Discovering A Mute Boy
Chapter 01
Freedom's Flight
Please note this story deals with physical and psychological abuse and something we do not condone or support
in any way shape or form.
in any way shape or form.
WARNING: this story contains sexual content, and contact between young boys. If the subject matter offends you, is not to your tastes, or if you are under legal age for your area, then find something else to read. In the following story all names and events are completely fictional. Although I may mention specific locations, places, or persons any resemblance to said people, locations, or places is completely unintentional.
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This work is copyrighted © by Hunter Woods. No part of this story may be transmitted or reproduced in whole or in part in any form including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, and recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the express written consent of the author. For those of you who just blow this off and decide to steal anyway keep these thoughts below in mind:
“Intentionally using the quotes of others without author attribution is plagiarism and contributes to illiteracy.”
- Rain Bojangles
“Most plagiarists, like the drone, have neither taste to select, industry to acquire, nor skill to improve, but impudently pilfer the honey ready prepared, from the hive.”
- Walter Colton
“Borrowed thoughts, like borrowed money, only show the poverty of the borrower.”
- Lady Marguerite Blessington, Countess of Blessington
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INTRODUCTION
FREEDOM’S FLIGHT
The small frail pallid looking boy stirred slightly inside the darkened confines of the old beat up van and winced in pain, something he’s gotten used to. It was nighttime, dark, and getting colder as he shivered uncontrollably, something else he had gotten used to, the paper thin and tattered fabric of the ill fitting pajamas barely keeping any warmth around him. They were more rags than anything else; all filthy and smelly along with the rest of him as he tried to clear some of the stringy greasy hair from out of his bleary eyes.
His movement created a metal like clanging noise on the flaky rusted bed of the van’s floor when the short chain attached to his ankle rattled along the surface. The wide banded cold metal clamped around his ankle just above the top of his ill fitting tattered canvas shoes made the boy shiver even more and he cringed from the shrill noise of metal on metal. It sounded very harsh in the confines of the small space which had been created for him as a deep-seated fear gripped around the boy’s heart along with a sinking feeling in the pit of his empty stomach. The scraggly boy glanced around furtively before relief settled over his body because he was alone. He’s learned from experience silence was his ally and any noise the enemy because it inevitably ended up in a resounding beating which had continued to sap his spirit and self worth over time.
It hadn’t always been like this, and in the recesses of his splintered and frayed mind the small framed emaciated boy recalled happier days when even his now dull green eyes sparkled with life. Those were long gone now, literally beaten out of him over time to the point where the memories were anymore only fleeting glimpses. With very deliberate movements, being ever so careful, the weak and frail boy settled into a more comfortable position wincing in the process while being mindful of not creating a lot of noise even though he was all alone. It wouldn’t do to let down his guard for one moment because that could spell disaster. Reaching down with his grubby bony fingers he tried to ease the chaffing pain around his ankles from the wide banded shackle attached to it.
He had been chained inside the filthy shabby van for what felt like days now as it sputtered along seemingly chewing up the miles barely taking time to stop. This happened from time to time with the boy’s so called “parents” suddenly packing up the van in the middle of the night and tossing him inside. They weren’t really his parents, this much the boy still remembered, but in the beginning they had insisted he refer to them in this way. These days it really didn’t much matter one way or the other anyway since he never spoke anymore. At some point he simply wouldn’t or couldn’t talk as if his vocal cords had seized up one day with him never having uttered a word afterwards. It had happened after one of his severe beatings, which had him screeching out in pain begging for it to stop until he lay senseless on the floor his voice completely broken like his frail small body. It was the last time he had uttered a word to the total frustration of his “parents,” which led to another resounding beating with him merely laying there drifting off into unconsciousness.
It was the first time he had truly wanted to simply fade away and die, his spirit finally resoundingly broken, but then something within the core of his being made him struggle to remain alive. It was an inner voice, but much more as it took on a general kind of shape. It never showed up in a definitive kind of form, but it was most definitely an image of a little boy which kept sneaking into the deep recesses of his subconscious mind urging him to go on, to not give up ever, no matter what. It had been urgent and insistent to the point of a heartbroken type of pleading which seemed to confuse the boy making him wonder where this other entity was coming from.
The voice somehow always felt familiar, yet his mind could never truly wrap itself completely around this flighty whimsical mysterious like entity as it usually came and went on the fringes between his subconscious and wakeful state of mind. At times it would visit fleetingly in his dreams. Time and time again, this would be the only thing what kept him going, the phantom image of a boy’s soft and tender but sad small voice urging him to never give up no matter what because he mattered in this world. Even though it never outright said so there was the innate sense that the voice felt there was a purpose to the boy’s suffering and somehow he would have something to offer of significance. Those implied promises never much matter to the boy, other than the consoling sense he felt from the phantom like visits, because in reality he always lived in the here and now simply trying to exist and survive.
Looking around him the boy shivered from the frigidness in the air keeping his ears and eyes alert, still wary and frightened, as he now shifted his focus on the chaffing around his ankles. After packing the van full with as much as they could his “parents” had created a very tiny little cubby opening for him along the side and in the back corner of the vehicle, attaching the cold heavy thick shackle around his ankle. There was a short chain attached, which was in turn bolted and soldered to the floor of the van. It wasn’t a long chain, stretching out only about a foot or two giving him just enough room to shift around, but that was about it.
Currently the rusted bucket of bolts, which his “parents” were fond of calling this vehicle, was parked in some dark alleyway, the coolness of the region seeping into not only the van, but into the very bones of the huddled boy inside of it. He didn’t even have a blanket he could wrap himself in, almost as if that would have been a luxury of some sort. The boy also didn’t dare go searching for anything that would keep him warm because it would lead to another beating for sure. Besides, everything was packed up tightly in the large plastic storage containers with tape securing everything in place. He wouldn’t even begin to know where to look much less keep it squirreled away and hidden from sight. It would also take a lot of effort to even get any of the containers open since they were packed up so firmly.
The boy shivered again and he raised his knees up to his chest wrapping his arms around them. He began rocking his small pathetic frail body back and forth trying to warm himself up a little by at least getting the blood inside of him to circulate. Suddenly the front driver’s side door opened up alarming the boy, and despite himself he involuntarily scooted backwards hastily before sensing danger in such behavior. It had been a slight reaction on his part before he once more held completely still. Sheer terror coursed throughout his entire body and he now not only shook because of the cold, but also because of fear. When he noticed it was only the man, a small sense of relief calmed him down a bit, but only slightly as he continued to watch warily through bleary eyes.
It was the woman who was the more vicious of his “parents,” dolling out most of the beatings, but the man wasn’t too far off as he now detected the familiar wheezing grunts emanating from the man before several items were tossed on to the front seat. The rustling noise of packaging sounded loud in the stillness of the evening along with a rattling tinkering kind of noise just beneath the surface as if some small metal items had tumbled around before it suddenly stopped settling into place. The boy’s eyes took in the pockmarked leathery craggy features of the vile sweaty heavy set man looking for any likely signs of violence.
There was the unmistakable stench of alcohol and foul rottenness rolling out of the man’s wheezing mouth assaulting the boy’s senses. Even from a distance it made him crinkle his nose before he immediately put on a neutral face. It wouldn’t do for him to get caught making faces because this too could lead to a beating. The boy was always mindful of remaining completely motionless and submissive showing no emotions for fear of reprisals.
“Oh geeze…it smells in here and you reek of filth boy.” The man wheezed and gagged losing his balance in the process with his heavy body bumping into the door jamb for support because he was currently drunk while the boy winced slightly from the stinging words.
Even though it was a constant daily barrage of disparaging and demoralizing dribble, it still hurt with the boy never having gotten used to the verbal abuse just like he’s never really gotten used to the practically daily beatings. These were things he only managed to tolerate on some level. Some things you never get used to, only being able to deal with them because of some primal instinct for survival. The boy sat there allowing his gaze to look at nothing in particular letting the man dole out his cutting words. To do anything else would open the door for other worse things to follow.
“You’ve got to be the filthiest little shit ever. Not even when I worked at the zoo for a while did the animals smell so god-awful nasty. We will have to do something about that before we continue on our way. There’s no way I’m going to smell your filthy nasty ass all the way up into Canada. I don’t know why we didn’t do it earlier, but I’m sure we can find a place to hose you down or something.” The grotesquely fat evil blob spouted off while a single teardrop managed to escape down the left corner of the boy’s lifeless green eye creating a small clean streak down his otherwise dirty smudged face.
The thought of being hosed down created a panic inside the boy because he knew when the man said ‘hosed down’ he meant just that. They’d simply find a spot to pull off on the side of the road somewhere and literally hose him down with cold water not even bothering to dry him off or change him out of his filthy pajamas. This was the only set of clothing they had for the boy so they’d wash him down with cold water clothes and all. Even though winter was long gone from where they had come from, for some reason it was still very chilly outside in this area. He didn’t know things such as months, but tracked the seasons by the weather and temperature and where they had come from the weather was already warm, but here it was still cold.
The boy didn’t know where they were, other than heading north to Canada, but he’d probably end up sick for sure if they simply hosed him down. The last time he got sick it almost killed him because they had just left him in the cold dank cellar to ride it out on his own without so much as a care in the world. It had been a long journey and struggle for the boy to survive when he had gotten sick, the only saving grace being that he hadn’t been beaten which seemed to frustrate the woman. During this time the ever present specter in the recesses of his mind kept consoling the boy urging him back to health. It had been a horrifying experience leaving the boy with a sense that if it ever happened again he would die for sure.
Other than the single teardrop, the boy’s demeanor didn’t change with the fat slob leering at him through obvious groggy blood shot eyes. “Here,” the man grunted literally throwing a plastic bottle of water in his direction. It hit him in the face making the boy wince because it had hurt. The man laughed cruelly before tossing a plastic bag at the boy watching as it hit the kid in the chest and drop to the floor in front of the little wretch. “It’s been a while since you’ve eaten, but don’t get greedy. This will have to last you for a day or two.” He huffed shaking his head. “You eat way too much as it is, and are beginning to cost us an arm and a leg. If that keeps up we will have to do something about it.” He grunted pushing his bulky weight back from the seat he had been leaning against when he peered into the dark confines of the van.
The boy sat there motionless watching the sweaty heavy set man push the button down on the van’s door locking it before he slammed it shut with such finality. The force of it rocked the rusted shabby excuse of transportation with it shifting around some of the contents inside creating all sorts of rustling and jingling noises. The boy could hear footsteps departing and he waited holding his breath for several long moments before finally exhaling and reaching a hand up to the side of his face where it still stung. He had gotten used to always being in pain, but they rarely hit him anywhere in the face not wanting any bruising to show up there.
It didn’t matter though because his body was always bruised anyway from being beaten, shoved around, prodded, and even from being forced to sleep on a cold rough patchy floor in the basement or currently the uneven rusted one of the van. At any one point his body had a wide range of bruised colorations on it from a deep purple blue all the way to the yellowish green tint. The boy had learned early on how it was a firm rule that he remain covered up at all times so none of his multi colored markings or welts showed on his body. He supposed it was the only reason why they had given him any kind of clothing at all to wear, but whatever the reason he was glad to have something to cover up his hideously battered body. Even he couldn’t stand the sight of his beaten and battered body. He preferred not seeing what lay beneath his tattered clothing almost as if not knowing would make it so he didn’t hurt so much.
The almost daily thrashings he received always occurred somewhere on his body; especially, his butt and the back of his thighs. Usually those beatings came from the woman with the man typically shouting verbal insults at him. The equally heavy set woman would grab him roughly and strip him naked before whipping him with that thin long collapsible metal rod. The beatings were always vicious, creating thin red welts along the back of his thighs which sometimes wandered across his butt too when she got a bit wild with her thrashing.
It happened so often he can’t ever recall never having any welts or bruising somewhere on his body. Even now there were several thin long horizontal lined streaks of welts along the back of his thighs where the woman had used that horrible long slender piece of thin metal collapsible pointer just this morning to teach him some lesson or other. She had yanked his pajama bottoms down to his ankle with him simply allowing it to happen knowing it was inevitable. She had seen him naked so many times now the boy wasn’t even ashamed by being stripped naked in front of the woman.
Shame had nothing to do with it, not considering what always came afterwards, which was even more horrible. The pain, extreme pain always followed, but today something else accompanied the pain, which only confused and worried the boy. Instead of just the throbbing and stinging pain from the blows there was also the feeling of relief followed by that inevitable twitching sensation throughout his body while he was being beaten. The relief and uncontrollable convulsive sensations were new. It’s happened a few times now and something the boy instinctively knew he couldn’t let the woman find out about.
After yanking down his pajama bottoms exposing his naked bruised and battered body the wheezing woman had slammed his head down against the rusted floor of the van with her left hand, pressing it firmly in place before she let loose with that god awful metal rod creating stinging welts all across the back side of his thighs. Her right hand lifted and lowered in quick successive forceful motions seven or eight times forcing the boy to wince in pain as the tears flowed from the corners of his eyes. Along with the pain was that sensation of relief, which also had another odd affect on his body. It immediately made his thingy get hard as it rubbed up against the rusted surface of the van’s metal floor. This only managed to make things even more intense with the result culminating in his body twitching from that sensation of release while also leaving behind a spent sort of feeling. The first time it happened he actually thought he had wet himself. He had done that often, pissed himself, when the thrashings first began, which resulted in an even greater beating, but that hadn’t happened in a long time now.
Throughout it all the only sound he could hear was the almost whistling penetrating noise of the metal rod slicing through the air and the firm smacking noise when steel met the resistance of the boy’s pliable skin. That and of course the wheezing noise from the woman as she exerted herself with the effort of her abrupt trouncing. Not once had a sound escaped the boy’s chapped lips. The odd part of it was that throughout it all the woman kept shouting and cursing insults at him about some sort of lesson or other. For life of him though the boy didn’t know what the lesson was supposed to be about. He never really did, so it was another one of those odd things he had simply gotten used to and accepted.
Afterwards he had remained motionless not wanting the woman to find out about his thingy getting hard. Deep down he instinctively knew it had to remain a secret. It wasn’t really difficult to keep hidden because he had always remained huddled on the ground after one of his beatings waiting for the woman to turn her attention to something else. Remaining motionless right afterwards was just another one of those things he had learned to do. After all it wouldn’t do to make the woman mad again, which would definitely result in another beating right after the first one. Now though he had to be extra careful so she wouldn’t see his hard thingy. It was usually gone by the time the woman finished beating him with his tiny battered body and thingy relaxing in the aftermath of what had just occurred, but he was always worried it would stay hard for some reason.
That had been earlier in the day though with him casually brushing aside the memory like he’s done so often before because at the moment in the here and now he was more concerned about other things. Cautiously the boy reached out and lifted a brown greasy coated paper bag from inside the plastic bag the man had thrown at him. To his surprise it seemed kind of heavy, not to mention still warm. The boy was now visibly shivering from the cold dankness inside the van so shoved the warm greasy coated bag and contents beneath the thin raggedy pajama top pressing it up against his stomach. The warmth of the bag felt wonderful against his ugly bruised and filthy smelly skin. The heat seemed to radiate outwards towards his body as his skin soaked it up managing to help warm up the smaller boy for a few moments. Just this little reprieve seemed like a victory inside the boy’s mind with a sort of euphoric sensation enveloping his fragile tiny battered body. His stomach growled in protest though because it was empty and he tried to recall the last time he ate. He ignored the rumblings for now and focused on the heat enjoying the warmth while it lasted.
After several minutes the boy finally sighed and pulled the bag from beneath his shirt looking inside. There was a plain hamburger sitting on top a large pile of thick chunky sized potato fries. The fragrance of the contents made the boy begin to salivate as he reached tentatively inside the bag with shaky fingers retrieving one of the thick fries and shoving it inside his mouth. The flavor exploded all across his palate he chewed quickly before swallowing. If there was one thing the boy was thankful about these days was that somehow he had managed to endure all of this without having any problems with his teeth. For some reason his “parents” always made sure he brushed his teeth, which when he thought about it was a blessing in disguise because he knew having problems with your teeth could be painful. It came though at the cost of one of their ritualistic types of mannerisms in the way they made sure he brushed them meticulously. Any deviation from their set pattern would result in another one of those severe beatings. The teeth brushing was routine now and he performed the ritual perfectly each time, but from time to time he would still get a beating for some supposed infraction of doing it wrong. It’s another one of those things that simply was what it is.
Picking up the hamburger the boy lifted up the top bun noticing it was a plain thick patty with nothing else on it. This really didn’t surprise him because he had become used to having bland food as he took a small bite of his plain burger. To his surprise though the flavor of the sandwich exploded in his mouth and was really moist making him wonder what kind of meat they had used inside the bar. It didn’t matter because the boy chewed rapidly his hunger overtaking him, but he still closed his eyes savoring the taste. His stomach rumbled eagerly when he swallowed so he took another bite, this time forcing himself to slow down and chew up the food. He focused on gradually and meticulously mashing all the chunks with his teeth savoring the feel of something filling up his mouth along with the explosion of flavor which managed to help satiate a bit of his biting hunger on some small level.
The fat ugly bastard had warned him it needed to last, so the boy took it to heart knowing he needed to make it stretch for as long as possible. Reluctantly, he shoved the sandwich back into the bag taking a quick look inside to gauge the amount of fries. There were a lot of the thick chunky pieces inside the bag making the boy sigh in relief because it would last him for a while. He’d eat the hamburger first leaving the potatoes until the end because they wouldn’t go bad on him so quickly. The boy couldn’t resist taking one more thick chunky potato since it was still warm. He only took small bites though as he closed his eyes enjoying the sensation of having something warm inside his stomach.
When he finally did open his eyes back up something caught his attention in the dark confines of the rusted bucket of bolts they considered transportation. A distant lamp post cast a dim glow through the front driver’s side window, and it glittered along something metal on the floorboard in front of the driver’s. The boy leaned forward a little, his eyes getting big and round while fear gripped his insides. He scooted backwards instinctively and became alarmed. It was the man’s keys, which meant if they came up missing more than likely the boy would be blamed for it and whipped. The thought of him getting beaten and then hosed down with cold water on the way out of town made the boy begin to panic even more because he knew deep down he’d never survive this time around.
Lately the beatings have gotten worse, if that were possible, but due to the cold weather a severe thrashing followed by a dousing of cold water would leave him completely vulnerable. Dread was beginning to seep into his very core now when suddenly a soft tender voice in the recesses of his mind began to hum a distant familiar tune. It was a soft melody with him having forgotten the words long ago, but it managed to calm him down as he started to think of what he could possibly do to get out of this mess.
The boy’s eyes fell on the set of keys once more and he cautiously crawled forward as much as the length of the chain would allow. The keys were too far up towards the front by the gas pedal so he settled down on his stomach, the chilly rusty metal floor of the van feeling extremely cold through the thin worn cottony material of his pajamas. His body shivered involuntarily, but he ignored it and concentrated on the keys.
He stretched out his hand towards the set of keys, the short chain and shackles tugging on his foot making him wince in pain because the wide band dug into the skin around his ankles. The boy pulled so hard he could feel the blood trickling around his ankle when the skin tore open, but it was no use, the keys were out of his reach. He began to sob silently in desperation and without any noise escaping his lips. He was once more beginning to lose control, retreating back into his cubby hole and drawing his knees up against his chest rocking himself. The voice in the back of his mind kept prodding him on, telling him to calm down and think, but to hurry because he didn’t have much time.
Deep down the boy knew the voice was right. He’s been seeing this coming for a while now with his daily beatings becoming ever more severe each passing day, almost as if his so called “parents” were hinting at something. Even just now, the fat man who had tossed him his food, mentioned how they would have to do something because he was costing them too much. That’s what they had claimed too when they had come for him so long ago, declaring that his parents couldn’t afford having two kids anymore.
They had actually attempted to take the other younger boy first, but he had tried to protect the smaller kid by biting the woman so hard she had screamed and punched him in the face. Now in the recesses of his mind the boy somehow recalled that the other kid had been his little brother. The woman had punched him so hard it had knocked him out. When he did finally wake up he had found himself all tied up inside some damp basement. The woman claimed his mom had wanted to get rid of his brother, but now that they had him, and not the younger brother, the woman claimed his parents thought it might be better to take him instead since he cost even more; what, with the piano and violin lessons and all. He didn’t want to believe it, but over time when no one came to save him he figured it had to be true.
At first he had tried to escape several times, but was caught each time and sent a chilling and resounding lesson. The last time he had tried to get away the woman went into such a rage shouting and cursing saying they’d teach him a lesson he’d never forget and began beating him so badly he hadn’t been able to move for over a week. He almost died that last time, and it had literally sapped the strength and determination right out of him to the point he had simply given up trying to escape, thinking it totally useless.
This had been so long ago and even though he had been beaten every day since then he had never come close to dying as the last time he had tried to escape. That was until about four months ago when he had another close call. It was already cold outside with winter having set in, but his “parents” had pulled him outside in the dead of night hosing him off because he had become too filthy before tossing him back downstairs into the dark damp basement. It had taken him weeks to shake off the cold he had caught leaving him weak and wheezing for air his lungs aching with each intake of breath. It hadn’t stopped the beatings this time around, and even though throughout it all he had managed to somehow survive he knew as time went on his luck would run out at some point.
He was older now since the last time he tried to get away so the thought of escaping began to once more fill him with both dread and hope. Deep down he knew if they caught him they’d probably kill him for sure, but would first make him feel pain like he’s never felt before. The thought of what they would do to him sent a cold shiver of despair all up and down his insides almost making him want to throw up, but deep down the boy knew he didn’t have a choice because if he didn’t try now he’d be doomed for sure. He felt it deep down inside of himself. He didn’t have to rely on that voice in his head to tell him this because he felt it right down to the core of his being.
Whatever he planned on doing he needed to do it soon because who knew how much time he had before either the woman or man would come back out. Looking around anxiously the boy could feel his upper body tightening up from his thundering heart which seemed to rattle around frantically inside of his chest actually throbbing as a roaring noise rumbled loudly like a storm in his ears. Clutching at his chest because it began to ache he tried to calm down and concentrate on what to do next.
He needed a way to get to the keys, but trying to open up one of the containers to locate something that he could use would take up too much time. Suddenly his eyes settled on something which made him instinctively cringe back with revulsion, but it was the solution to his problem. Gathering up his courage the boy once more stretched out his body along the floor of the van, but this time towards the passenger side where the woman normally sat. On the floor next to the worn and torn ratty bucket style seat was the collapsible metal pointer that the woman always used when she whipped the boy.
Biting his lower lip he closed his eyes and wrapped his bony fingers around the object while involuntarily cringing as if it were going to burn him. To his surprise it did no such thing, and after a few tense moments he relaxed and quickly pulled on the thin rod expanding it all the way until it was about two feet long. Even with the pointer he didn’t know if he could reach the keys as he shifted into a better position. Once more he felt the tug of the chain against his foot with the metal cuff tearing more of his ankle. Using the tips of his fingers on his end of the pointer he manipulated it until he saw the other end actually poke through the key ring. With some additional effort he was finally rewarded with the set of keys sliding down the sleek cylindrical shape of the metal rod.
Tossing aside the instrument of his many beatings and pain in disgust, the boy quickly began searching through the jumble of keys looking for the right one. His fingers trembled so badly he had to actually squeeze shut his eyes and take a deep breath trying to get them to stop shaking. He was running out of time so opened his eyes glancing out the window anxiously before focusing once more on the set of keys in front of him. His body was sweating now from the extreme fear, which seemed to engulf his very being, and he could feel the beads forming all along his body. Shaking away the dread he finally spotted the correct one as he tried to shove it into the lock which held shut the band around his ankle. He had to try several times, but finally managed to shove it into the small opening and get it turned. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the metal brackets abruptly clicked apart, the suddenness of it catching him by surprise.
The boy merely sat there in stunned silence blankly staring at the chain and wide metal ring sitting on the rusted old floor bed of the vehicle for several long moments. He couldn’t hear anything except the thundering of his chest banging around loudly in his chest. Sheer terror gripped his insides drowning all thoughts and keeping him frozen in place. He could hear the urgent whispers deep in the recesses of his thoughts, but couldn’t make anything out as he finally managed to tear his gaze away from the vile contraption which had held him fast.
He glanced around frantically waiting for the inevitable blows to come barreling down across his small and fragile body. For several moments he just sat there in stunned disbelief when suddenly the urge to flee overcame his fears. Snatching up the plastic bag sitting on the floor, he shoved the greasy paper bag of food along with the bottle of water inside of it and scrambled into the front seat on the passenger side pulling up on the little knob. He felt it move into the unlock position and quickly tugged on the latch opening the door and hopping out of the van feeling the chill biting wind lapping at his skin through his ragged threadbare clothing.
Fear once more threatened to take hold, but he shoved it into the back of his mind and forced his legs to move shoving the food beneath his pajama tops adding a bit more insulation against the frosty air. First, there was one hesitant step followed by another one until he was making his way swiftly down the darkened corridor of the alleyway. He hurried along in the opposite direction of the parked van and the small brick building housing the bar where he knew the man and woman had gone to get drunk. He looked straight ahead and could see freedom just on the opposite side of the street. There wasn’t any traffic at all in this part of the small town when he crossed the road and stepped onto the sidewalk on the opposite side.
A car starting up made him jump and stop for a moment with fear gripping his insides, but it wasn’t the sputtering motor of the van so he sighed in relief. Glancing around he paused trying to decide what to do next. He didn’t know where he was or what to do now, but he also knew he couldn’t take the chance of getting caught. He was only a kid and his “parents” had always been very clear how no one would ever believe a child over an adult. They also made sure he understood they would find him no matter what and he would regret the day he ever ran away. It was part of the reason why he had given up so long ago after they made it a point and nearly beat him to death.
Just thinking about it made the boy tremble in fear with beads of sweat forming on his brow. He began to panic glancing one way and then the other not sure what direction to take. The boy needed to get out of town because staying meant someone would eventually spot him and start asking questions. If they caught him surely his “parents” would find out. That would be the end of it for him; this much he was sure of.
Glancing to the left he could see where the town ended and it got dark with trees huddled up against the dead end road. “Hey! Stop!” He heard someone shouting making him freeze in place as his bladder suddenly chose this very moment to empty, the warm liquid flowing down his left leg to puddle up wetly on the sidewalk by his tattered canvas shoe.
Turning back around to face the inevitable the boy hung his head down dejectedly and held his breath. For several long moments nothing happened so he slowly looked up gazing across the street. A man was running down the same alley he had just come from and rounded the corner once more shouting, but not at him, which confused the boy, until he saw a car slow down and come to a stop. The man who had ran out of the bar and down the alley staggered towards the idling vehicle before climbing inside. The boy stared down the roadway with a blank expression in the direction the car had gone in stunned disbelief and with a sense of relief inside of his chest. A few moments later he blinked his eyes at a once more empty roadway coming out of a dazed state. He had been holding his breath and finally let it out his whole body shaking uncontrollably in relief.
Looking back down at himself the boy grimaced at having wet himself. He hadn’t done that to himself in a long time as the front of his pajama bottoms clung wetly to his soft shriveled up thingy and all along his left leg. The thin dirty and dingy fabric did little to hide anything now that it was wet and even in this dim lighting the boy could make out the skin coloration and outline of his boy thingy. Until recently he never really paid much attention to himself down there other than to make sure it was well protected when he got a beating. Once or twice he had been hit down there and it hurt worse than anyone could imagine.
Lately though, there have been times when it’s sort of done funny things like getting bigger and what he could only describe as it becoming hard or stiff during a beating. It’s happened at other times too getting much bigger and firmer, which had managed to capture his attention. He always made sure to keep it hidden when it puffed up, but lately he had begun to worry that one of his “parents” would see it and whip him because of it. He didn’t understand why they would beat him if his thingy did that, but knew as always they’d have some sort of excuse for it. He didn’t understand himself why lately it’s been inflating like that. It’s happened occasionally in the past for as long as he could remember; especially, when he had to go pee really bad, but back then it only happened sometimes. Now it seemed to happen all the time to him and he didn’t know why.
There have been other changes as well, at least the boy thought so. His thingy when it was soft and not all puffed up also seemed to be bigger than he remembered. Not really a lot bigger, but enough where he noticed. Then there was his little “jigglies” just below his “peepee.” That too seemed a bit larger and lately it felt a bit saggy too. At first he thought it was only his imagination, but he did seem to be changing down there somehow.
He didn’t know why it should surprise him since he had also grown overall a little over time. It was only natural that a boy grew bigger so it must also be the same for things like his hands, arms, and other parts of his body he supposed. He never really had thought about such things until lately though. Of course he couldn’t be sure he was actually getting bigger down there since it wasn’t like any major changes or anything, only that it seemed like it. All he was sure of is it frightened him when his thingy suddenly and for no reason began to puff up and what seemed to him like it getting hard and stiff, which seemed to happen more frequently lately.
Now though as the boy scrutinized the front of his wet pajama bottoms he thought it kind of odd how his thingy actually seemed to have gotten a bit smaller. The skin coloration and outline of his peepee and jigglies were clearly visible now that the fabric of his pajama bottoms was wet. It seemed as if his thingy had sort of shriveled up to about the size of his bony thumb.
As he paused there looking down at himself he also thought it was also kind of strange how he had basically only peed down his left leg leaving the right one completely dry. He shivered, the warm pee having cooled off in this frigid weather. Even his normally soft jigglies seemed to have tightened up into a small tight ball making the boy wonder if this had to do with it getting cold. He was always cold so really hadn’t paid any attention to such minor details. He didn’t even know why he was wondering about it right now, coming back to his senses and panicking for a moment while he looked around realizing he was still in danger.
Not taking any more chances the boy quickly made his way towards the darkened dead end road and the trees ignoring the cold clinging wetness of his pajama bottoms around his left leg. It felt awkward walking in his own filth with the wet material sticking to his leg, but he didn’t have a choice trusting that it would dry out at some point. He didn’t hesitate as he stepped on to a path barely visible in the shadowy fringes of the trees before ducking into the murky dimness of the woods. He didn’t know where the path led, and didn’t much care, so long as he could put as much distance between himself and his so called “parents.”
At first it was slow going because he could barely see where he was heading, but before long his eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting and he began to make better time. With each passing moment the fear, which had gripped him, slowly began to fade into the background. Gradually he began to make out other sounds all around him, little things he’s never heard before, or at least not that he could remember. For some reason the strange noises didn’t seem to scare him, but then again, not much could really frighten him more than getting caught.
He supposed many of the noises were some of the creatures that lived in the woods along with a sound he was now able to make out as running water from a small little creek or something somewhere nearby. Looking off to his right he could make the faint outline of the watery causeway confirming his suspicions as the boy smiled at himself for the discovery. He knew that he should probably be frightened about being in the woods all alone, but the exhilaration of finally being free overrode any such feelings so he boldly continued on his way without a care in the world.
It was cold and dark out in the woods, but the boy had endured all of that before so he simply didn’t let it bother him so much. It’s been a long time since he’s walked this much and he could feel himself getting tired, but he also discovered as long as he kept moving he wasn’t all that cold. So he continued down the path and when he came across other trails, roads, and even houses simply kept going without even thinking about which direction to take other than one which would keep him concealed within the trees. This too should have frightened him, but he had learned a long time ago to live only in the moment so it didn’t bother him as he moved deeper and deeper into the woods leaving the roads and houses behind. From time to time he would take a short break and sit down on a fallen tree or on a small rise sipping from the bottle of water he had tucked away beneath his shirt. He nibbled sparingly from his food knowing it would have to last him.
Time slipped by and before he knew it the boy could tell it was getting lighter all around him with the colors of the forest beginning to come alive. There were countless shades of colors in the foliage all around him; a feast for his eyes which have seen mostly nothing but dullness in the dank darkness of his confinement. Now as it began to get lighter outside everything came alive as he looked around in wonderment. Most of the trees had a silvery white type of bark lending to the brightness in the early daybreak hours of the morning. Seeing everything seemingly come to life as the sun poked its rays through the leafless trees sent the boy’s spirits soaring, a feeling he hadn’t felt in such a long time.
Looking all around him and taking things in, he noticed the trail he was walking on appeared to travel beside a small stream. At first he had constantly came across road crossing and houses, but he hadn’t seen any in a long time indicating he had left the outskirts of the town well behind him. Now all there was left were literally thousands of trees all around him along with many streams and creeks which seemed to intersect one another before separating going off in different directions. At times the trail would skirt these creeks or tributaries while at other times seemingly coming to an end forcing the boy to hop across to the other side where the trail continued onwards. The path he walked on now was narrow and he could tell rarely used; perhaps more so with animals than humans. Still it was a trail so he had continued on his way.
Now as the sun began to make an appearance it started to warm up. When daybreak first appeared the temperature seemed to have gotten colder for several long minutes, but now as the sun continued to rise higher in the sky so too did the temperature. It was still cold outside, way colder than where they had come from, but at least warmer than it had been.
It was almost as if the area around here was still clinging on to winter or at least still refusing to enter into spring. The boy finally took a seat in a small clearing enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun and began to finally think about his next course of action. He’s always live in the moment, but now the realization set in that he would need to do a bit of planning.
Getting out his bottle of water he took a big swig from it not concerned in the slightest because looking around he most definitely wouldn’t have to worry about having anything to drink. Everything all around appeared clean and fresh so he figured the creaks and streams had to be fairly pure as well so wasn’t concerned about getting dirty water. The food situation was something entirely different as he nibbled on a part of his hamburger.
It was cool enough outside so he wasn’t worried about the meat going bad on him even tucked away beneath his pajama top. He had eaten only a small section of it last night so decided to eat some more now and save the rest for later on that evening. It would last long enough for that and the potatoes would last him for another few days if he stretched it out that far.
With it being so cold when it got dark he thought it would be best to travel at night like he had just done. So long as he kept moving he wasn’t cold. During the day time he could sleep enjoying the warmth from the sun. It was still cold, but he could tell it would be much warmer than at night. Looking around he spotted an open area bathed in sunlight and thought it would be a perfect spot to get some sleep. Sighing, he tucked away his food making his way to the clearing satisfied it was far enough away from the trail so he wouldn’t be spotted. The grass was high in this area, taller than his waist, so he trampled it down creating a sort of bed that was both soft and insulated providing some additional heat. It would also conceal him from any prying eyes which may come his way, even though this seemed very unlikely.
Snuggling down into the soft downy like bed the boy couldn’t recall the last time he felt so comfortable. He had always been forced to sleep in a dark cellar of one sort or another on a cold cement floor without a mattress or blanket. It wasn’t so bad in the summer when it was warmer, but during the winter months it was always freezing, the hard cold cement floor seeping into his body only adding to all of his aches and pains from his daily thrashing. Those beatings weren’t always harsh, but they always occurred on a daily basis assuring continued aches and pains that he had to suffer through.
As the boy shifted around into a comfortable position he sighed and grinned giddily for a brief moment before frowning trying to recall the last time he had actually smiled and felt so at ease. He was free and it felt good, but it was also a strange type of feeling because he didn’t know how long it would last. His thoughts on the matter didn’t last long though with exhaustion finally overcoming his week frail body. His eyes fluttered closed and he slowly drifted off into a deep kind of sleep he hasn’t experienced in such a very long time. He slept peacefully not waking up until it was beginning the get cold and dark again.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes the boy slowly sat up wincing in pain as his sore muscles protested. The aches and pains he felt weren’t from his beatings, but rather from muscles which had hardly been used for such a long time. He had walked all night long, which kind of surprised him since he hadn’t been able to do that sort of thing since the woman and man had taken him away from the life he once knew. Just thinking of it made him feel sadness and regret deep down inside of his being as he wiped away the stinging wetness from the corners of his eyes.
It hadn’t always been this way, his confinement. There had been a time when he had been a happy ordinary little boy. Every once in a while he’d recall those days when his memories would suddenly call up images he had long buried deep down inside of himself. As time went on those wondrous flashbacks had occurred less frequently.
The rumbling deep inside his stomach brought him back to the moment and he sighed shaking off the feeling of gloominess. Pulling out the plastic bag which held his meager supply of food from beneath his pajama top the boy immediately began to brush it off. He had secured the plastic bag keeping it closed tightly around the greasy paper sack and was now happy he had made sure to keep the extra wrapping since all sorts of bugs were crawling over the outside of it. The little insects were also swarming all around inside his shirt as he quickly stood up brushing himself off. There were all sorts of bite marks over his body now, but the boy ignored it feeling the price of keeping his food secured was more than worth it. Opening up the plastic bag he was relieved to see the contents inside hadn’t been penetrated by the pesky critters.
Fishing out the last of his burger the boy sat back down and enjoyed the tasty morsel savoring the flavors exploding all along his tongue. He never tasted anything so yummy and wondered what the cook had done to create something so tasty. He’s had hamburgers before, but even now with it all cold and smashed up from being pressed up against his body the flavors simply burst inside his mouth. This wasn’t simply a burger, but something the cook had flavored up with some sort of spices.
Thinking on it the boy wouldn’t mind being a cook some day as he deliberately forced himself to eat the meager portion enjoying each little bite. He even decided to eat half of a potato fry, which also tasted wonderful. He looked at the other half holding it up in front of his face noticing it was laced with some sort of colorful spice making him wonder what could make it taste so good. Last night when it had still been hot his mouth had burst with the flavor that coated the simple thick crispy chunk of a potato. Even now with it being cold and mushy it wasn’t too bad as the boy forced himself to place the other half of the chunky morsel back into the bag.
It wouldn’t do to eat the rest of his food down in one gulp, and more than likely eating too much would make him sick. He’s gotten used to only having a meager amount of rations at any one time. Whoever had prepared the food for him, putting the burger and chunky fries into the bag, had filled up the paper bag nearly to the top. If he was careful the potatoes would last him for several more days.
Within minutes after eating his tiny morsel, the darkness suddenly descended on the boy so he got up and brushed himself off. It got dark quick in these parts and the boy shivered from the sudden chill in the air once the sun disappeared. Making his way back to the trail he stepped on to the path and continued on his way.
The days quickly ticked away into a semblance of routine now as the boy continued to make his way down one small path or another. He didn’t keep track of them because it was something he never did having gotten used to only living in the moment. His stomach did protest though since he hadn’t eaten anything for a couple of days now. The boy’s food had run out, but he simply kept making his way through the forest. The other day he had stumbled across a large lake, the trail splitting off in two directions. The boy figured it didn’t much matter which way he chose because both directions seemed to wander along the edge of the water. He chose left and continued on his way with his stomach protesting since it was empty.
Now he stood at another fork with the small trail ending at a large wide path. It wasn’t a paved road or anything, but it was wide and firm. It was still a trail and too rough perhaps for a car or anything similar, but he was sure other vehicles like a motorcycle could probably travel down it easily enough. With another choice to be made he shrugged his shoulders taking a left on to the wide path which led him in a gentle slope upwards. Taking a right turn might have been easier since it was downwards, but in his mind perhaps the safest route to take was one that had a bit of work involved.
The weather had also changed becoming dreary and wet. It was now raining heavily soaking him down to his very core as he tried to keep warm. The only way to do that was to simply keep walking. He only hoped it would stop raining by the time morning arrived or else he didn’t know what he would do. He was now cold, wet, and hungry; a dangerous situation to be in. As he made his way up the wide path he could hear a distant rumbling with the sky brightening up every once in a while from the lightning storm which threatened to come hammering down on him at any moment. As he continued to trudge his way up the wide path the thick clouds continued to gather getting closer and closer until the rain seemed to pelt down on his poor frail body.
Slowly he made his way through the pounding of the rain and clattering noise from the thunderstorm which seemed right on top of him now as he plodded along on the wide path until it began to level out. He could hardly see three feet in front of his face despite the bright spurts of lighting that lit up the sky every once in a while all around him. The sudden burst of light followed quickly by the loud cracking of thunder made the boy jump out of his skin more than once. Someone would think they’d get used to it after a few times, but each time it happened the boy’s heart would leap into his throat with him literally jerking in fright.
At the top of the rise the boy paused for a moment trying to catch his bearings when he suddenly felt an odd sensation tingling all along his body. Even his now sopping wet and greasy long hair which hung down over his eyes stood up on the end of his head. It frightened the boy so much he abruptly crouched down hugging his knees to his chest and buried his face as the tingling sensation began to course through his body and his ears started to buzz. Suddenly the dark evening sky erupted into a sharp stinging bright flash of light and the tingling feeling intensified coursing through his body while his ears roared loudly with such a ringing sensation. His body was flung off the trail when a tree exploded about twenty feet away from him.
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End of Chapter One: Freedom’s Flight
Coming soon Chapter Two: Nightmares vs. Dreams
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- Rain Bojangles
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- Lady Marguerite Blessington, Countess of Blessington
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INTRODUCTION
FREEDOM’S FLIGHT
The small frail pallid looking boy stirred slightly inside the darkened confines of the old beat up van and winced in pain, something he’s gotten used to. It was nighttime, dark, and getting colder as he shivered uncontrollably, something else he had gotten used to, the paper thin and tattered fabric of the ill fitting pajamas barely keeping any warmth around him. They were more rags than anything else; all filthy and smelly along with the rest of him as he tried to clear some of the stringy greasy hair from out of his bleary eyes.
His movement created a metal like clanging noise on the flaky rusted bed of the van’s floor when the short chain attached to his ankle rattled along the surface. The wide banded cold metal clamped around his ankle just above the top of his ill fitting tattered canvas shoes made the boy shiver even more and he cringed from the shrill noise of metal on metal. It sounded very harsh in the confines of the small space which had been created for him as a deep-seated fear gripped around the boy’s heart along with a sinking feeling in the pit of his empty stomach. The scraggly boy glanced around furtively before relief settled over his body because he was alone. He’s learned from experience silence was his ally and any noise the enemy because it inevitably ended up in a resounding beating which had continued to sap his spirit and self worth over time.
It hadn’t always been like this, and in the recesses of his splintered and frayed mind the small framed emaciated boy recalled happier days when even his now dull green eyes sparkled with life. Those were long gone now, literally beaten out of him over time to the point where the memories were anymore only fleeting glimpses. With very deliberate movements, being ever so careful, the weak and frail boy settled into a more comfortable position wincing in the process while being mindful of not creating a lot of noise even though he was all alone. It wouldn’t do to let down his guard for one moment because that could spell disaster. Reaching down with his grubby bony fingers he tried to ease the chaffing pain around his ankles from the wide banded shackle attached to it.
He had been chained inside the filthy shabby van for what felt like days now as it sputtered along seemingly chewing up the miles barely taking time to stop. This happened from time to time with the boy’s so called “parents” suddenly packing up the van in the middle of the night and tossing him inside. They weren’t really his parents, this much the boy still remembered, but in the beginning they had insisted he refer to them in this way. These days it really didn’t much matter one way or the other anyway since he never spoke anymore. At some point he simply wouldn’t or couldn’t talk as if his vocal cords had seized up one day with him never having uttered a word afterwards. It had happened after one of his severe beatings, which had him screeching out in pain begging for it to stop until he lay senseless on the floor his voice completely broken like his frail small body. It was the last time he had uttered a word to the total frustration of his “parents,” which led to another resounding beating with him merely laying there drifting off into unconsciousness.
It was the first time he had truly wanted to simply fade away and die, his spirit finally resoundingly broken, but then something within the core of his being made him struggle to remain alive. It was an inner voice, but much more as it took on a general kind of shape. It never showed up in a definitive kind of form, but it was most definitely an image of a little boy which kept sneaking into the deep recesses of his subconscious mind urging him to go on, to not give up ever, no matter what. It had been urgent and insistent to the point of a heartbroken type of pleading which seemed to confuse the boy making him wonder where this other entity was coming from.
The voice somehow always felt familiar, yet his mind could never truly wrap itself completely around this flighty whimsical mysterious like entity as it usually came and went on the fringes between his subconscious and wakeful state of mind. At times it would visit fleetingly in his dreams. Time and time again, this would be the only thing what kept him going, the phantom image of a boy’s soft and tender but sad small voice urging him to never give up no matter what because he mattered in this world. Even though it never outright said so there was the innate sense that the voice felt there was a purpose to the boy’s suffering and somehow he would have something to offer of significance. Those implied promises never much matter to the boy, other than the consoling sense he felt from the phantom like visits, because in reality he always lived in the here and now simply trying to exist and survive.
Looking around him the boy shivered from the frigidness in the air keeping his ears and eyes alert, still wary and frightened, as he now shifted his focus on the chaffing around his ankles. After packing the van full with as much as they could his “parents” had created a very tiny little cubby opening for him along the side and in the back corner of the vehicle, attaching the cold heavy thick shackle around his ankle. There was a short chain attached, which was in turn bolted and soldered to the floor of the van. It wasn’t a long chain, stretching out only about a foot or two giving him just enough room to shift around, but that was about it.
Currently the rusted bucket of bolts, which his “parents” were fond of calling this vehicle, was parked in some dark alleyway, the coolness of the region seeping into not only the van, but into the very bones of the huddled boy inside of it. He didn’t even have a blanket he could wrap himself in, almost as if that would have been a luxury of some sort. The boy also didn’t dare go searching for anything that would keep him warm because it would lead to another beating for sure. Besides, everything was packed up tightly in the large plastic storage containers with tape securing everything in place. He wouldn’t even begin to know where to look much less keep it squirreled away and hidden from sight. It would also take a lot of effort to even get any of the containers open since they were packed up so firmly.
The boy shivered again and he raised his knees up to his chest wrapping his arms around them. He began rocking his small pathetic frail body back and forth trying to warm himself up a little by at least getting the blood inside of him to circulate. Suddenly the front driver’s side door opened up alarming the boy, and despite himself he involuntarily scooted backwards hastily before sensing danger in such behavior. It had been a slight reaction on his part before he once more held completely still. Sheer terror coursed throughout his entire body and he now not only shook because of the cold, but also because of fear. When he noticed it was only the man, a small sense of relief calmed him down a bit, but only slightly as he continued to watch warily through bleary eyes.
It was the woman who was the more vicious of his “parents,” dolling out most of the beatings, but the man wasn’t too far off as he now detected the familiar wheezing grunts emanating from the man before several items were tossed on to the front seat. The rustling noise of packaging sounded loud in the stillness of the evening along with a rattling tinkering kind of noise just beneath the surface as if some small metal items had tumbled around before it suddenly stopped settling into place. The boy’s eyes took in the pockmarked leathery craggy features of the vile sweaty heavy set man looking for any likely signs of violence.
There was the unmistakable stench of alcohol and foul rottenness rolling out of the man’s wheezing mouth assaulting the boy’s senses. Even from a distance it made him crinkle his nose before he immediately put on a neutral face. It wouldn’t do for him to get caught making faces because this too could lead to a beating. The boy was always mindful of remaining completely motionless and submissive showing no emotions for fear of reprisals.
“Oh geeze…it smells in here and you reek of filth boy.” The man wheezed and gagged losing his balance in the process with his heavy body bumping into the door jamb for support because he was currently drunk while the boy winced slightly from the stinging words.
Even though it was a constant daily barrage of disparaging and demoralizing dribble, it still hurt with the boy never having gotten used to the verbal abuse just like he’s never really gotten used to the practically daily beatings. These were things he only managed to tolerate on some level. Some things you never get used to, only being able to deal with them because of some primal instinct for survival. The boy sat there allowing his gaze to look at nothing in particular letting the man dole out his cutting words. To do anything else would open the door for other worse things to follow.
“You’ve got to be the filthiest little shit ever. Not even when I worked at the zoo for a while did the animals smell so god-awful nasty. We will have to do something about that before we continue on our way. There’s no way I’m going to smell your filthy nasty ass all the way up into Canada. I don’t know why we didn’t do it earlier, but I’m sure we can find a place to hose you down or something.” The grotesquely fat evil blob spouted off while a single teardrop managed to escape down the left corner of the boy’s lifeless green eye creating a small clean streak down his otherwise dirty smudged face.
The thought of being hosed down created a panic inside the boy because he knew when the man said ‘hosed down’ he meant just that. They’d simply find a spot to pull off on the side of the road somewhere and literally hose him down with cold water not even bothering to dry him off or change him out of his filthy pajamas. This was the only set of clothing they had for the boy so they’d wash him down with cold water clothes and all. Even though winter was long gone from where they had come from, for some reason it was still very chilly outside in this area. He didn’t know things such as months, but tracked the seasons by the weather and temperature and where they had come from the weather was already warm, but here it was still cold.
The boy didn’t know where they were, other than heading north to Canada, but he’d probably end up sick for sure if they simply hosed him down. The last time he got sick it almost killed him because they had just left him in the cold dank cellar to ride it out on his own without so much as a care in the world. It had been a long journey and struggle for the boy to survive when he had gotten sick, the only saving grace being that he hadn’t been beaten which seemed to frustrate the woman. During this time the ever present specter in the recesses of his mind kept consoling the boy urging him back to health. It had been a horrifying experience leaving the boy with a sense that if it ever happened again he would die for sure.
Other than the single teardrop, the boy’s demeanor didn’t change with the fat slob leering at him through obvious groggy blood shot eyes. “Here,” the man grunted literally throwing a plastic bottle of water in his direction. It hit him in the face making the boy wince because it had hurt. The man laughed cruelly before tossing a plastic bag at the boy watching as it hit the kid in the chest and drop to the floor in front of the little wretch. “It’s been a while since you’ve eaten, but don’t get greedy. This will have to last you for a day or two.” He huffed shaking his head. “You eat way too much as it is, and are beginning to cost us an arm and a leg. If that keeps up we will have to do something about it.” He grunted pushing his bulky weight back from the seat he had been leaning against when he peered into the dark confines of the van.
The boy sat there motionless watching the sweaty heavy set man push the button down on the van’s door locking it before he slammed it shut with such finality. The force of it rocked the rusted shabby excuse of transportation with it shifting around some of the contents inside creating all sorts of rustling and jingling noises. The boy could hear footsteps departing and he waited holding his breath for several long moments before finally exhaling and reaching a hand up to the side of his face where it still stung. He had gotten used to always being in pain, but they rarely hit him anywhere in the face not wanting any bruising to show up there.
It didn’t matter though because his body was always bruised anyway from being beaten, shoved around, prodded, and even from being forced to sleep on a cold rough patchy floor in the basement or currently the uneven rusted one of the van. At any one point his body had a wide range of bruised colorations on it from a deep purple blue all the way to the yellowish green tint. The boy had learned early on how it was a firm rule that he remain covered up at all times so none of his multi colored markings or welts showed on his body. He supposed it was the only reason why they had given him any kind of clothing at all to wear, but whatever the reason he was glad to have something to cover up his hideously battered body. Even he couldn’t stand the sight of his beaten and battered body. He preferred not seeing what lay beneath his tattered clothing almost as if not knowing would make it so he didn’t hurt so much.
The almost daily thrashings he received always occurred somewhere on his body; especially, his butt and the back of his thighs. Usually those beatings came from the woman with the man typically shouting verbal insults at him. The equally heavy set woman would grab him roughly and strip him naked before whipping him with that thin long collapsible metal rod. The beatings were always vicious, creating thin red welts along the back of his thighs which sometimes wandered across his butt too when she got a bit wild with her thrashing.
It happened so often he can’t ever recall never having any welts or bruising somewhere on his body. Even now there were several thin long horizontal lined streaks of welts along the back of his thighs where the woman had used that horrible long slender piece of thin metal collapsible pointer just this morning to teach him some lesson or other. She had yanked his pajama bottoms down to his ankle with him simply allowing it to happen knowing it was inevitable. She had seen him naked so many times now the boy wasn’t even ashamed by being stripped naked in front of the woman.
Shame had nothing to do with it, not considering what always came afterwards, which was even more horrible. The pain, extreme pain always followed, but today something else accompanied the pain, which only confused and worried the boy. Instead of just the throbbing and stinging pain from the blows there was also the feeling of relief followed by that inevitable twitching sensation throughout his body while he was being beaten. The relief and uncontrollable convulsive sensations were new. It’s happened a few times now and something the boy instinctively knew he couldn’t let the woman find out about.
After yanking down his pajama bottoms exposing his naked bruised and battered body the wheezing woman had slammed his head down against the rusted floor of the van with her left hand, pressing it firmly in place before she let loose with that god awful metal rod creating stinging welts all across the back side of his thighs. Her right hand lifted and lowered in quick successive forceful motions seven or eight times forcing the boy to wince in pain as the tears flowed from the corners of his eyes. Along with the pain was that sensation of relief, which also had another odd affect on his body. It immediately made his thingy get hard as it rubbed up against the rusted surface of the van’s metal floor. This only managed to make things even more intense with the result culminating in his body twitching from that sensation of release while also leaving behind a spent sort of feeling. The first time it happened he actually thought he had wet himself. He had done that often, pissed himself, when the thrashings first began, which resulted in an even greater beating, but that hadn’t happened in a long time now.
Throughout it all the only sound he could hear was the almost whistling penetrating noise of the metal rod slicing through the air and the firm smacking noise when steel met the resistance of the boy’s pliable skin. That and of course the wheezing noise from the woman as she exerted herself with the effort of her abrupt trouncing. Not once had a sound escaped the boy’s chapped lips. The odd part of it was that throughout it all the woman kept shouting and cursing insults at him about some sort of lesson or other. For life of him though the boy didn’t know what the lesson was supposed to be about. He never really did, so it was another one of those odd things he had simply gotten used to and accepted.
Afterwards he had remained motionless not wanting the woman to find out about his thingy getting hard. Deep down he instinctively knew it had to remain a secret. It wasn’t really difficult to keep hidden because he had always remained huddled on the ground after one of his beatings waiting for the woman to turn her attention to something else. Remaining motionless right afterwards was just another one of those things he had learned to do. After all it wouldn’t do to make the woman mad again, which would definitely result in another beating right after the first one. Now though he had to be extra careful so she wouldn’t see his hard thingy. It was usually gone by the time the woman finished beating him with his tiny battered body and thingy relaxing in the aftermath of what had just occurred, but he was always worried it would stay hard for some reason.
That had been earlier in the day though with him casually brushing aside the memory like he’s done so often before because at the moment in the here and now he was more concerned about other things. Cautiously the boy reached out and lifted a brown greasy coated paper bag from inside the plastic bag the man had thrown at him. To his surprise it seemed kind of heavy, not to mention still warm. The boy was now visibly shivering from the cold dankness inside the van so shoved the warm greasy coated bag and contents beneath the thin raggedy pajama top pressing it up against his stomach. The warmth of the bag felt wonderful against his ugly bruised and filthy smelly skin. The heat seemed to radiate outwards towards his body as his skin soaked it up managing to help warm up the smaller boy for a few moments. Just this little reprieve seemed like a victory inside the boy’s mind with a sort of euphoric sensation enveloping his fragile tiny battered body. His stomach growled in protest though because it was empty and he tried to recall the last time he ate. He ignored the rumblings for now and focused on the heat enjoying the warmth while it lasted.
After several minutes the boy finally sighed and pulled the bag from beneath his shirt looking inside. There was a plain hamburger sitting on top a large pile of thick chunky sized potato fries. The fragrance of the contents made the boy begin to salivate as he reached tentatively inside the bag with shaky fingers retrieving one of the thick fries and shoving it inside his mouth. The flavor exploded all across his palate he chewed quickly before swallowing. If there was one thing the boy was thankful about these days was that somehow he had managed to endure all of this without having any problems with his teeth. For some reason his “parents” always made sure he brushed his teeth, which when he thought about it was a blessing in disguise because he knew having problems with your teeth could be painful. It came though at the cost of one of their ritualistic types of mannerisms in the way they made sure he brushed them meticulously. Any deviation from their set pattern would result in another one of those severe beatings. The teeth brushing was routine now and he performed the ritual perfectly each time, but from time to time he would still get a beating for some supposed infraction of doing it wrong. It’s another one of those things that simply was what it is.
Picking up the hamburger the boy lifted up the top bun noticing it was a plain thick patty with nothing else on it. This really didn’t surprise him because he had become used to having bland food as he took a small bite of his plain burger. To his surprise though the flavor of the sandwich exploded in his mouth and was really moist making him wonder what kind of meat they had used inside the bar. It didn’t matter because the boy chewed rapidly his hunger overtaking him, but he still closed his eyes savoring the taste. His stomach rumbled eagerly when he swallowed so he took another bite, this time forcing himself to slow down and chew up the food. He focused on gradually and meticulously mashing all the chunks with his teeth savoring the feel of something filling up his mouth along with the explosion of flavor which managed to help satiate a bit of his biting hunger on some small level.
The fat ugly bastard had warned him it needed to last, so the boy took it to heart knowing he needed to make it stretch for as long as possible. Reluctantly, he shoved the sandwich back into the bag taking a quick look inside to gauge the amount of fries. There were a lot of the thick chunky pieces inside the bag making the boy sigh in relief because it would last him for a while. He’d eat the hamburger first leaving the potatoes until the end because they wouldn’t go bad on him so quickly. The boy couldn’t resist taking one more thick chunky potato since it was still warm. He only took small bites though as he closed his eyes enjoying the sensation of having something warm inside his stomach.
When he finally did open his eyes back up something caught his attention in the dark confines of the rusted bucket of bolts they considered transportation. A distant lamp post cast a dim glow through the front driver’s side window, and it glittered along something metal on the floorboard in front of the driver’s. The boy leaned forward a little, his eyes getting big and round while fear gripped his insides. He scooted backwards instinctively and became alarmed. It was the man’s keys, which meant if they came up missing more than likely the boy would be blamed for it and whipped. The thought of him getting beaten and then hosed down with cold water on the way out of town made the boy begin to panic even more because he knew deep down he’d never survive this time around.
Lately the beatings have gotten worse, if that were possible, but due to the cold weather a severe thrashing followed by a dousing of cold water would leave him completely vulnerable. Dread was beginning to seep into his very core now when suddenly a soft tender voice in the recesses of his mind began to hum a distant familiar tune. It was a soft melody with him having forgotten the words long ago, but it managed to calm him down as he started to think of what he could possibly do to get out of this mess.
The boy’s eyes fell on the set of keys once more and he cautiously crawled forward as much as the length of the chain would allow. The keys were too far up towards the front by the gas pedal so he settled down on his stomach, the chilly rusty metal floor of the van feeling extremely cold through the thin worn cottony material of his pajamas. His body shivered involuntarily, but he ignored it and concentrated on the keys.
He stretched out his hand towards the set of keys, the short chain and shackles tugging on his foot making him wince in pain because the wide band dug into the skin around his ankles. The boy pulled so hard he could feel the blood trickling around his ankle when the skin tore open, but it was no use, the keys were out of his reach. He began to sob silently in desperation and without any noise escaping his lips. He was once more beginning to lose control, retreating back into his cubby hole and drawing his knees up against his chest rocking himself. The voice in the back of his mind kept prodding him on, telling him to calm down and think, but to hurry because he didn’t have much time.
Deep down the boy knew the voice was right. He’s been seeing this coming for a while now with his daily beatings becoming ever more severe each passing day, almost as if his so called “parents” were hinting at something. Even just now, the fat man who had tossed him his food, mentioned how they would have to do something because he was costing them too much. That’s what they had claimed too when they had come for him so long ago, declaring that his parents couldn’t afford having two kids anymore.
They had actually attempted to take the other younger boy first, but he had tried to protect the smaller kid by biting the woman so hard she had screamed and punched him in the face. Now in the recesses of his mind the boy somehow recalled that the other kid had been his little brother. The woman had punched him so hard it had knocked him out. When he did finally wake up he had found himself all tied up inside some damp basement. The woman claimed his mom had wanted to get rid of his brother, but now that they had him, and not the younger brother, the woman claimed his parents thought it might be better to take him instead since he cost even more; what, with the piano and violin lessons and all. He didn’t want to believe it, but over time when no one came to save him he figured it had to be true.
At first he had tried to escape several times, but was caught each time and sent a chilling and resounding lesson. The last time he had tried to get away the woman went into such a rage shouting and cursing saying they’d teach him a lesson he’d never forget and began beating him so badly he hadn’t been able to move for over a week. He almost died that last time, and it had literally sapped the strength and determination right out of him to the point he had simply given up trying to escape, thinking it totally useless.
This had been so long ago and even though he had been beaten every day since then he had never come close to dying as the last time he had tried to escape. That was until about four months ago when he had another close call. It was already cold outside with winter having set in, but his “parents” had pulled him outside in the dead of night hosing him off because he had become too filthy before tossing him back downstairs into the dark damp basement. It had taken him weeks to shake off the cold he had caught leaving him weak and wheezing for air his lungs aching with each intake of breath. It hadn’t stopped the beatings this time around, and even though throughout it all he had managed to somehow survive he knew as time went on his luck would run out at some point.
He was older now since the last time he tried to get away so the thought of escaping began to once more fill him with both dread and hope. Deep down he knew if they caught him they’d probably kill him for sure, but would first make him feel pain like he’s never felt before. The thought of what they would do to him sent a cold shiver of despair all up and down his insides almost making him want to throw up, but deep down the boy knew he didn’t have a choice because if he didn’t try now he’d be doomed for sure. He felt it deep down inside of himself. He didn’t have to rely on that voice in his head to tell him this because he felt it right down to the core of his being.
Whatever he planned on doing he needed to do it soon because who knew how much time he had before either the woman or man would come back out. Looking around anxiously the boy could feel his upper body tightening up from his thundering heart which seemed to rattle around frantically inside of his chest actually throbbing as a roaring noise rumbled loudly like a storm in his ears. Clutching at his chest because it began to ache he tried to calm down and concentrate on what to do next.
He needed a way to get to the keys, but trying to open up one of the containers to locate something that he could use would take up too much time. Suddenly his eyes settled on something which made him instinctively cringe back with revulsion, but it was the solution to his problem. Gathering up his courage the boy once more stretched out his body along the floor of the van, but this time towards the passenger side where the woman normally sat. On the floor next to the worn and torn ratty bucket style seat was the collapsible metal pointer that the woman always used when she whipped the boy.
Biting his lower lip he closed his eyes and wrapped his bony fingers around the object while involuntarily cringing as if it were going to burn him. To his surprise it did no such thing, and after a few tense moments he relaxed and quickly pulled on the thin rod expanding it all the way until it was about two feet long. Even with the pointer he didn’t know if he could reach the keys as he shifted into a better position. Once more he felt the tug of the chain against his foot with the metal cuff tearing more of his ankle. Using the tips of his fingers on his end of the pointer he manipulated it until he saw the other end actually poke through the key ring. With some additional effort he was finally rewarded with the set of keys sliding down the sleek cylindrical shape of the metal rod.
Tossing aside the instrument of his many beatings and pain in disgust, the boy quickly began searching through the jumble of keys looking for the right one. His fingers trembled so badly he had to actually squeeze shut his eyes and take a deep breath trying to get them to stop shaking. He was running out of time so opened his eyes glancing out the window anxiously before focusing once more on the set of keys in front of him. His body was sweating now from the extreme fear, which seemed to engulf his very being, and he could feel the beads forming all along his body. Shaking away the dread he finally spotted the correct one as he tried to shove it into the lock which held shut the band around his ankle. He had to try several times, but finally managed to shove it into the small opening and get it turned. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the metal brackets abruptly clicked apart, the suddenness of it catching him by surprise.
The boy merely sat there in stunned silence blankly staring at the chain and wide metal ring sitting on the rusted old floor bed of the vehicle for several long moments. He couldn’t hear anything except the thundering of his chest banging around loudly in his chest. Sheer terror gripped his insides drowning all thoughts and keeping him frozen in place. He could hear the urgent whispers deep in the recesses of his thoughts, but couldn’t make anything out as he finally managed to tear his gaze away from the vile contraption which had held him fast.
He glanced around frantically waiting for the inevitable blows to come barreling down across his small and fragile body. For several moments he just sat there in stunned disbelief when suddenly the urge to flee overcame his fears. Snatching up the plastic bag sitting on the floor, he shoved the greasy paper bag of food along with the bottle of water inside of it and scrambled into the front seat on the passenger side pulling up on the little knob. He felt it move into the unlock position and quickly tugged on the latch opening the door and hopping out of the van feeling the chill biting wind lapping at his skin through his ragged threadbare clothing.
Fear once more threatened to take hold, but he shoved it into the back of his mind and forced his legs to move shoving the food beneath his pajama tops adding a bit more insulation against the frosty air. First, there was one hesitant step followed by another one until he was making his way swiftly down the darkened corridor of the alleyway. He hurried along in the opposite direction of the parked van and the small brick building housing the bar where he knew the man and woman had gone to get drunk. He looked straight ahead and could see freedom just on the opposite side of the street. There wasn’t any traffic at all in this part of the small town when he crossed the road and stepped onto the sidewalk on the opposite side.
A car starting up made him jump and stop for a moment with fear gripping his insides, but it wasn’t the sputtering motor of the van so he sighed in relief. Glancing around he paused trying to decide what to do next. He didn’t know where he was or what to do now, but he also knew he couldn’t take the chance of getting caught. He was only a kid and his “parents” had always been very clear how no one would ever believe a child over an adult. They also made sure he understood they would find him no matter what and he would regret the day he ever ran away. It was part of the reason why he had given up so long ago after they made it a point and nearly beat him to death.
Just thinking about it made the boy tremble in fear with beads of sweat forming on his brow. He began to panic glancing one way and then the other not sure what direction to take. The boy needed to get out of town because staying meant someone would eventually spot him and start asking questions. If they caught him surely his “parents” would find out. That would be the end of it for him; this much he was sure of.
Glancing to the left he could see where the town ended and it got dark with trees huddled up against the dead end road. “Hey! Stop!” He heard someone shouting making him freeze in place as his bladder suddenly chose this very moment to empty, the warm liquid flowing down his left leg to puddle up wetly on the sidewalk by his tattered canvas shoe.
Turning back around to face the inevitable the boy hung his head down dejectedly and held his breath. For several long moments nothing happened so he slowly looked up gazing across the street. A man was running down the same alley he had just come from and rounded the corner once more shouting, but not at him, which confused the boy, until he saw a car slow down and come to a stop. The man who had ran out of the bar and down the alley staggered towards the idling vehicle before climbing inside. The boy stared down the roadway with a blank expression in the direction the car had gone in stunned disbelief and with a sense of relief inside of his chest. A few moments later he blinked his eyes at a once more empty roadway coming out of a dazed state. He had been holding his breath and finally let it out his whole body shaking uncontrollably in relief.
Looking back down at himself the boy grimaced at having wet himself. He hadn’t done that to himself in a long time as the front of his pajama bottoms clung wetly to his soft shriveled up thingy and all along his left leg. The thin dirty and dingy fabric did little to hide anything now that it was wet and even in this dim lighting the boy could make out the skin coloration and outline of his boy thingy. Until recently he never really paid much attention to himself down there other than to make sure it was well protected when he got a beating. Once or twice he had been hit down there and it hurt worse than anyone could imagine.
Lately though, there have been times when it’s sort of done funny things like getting bigger and what he could only describe as it becoming hard or stiff during a beating. It’s happened at other times too getting much bigger and firmer, which had managed to capture his attention. He always made sure to keep it hidden when it puffed up, but lately he had begun to worry that one of his “parents” would see it and whip him because of it. He didn’t understand why they would beat him if his thingy did that, but knew as always they’d have some sort of excuse for it. He didn’t understand himself why lately it’s been inflating like that. It’s happened occasionally in the past for as long as he could remember; especially, when he had to go pee really bad, but back then it only happened sometimes. Now it seemed to happen all the time to him and he didn’t know why.
There have been other changes as well, at least the boy thought so. His thingy when it was soft and not all puffed up also seemed to be bigger than he remembered. Not really a lot bigger, but enough where he noticed. Then there was his little “jigglies” just below his “peepee.” That too seemed a bit larger and lately it felt a bit saggy too. At first he thought it was only his imagination, but he did seem to be changing down there somehow.
He didn’t know why it should surprise him since he had also grown overall a little over time. It was only natural that a boy grew bigger so it must also be the same for things like his hands, arms, and other parts of his body he supposed. He never really had thought about such things until lately though. Of course he couldn’t be sure he was actually getting bigger down there since it wasn’t like any major changes or anything, only that it seemed like it. All he was sure of is it frightened him when his thingy suddenly and for no reason began to puff up and what seemed to him like it getting hard and stiff, which seemed to happen more frequently lately.
Now though as the boy scrutinized the front of his wet pajama bottoms he thought it kind of odd how his thingy actually seemed to have gotten a bit smaller. The skin coloration and outline of his peepee and jigglies were clearly visible now that the fabric of his pajama bottoms was wet. It seemed as if his thingy had sort of shriveled up to about the size of his bony thumb.
As he paused there looking down at himself he also thought it was also kind of strange how he had basically only peed down his left leg leaving the right one completely dry. He shivered, the warm pee having cooled off in this frigid weather. Even his normally soft jigglies seemed to have tightened up into a small tight ball making the boy wonder if this had to do with it getting cold. He was always cold so really hadn’t paid any attention to such minor details. He didn’t even know why he was wondering about it right now, coming back to his senses and panicking for a moment while he looked around realizing he was still in danger.
Not taking any more chances the boy quickly made his way towards the darkened dead end road and the trees ignoring the cold clinging wetness of his pajama bottoms around his left leg. It felt awkward walking in his own filth with the wet material sticking to his leg, but he didn’t have a choice trusting that it would dry out at some point. He didn’t hesitate as he stepped on to a path barely visible in the shadowy fringes of the trees before ducking into the murky dimness of the woods. He didn’t know where the path led, and didn’t much care, so long as he could put as much distance between himself and his so called “parents.”
At first it was slow going because he could barely see where he was heading, but before long his eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting and he began to make better time. With each passing moment the fear, which had gripped him, slowly began to fade into the background. Gradually he began to make out other sounds all around him, little things he’s never heard before, or at least not that he could remember. For some reason the strange noises didn’t seem to scare him, but then again, not much could really frighten him more than getting caught.
He supposed many of the noises were some of the creatures that lived in the woods along with a sound he was now able to make out as running water from a small little creek or something somewhere nearby. Looking off to his right he could make the faint outline of the watery causeway confirming his suspicions as the boy smiled at himself for the discovery. He knew that he should probably be frightened about being in the woods all alone, but the exhilaration of finally being free overrode any such feelings so he boldly continued on his way without a care in the world.
It was cold and dark out in the woods, but the boy had endured all of that before so he simply didn’t let it bother him so much. It’s been a long time since he’s walked this much and he could feel himself getting tired, but he also discovered as long as he kept moving he wasn’t all that cold. So he continued down the path and when he came across other trails, roads, and even houses simply kept going without even thinking about which direction to take other than one which would keep him concealed within the trees. This too should have frightened him, but he had learned a long time ago to live only in the moment so it didn’t bother him as he moved deeper and deeper into the woods leaving the roads and houses behind. From time to time he would take a short break and sit down on a fallen tree or on a small rise sipping from the bottle of water he had tucked away beneath his shirt. He nibbled sparingly from his food knowing it would have to last him.
Time slipped by and before he knew it the boy could tell it was getting lighter all around him with the colors of the forest beginning to come alive. There were countless shades of colors in the foliage all around him; a feast for his eyes which have seen mostly nothing but dullness in the dank darkness of his confinement. Now as it began to get lighter outside everything came alive as he looked around in wonderment. Most of the trees had a silvery white type of bark lending to the brightness in the early daybreak hours of the morning. Seeing everything seemingly come to life as the sun poked its rays through the leafless trees sent the boy’s spirits soaring, a feeling he hadn’t felt in such a long time.
Looking all around him and taking things in, he noticed the trail he was walking on appeared to travel beside a small stream. At first he had constantly came across road crossing and houses, but he hadn’t seen any in a long time indicating he had left the outskirts of the town well behind him. Now all there was left were literally thousands of trees all around him along with many streams and creeks which seemed to intersect one another before separating going off in different directions. At times the trail would skirt these creeks or tributaries while at other times seemingly coming to an end forcing the boy to hop across to the other side where the trail continued onwards. The path he walked on now was narrow and he could tell rarely used; perhaps more so with animals than humans. Still it was a trail so he had continued on his way.
Now as the sun began to make an appearance it started to warm up. When daybreak first appeared the temperature seemed to have gotten colder for several long minutes, but now as the sun continued to rise higher in the sky so too did the temperature. It was still cold outside, way colder than where they had come from, but at least warmer than it had been.
It was almost as if the area around here was still clinging on to winter or at least still refusing to enter into spring. The boy finally took a seat in a small clearing enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun and began to finally think about his next course of action. He’s always live in the moment, but now the realization set in that he would need to do a bit of planning.
Getting out his bottle of water he took a big swig from it not concerned in the slightest because looking around he most definitely wouldn’t have to worry about having anything to drink. Everything all around appeared clean and fresh so he figured the creaks and streams had to be fairly pure as well so wasn’t concerned about getting dirty water. The food situation was something entirely different as he nibbled on a part of his hamburger.
It was cool enough outside so he wasn’t worried about the meat going bad on him even tucked away beneath his pajama top. He had eaten only a small section of it last night so decided to eat some more now and save the rest for later on that evening. It would last long enough for that and the potatoes would last him for another few days if he stretched it out that far.
With it being so cold when it got dark he thought it would be best to travel at night like he had just done. So long as he kept moving he wasn’t cold. During the day time he could sleep enjoying the warmth from the sun. It was still cold, but he could tell it would be much warmer than at night. Looking around he spotted an open area bathed in sunlight and thought it would be a perfect spot to get some sleep. Sighing, he tucked away his food making his way to the clearing satisfied it was far enough away from the trail so he wouldn’t be spotted. The grass was high in this area, taller than his waist, so he trampled it down creating a sort of bed that was both soft and insulated providing some additional heat. It would also conceal him from any prying eyes which may come his way, even though this seemed very unlikely.
Snuggling down into the soft downy like bed the boy couldn’t recall the last time he felt so comfortable. He had always been forced to sleep in a dark cellar of one sort or another on a cold cement floor without a mattress or blanket. It wasn’t so bad in the summer when it was warmer, but during the winter months it was always freezing, the hard cold cement floor seeping into his body only adding to all of his aches and pains from his daily thrashing. Those beatings weren’t always harsh, but they always occurred on a daily basis assuring continued aches and pains that he had to suffer through.
As the boy shifted around into a comfortable position he sighed and grinned giddily for a brief moment before frowning trying to recall the last time he had actually smiled and felt so at ease. He was free and it felt good, but it was also a strange type of feeling because he didn’t know how long it would last. His thoughts on the matter didn’t last long though with exhaustion finally overcoming his week frail body. His eyes fluttered closed and he slowly drifted off into a deep kind of sleep he hasn’t experienced in such a very long time. He slept peacefully not waking up until it was beginning the get cold and dark again.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes the boy slowly sat up wincing in pain as his sore muscles protested. The aches and pains he felt weren’t from his beatings, but rather from muscles which had hardly been used for such a long time. He had walked all night long, which kind of surprised him since he hadn’t been able to do that sort of thing since the woman and man had taken him away from the life he once knew. Just thinking of it made him feel sadness and regret deep down inside of his being as he wiped away the stinging wetness from the corners of his eyes.
It hadn’t always been this way, his confinement. There had been a time when he had been a happy ordinary little boy. Every once in a while he’d recall those days when his memories would suddenly call up images he had long buried deep down inside of himself. As time went on those wondrous flashbacks had occurred less frequently.
The rumbling deep inside his stomach brought him back to the moment and he sighed shaking off the feeling of gloominess. Pulling out the plastic bag which held his meager supply of food from beneath his pajama top the boy immediately began to brush it off. He had secured the plastic bag keeping it closed tightly around the greasy paper sack and was now happy he had made sure to keep the extra wrapping since all sorts of bugs were crawling over the outside of it. The little insects were also swarming all around inside his shirt as he quickly stood up brushing himself off. There were all sorts of bite marks over his body now, but the boy ignored it feeling the price of keeping his food secured was more than worth it. Opening up the plastic bag he was relieved to see the contents inside hadn’t been penetrated by the pesky critters.
Fishing out the last of his burger the boy sat back down and enjoyed the tasty morsel savoring the flavors exploding all along his tongue. He never tasted anything so yummy and wondered what the cook had done to create something so tasty. He’s had hamburgers before, but even now with it all cold and smashed up from being pressed up against his body the flavors simply burst inside his mouth. This wasn’t simply a burger, but something the cook had flavored up with some sort of spices.
Thinking on it the boy wouldn’t mind being a cook some day as he deliberately forced himself to eat the meager portion enjoying each little bite. He even decided to eat half of a potato fry, which also tasted wonderful. He looked at the other half holding it up in front of his face noticing it was laced with some sort of colorful spice making him wonder what could make it taste so good. Last night when it had still been hot his mouth had burst with the flavor that coated the simple thick crispy chunk of a potato. Even now with it being cold and mushy it wasn’t too bad as the boy forced himself to place the other half of the chunky morsel back into the bag.
It wouldn’t do to eat the rest of his food down in one gulp, and more than likely eating too much would make him sick. He’s gotten used to only having a meager amount of rations at any one time. Whoever had prepared the food for him, putting the burger and chunky fries into the bag, had filled up the paper bag nearly to the top. If he was careful the potatoes would last him for several more days.
Within minutes after eating his tiny morsel, the darkness suddenly descended on the boy so he got up and brushed himself off. It got dark quick in these parts and the boy shivered from the sudden chill in the air once the sun disappeared. Making his way back to the trail he stepped on to the path and continued on his way.
The days quickly ticked away into a semblance of routine now as the boy continued to make his way down one small path or another. He didn’t keep track of them because it was something he never did having gotten used to only living in the moment. His stomach did protest though since he hadn’t eaten anything for a couple of days now. The boy’s food had run out, but he simply kept making his way through the forest. The other day he had stumbled across a large lake, the trail splitting off in two directions. The boy figured it didn’t much matter which way he chose because both directions seemed to wander along the edge of the water. He chose left and continued on his way with his stomach protesting since it was empty.
Now he stood at another fork with the small trail ending at a large wide path. It wasn’t a paved road or anything, but it was wide and firm. It was still a trail and too rough perhaps for a car or anything similar, but he was sure other vehicles like a motorcycle could probably travel down it easily enough. With another choice to be made he shrugged his shoulders taking a left on to the wide path which led him in a gentle slope upwards. Taking a right turn might have been easier since it was downwards, but in his mind perhaps the safest route to take was one that had a bit of work involved.
The weather had also changed becoming dreary and wet. It was now raining heavily soaking him down to his very core as he tried to keep warm. The only way to do that was to simply keep walking. He only hoped it would stop raining by the time morning arrived or else he didn’t know what he would do. He was now cold, wet, and hungry; a dangerous situation to be in. As he made his way up the wide path he could hear a distant rumbling with the sky brightening up every once in a while from the lightning storm which threatened to come hammering down on him at any moment. As he continued to trudge his way up the wide path the thick clouds continued to gather getting closer and closer until the rain seemed to pelt down on his poor frail body.
Slowly he made his way through the pounding of the rain and clattering noise from the thunderstorm which seemed right on top of him now as he plodded along on the wide path until it began to level out. He could hardly see three feet in front of his face despite the bright spurts of lighting that lit up the sky every once in a while all around him. The sudden burst of light followed quickly by the loud cracking of thunder made the boy jump out of his skin more than once. Someone would think they’d get used to it after a few times, but each time it happened the boy’s heart would leap into his throat with him literally jerking in fright.
At the top of the rise the boy paused for a moment trying to catch his bearings when he suddenly felt an odd sensation tingling all along his body. Even his now sopping wet and greasy long hair which hung down over his eyes stood up on the end of his head. It frightened the boy so much he abruptly crouched down hugging his knees to his chest and buried his face as the tingling sensation began to course through his body and his ears started to buzz. Suddenly the dark evening sky erupted into a sharp stinging bright flash of light and the tingling feeling intensified coursing through his body while his ears roared loudly with such a ringing sensation. His body was flung off the trail when a tree exploded about twenty feet away from him.
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End of Chapter One: Freedom’s Flight
Coming soon Chapter Two: Nightmares vs. Dreams
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