest town? His father dismissed the questions. But the boy’s curiosity grew only stronger. He had to know what was outside. He’s never been there at night. All he’d known was this house and a small part of the woods. He figured his parents were just being overprotective, and would only get mad that he disobeyed them.

So, one night, the boy lay awake in his bed for hours. He waited for his parents to fall asleep. And eventually, they did. The boy got up, and quietly made his way outside.

The night was cold, with no breeze. The trees danced gently in the wind. As the young boy ventured further out into the night, he could feel something different in his bones. The pitch-black night seemed welcoming for reasons he could not explain. It reminded him of the desire for buttered bread. The instinctual feeling grew stronger as the boy walked away from the house. The moon’s bright light lit up the ground and the area around him. The young boy wondered why his father prevented him from going into the woods at night. He didn’t see anything wrong. The cold night air felt fresh to his senses as he continued to walk into the forest.

When the young boy was halfway there, the boy snapped his head around when he heard a faint but distinctive sound. The front door of the farmhouse was open and a figure stepped out. The boy could barely see their widened eyes. He’d never seen anyone open their eyes so much and it scared him somewhat. The figure seemed to be staring right in the young boy’s direction. Realizing that it was probably his father, the boy calmed down. Figuring he was waiting for him to come back, the young boy started back to the house. When he was a quarter of the way there, the young boy stopped. His father had not moved from the doorway and seemed to be gripping the door tightly.

The young boy was confused. He walked closer to try to find out what was going on. But before he could reach the front door, it slammed shut violently. The boy then went to the window to try and see inside. He saw his parents, but something was wrong. They were sitting in chairs, watching the fireplace, looking like they were crying.

His mother stood and began to pack her things hastily. The boy could hear the father yelling something inside. He swung the front door open again. The boy turned and his father was looking out into the woods. The boy walked further into the light, awaiting any punishment that would happen. But, nothing happened. It was like he wasn’t seen. His father eventually walked back inside and shut the door. The boy tried the door, but it was locked. He watched them through the window. They appeared to be talking about something. His mother kept crying. After a moment, both of them left and walked into the woods, holding only a lantern. The boy followed them and got lost in the underbrush along the way. It took hours to leave the woods, and he reached a stretch of road. He figured if he could get help, he would figure out where his parents were. He jumped up and down, stuck out his thumb, and yelled. No one stopped and no one came. When a car finally passed by, he threw rocks at it. It stopped, and that was when the boy almost fell backward.

Although he’d never been outside in a town, he knew what cars were and how they were made. In fact, he had been studying how cars were mass-manufactured. Only the rich bought them because they could afford them. A model T that had been rolled out a few years ago. But this car? The boy had never seen before in his life. It was green and slender. The size was small, too small to be considered a car. But it was a car. It stopped abruptly, and someone got out. They looked around widely. The boy felt his whole existence drop onto the ground. The person wore shorts, a tank top, and a baseball cap. Thi-this can’t be right, the boy thought. Where am I?

“Who was that, you better come out, you little shit!” The man looked around and walked in the boy’s direction. Though he was afraid, the boy knew this was the only chance he had.

“S-sir, can you help me, please?” But, the man didn’t respond. He started walking further away to the woods, confused.

The boy tried saying it louder.

“Sir, can you help?” The man came back and didn’t reply again.

“These little shitty country kids, throwing things at my car,” the man grumbled. He walked back to his car, and the boy followed. He opened the door and quickly got inside. The man got in as well.

“Sir, can you help me? Sir! Please! I don’t know where I am or where my parents are!” Still, no reply. The boy looked at the man to see if he would look back, and he did. But there was no response from him. It was like he was looking at nothing. The boy shook his head, not wanting to believe it.

He looked in the side mirror. There was no reflection staring back. He was..dead. A ghost. His parents were gone, and there was nothing he could do.