The Boy That Never Lived

I stepped in front of the derelict house not knowing what waited within. I was about to open the gate but whether it was the supernatural or the wind, the gate opened itself which sent a chill down my spine. I walked through dismissing what had happened and reached the main door. The front porch was foul, with bin bags which had been there for years, with rats darting out from the long weeds to the bags… some even coming from the house. I could smell the stench of maggots wriggling and turning within them and made me gag. The door was wood-worm infested and, although it was locked, when pushing at the door with the slightest of strength, the door gave in and opened. The events that followed was surely something I would never forget and I regret even taking a step into the accursed house…

There was always this boy (probably around 10 years of age) who would come and sit outside my door waiting to play. But over the years, he didn’t seem to age the slightest. He just stayed exactly the same. One day my we were playing and although he wasn’t as the energetic kind of kid, he still played. Because of his lack of energy, at times it would get boring to play with him. The boy had sallow, sunken eyes. His hair was like a frizzy mop which covered one of his eyes and his lips were parched. To be honest, I didn’t care who I played with as long as they were nice.

One day I found him just sitting, and he wouldn’t get up. I kept on nudging him to play but he wouldn’t get up! I tried pulling his hand, but as soon as I touched it I shook in terror by how cold it was. He was a walking freezer! From that day onward, I tried to not tug his hand ever again. Mum came out to take a picture of me playing, but once she took the shot, the boy never appeared in the picture. This concerned her a lot although she hadn’t told me at the time.

2 years later, I went to play with the boy again, but this time my mum stopped me at the door. “This friend of yours… is he real?” she asked.

“What do you mean, is he real? Of course he is!” I said in protest.

“I don’t think he is. You’re just imagining him… he’s not really there,” she replied.

“W-what? What do you mean?!” I exclaimed.

“Look!” she said. She got out her phone and showed me a picture of me playing. “You were ‘playing’ with him, but he wasn’t there!” she said. I was horrified to see what was in front of me! What on earth?! I went outside to go play regardless and yet there I still saw him. “Look, mum!! He is right there!” I ran around him and pointed at him. “SEE! SEE! SEE!” I shouted. My mum decided to take another picture and then showed me. That is when I was truly petrified. How could this be? I cried and ran away. I looked behind me and saw the boy get up slowly and follow me. At the same time, I see my dad walking out, wondering what all the fuss was and then see my mother showing her phone to him. NO! I thought It can’t be true! I look behind me again at the boy, not feeling the same way I did before.

I went to the nearby park and sat down on a bench. I saw the boy still strolling toward me. He came and sat down beside me, looking at his feet. Now that I think about it, I realise that whenever we went to go trick or treating, no one would ever give him sweets, as if he were never there. I started poking his shoulders, arms, hands, legs, feet but I could feel them! But then why wouldn’t he be in the pictures, and people act like he was never there? I thought to myself. After all this, I decided to still play but I was much more cautious around him.

A few years had passed and I had gone from primary to secondary school. I hadn’t played with the boy for some time (because who play’s when they are in secondary school!). I don’t think I even saw him outside my house either, almost forgetting he existed because of his long absence. I needed to complete some homework for history and needed to collect some research on key events in the Victorian Era. The closest library was rundown and unpopular. People would go miles to go to a better, updated library; however, I didn’t have anyone to take me there so I had to make do with going to the closest one. I went to the archive section of the library and looked for anything that said Victorian or 19th to 20th century. Where is it? Where is it? Where is it!! I kicked the bookshelf in rage. Ouch! A book dropped. Should not have done that. The librarian came over, her face like a tomato in anger, “Excuse me is everything okay?”

“Erm… yes?” I replied

“Please do not kick the bookshelves thanks!” she retorted.

I hastily said before she left, “Sorry!” Phew. Never do that again.

I looked down at the book which fell and surprisingly it said ‘A Complete History of The Victorian Era’. I scraped it up from the floor and looked at the index in search of ‘Key Dates’. Page 249. As I flicked through the pages to 249, I thought I saw what might’ve looked like a much healthier, good looking version of the boy I used to play with. The two pages based on the boy looked like an extract off of a newspaper. It read ‘Boy aged 10 found deceased at a dwelling with body mutilated. Reports from police data show that even some organs were missing from the body. The fellow’s name was James whose parents were deeply shocked about the crime. This was seen as one of the most gruesome atrocities perpetrated against children…’

“Oh my God. It goes on and on! Wait, where was this crime committed… and above all of that, how is it possible that a boy I saw 5 years ago died a century or two ago?” I whispered, flustered and horror-struck by the passage in which I had read which swept over my sanity like a tsunami - completely mind blown. Yes. He was a ghost! I scanned for the address in which the crime scene was to explore and I found ‘432 Pendular Road, E12 4LJ’. On I set off on a trip which I may regret…

The sky was dark purple, almost getting nearer to the night, and it was stormy along with the wind roaring vigorously. The houses and area, in general, were deserted probably because they didn’t want themselves to be killed at the time. I heard myself wheezing whilst flying through the misty, gloomy and isolated neighbourhood and was arriving at a house which looked like the type of house a murder would take place in and, of course, matched the details which I had got from the book. The remote, gnarled trees seemed to drastically increase in length, looming above me; giving off vibes of being much more powerful than me. It felt like being on stage, the trees staring at me almost making me feel as if there were holes in the back of my head. No streetlights, not even a single soul… each step I took felt like a stab in the heart, my heart not wanting to risk my life whilst my mind which is too curious to find out what (or who) on earth I was playing with for a ⅓ of my life! It was a tug of war between logic and feelings. Upon confronting the house face to face from the outside, I hear a screech of a girl coming from within the house!

I stepped in front of the derelict house startled by what terrors I may confront inside. I was about to open the worn, faded, old-fashioned gate which had opened itself which sent a chill down my spine. I continued and reached the main door. The front porch was a filthy state, with bin bags which had been there for years, with rats darting out from the long weeds to the bags… some even coming from the house. I could smell the stench of maggots wriggling and turning within them urging me to gag. The wood-worm infested door, although it was secured, when pushing at the door with the slightest of strength; the door gave in and opened. As it swung, it’s hinges whined in a high tone almost ear-splitting. With that, I cautiously wandered through…

Once entering, sudden anxiety came over me, making me tense and my surroundings strange. The house stank of mould and made the air hard to breathe in, along with humidity. It’s barred windows made it more troublesome to see inside, obstructing the rays of the moonlight to pass through. Not being able to see what was around me felt like a right taken away, the ability to see made me feel lost, weak and inferior. I searched the house in haste looking for the supposed girl who had screamed in terror. Sooner or later, I found the girl hurt sitting against the wall of the living room. I tried asking her what had happened and had seemed to faint instead in my arms. In this dire moment, I thought I saw a flicker of steely eyes. But these weren’t of ordinary eyes. No. I’m not sure if it was my imagination again, but I thought I saw eyes without pupils! They were just cold, heartless, pale white eyes. The entity came out of the shadows and, to my flabbergast, was James (the boy)! “What do you want from me! Why did you come to play with me when I was younger!?” I shouted in mixed feelings, confused about whether to be angry or scared or polite to get answers out or to run away.

“I was lonely. I had no one. Everyone acted like I was not there! Now, I shall have revenge on everybody!” he said in a hoarse voice.

“W-well, your dead dammit!” I roared back, not knowing if this would anger him or stop him in his tracks.

“... I’m. Dead? HOW DARE YOU! HOW CAN YOU SAY SUCH A THING. I WILL END YOU!” he swooped in on me knocking me off my feet. I grunted. I think I just got a few injuries... Ow. I thought. To my luck, I found a large wooden plank nearby and tried to reach it helplessly. I boosted myself forward slightly, grabbed the plank, turned onto my back and swung the plank at James’ ghost fiercely. To my horror, I found that the plank had gone straight through his manifestation. This made James increase his hostility flipped a table onto me and the girl! Missing the table by a hair, I grabbed the girl on the floor (whose mouth was starting to foam for some peculiar reason) and rolled to the side as she was in the way too. Starting to fatigue, I clambered up from the floor and blasted through the door with the girl slung on my shoulder.

It felt like an eternity until I thought I was a good distance away from the house that I decided to stop. I gasped for breath, more than the average person would need to because of the added weight of someone on me, and attended to the girl. As I set her onto the floor carefully, I noticed that she seemed to still be foaming from her mouth and her skin was starting to lose its colour from a bright, lively red, to lifeless pale complexion. Abruptly, she the foam in her mouth started to overflow. Her head curled backwards, almost as if it were trying to snap off, and her toes simultaneously curled forward, wrapping around her feet. Her body became stiff and was trembling and was making choking sounds. Luckily I had my phone on me and hurriedly dialled in the number to call the ambulance (as well as not having to carry her for another 2 kilometres along with people giving me strange looks!). Forget about the girl, my BACK WAS KILLING ME! I fell onto the floor, nearly with a table to make things worse, and had to carry this random person. Soon, the ambulance came and they dispatched a policeman from the local police station to pick me up and drop me home. I will never forget what had happened on that day. And I will CERTAINLY NOT do anything daft like that. Off I went home and loved my parents more than ever, never to step out of line again.