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I don’t know exactly how I ended up following some strange boy. I remember all the facts, I remember my dad taking a shortcut on the way to my grandma’s house, I remember it suddenly snowing, then it quickly became a snow storm. I remember there being so much snow that my dad couldn’t see and he ran into a tree, and I remember my parents going off to look for help (since my dad hadn’t recharged his cell phone and we stranded in the middle of no where) and telling me and my eleven year old sister to wait in the car.
Of course, with me being sixteen, I also have memories of doing exactly the opposite and exploring the land, leaving my sister in the car complaining and threatening to tell mom and dad if I didn’t come back right that instant. I was going to too, I just wanted to get a look at the view without the metal of our car interfering. The snowy forest seemed to go on forever, covered in mountains and mountains of white. I walked on slowly until I came to a clear bubbling creek and then I noticed that the car and the street had disappeared completely.
I remember starting to walk back in the way I came from but I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw a boy who looked to be my age. We starred at each other for a moment, both observing the person before us. He had black hair that was short on one side of his head and long on the other side which was parted so that the longer hair dominated the shorter hair and one of his long bangs were red. He had on a black cloak, mittens with the finger’s cut out, a black and green scarf, and black pants. To top things off, he had dark red eyes. To say the least his look more then memorized me and I began to wonder just what he was thinking as he looked at me.
Nothing, apparently, as he got bored and began walking away, which leads me to where I am now, following him without any reason, unable to just give up and turn back to the car. So I remember how I GOT to being where I am, but I still can’t figure out why, and until I can do that I’m afraid I might not be able to turn back.
Through all the snow that’s falling it’s hard to see him. It’s piling up on my eyelashes, burying my feet as I step, and swirling in front of me building an almost transparent wall between me and him. I start calling out to him but my voice is nothing in comparison to the voice of the wind and not even I can hear myself.
Finally, he stops and looks at me some more. I start to walk closer, slowly, as I look into his emotionless face. He holds his hand in front of me, signaling me to stop, once I reach a few inches closer. He stares at me some more before he suddenly raises one of his feet and slams it down and the ground below him, which I notice to be ice. He shatters it and falls through, going down so quickly that he seems to disappear just as quick as he had appeared what I assume must have been twenty minutes ago.
I start screaming as I run over to the open ice, pressing my heels down to make a quick halt so I don’t fall in as well. The water is crystal clear and I can see the darkness of his hair and clothes becoming more and fainter. He doesn’t even seem to be trying to get back up. I panic, thinking maybe he can’t swim, and I stick my arm in the icy cold water, moving it back and forth frantically trying to grab onto his. I see my parents running over to me; they must have been close and heard me screaming.
I consider, for a brief moment, letting them decide what to do but as I look back down I see that he’s still going down and I fear that by that time it will be too late so I jump in after him, kicking my legs as hard as I can to catch up to his slowly sinking body. I look at his face and notice that his eyes are closed. My heart starts thumping and I begin to pray that he’s still alive as I wrap my arms around his torso and kick us both to the surface.
As soon as his head emerges from the cold water I hear him gasping for air. I drag his limp body up and lay him down next to me, taking note once again at how peculiar he looks. While I do this my dad (who has finally reached us) wraps his coat around my wet body and my mom does the same for the boy, who is still gasping and coughing and now violently shaking.
I start to pat his back but he slaps my hand away, throws off my mom’s jacket, and jumps to his feet. He frantically runs from us, you would think we wanted to murder him or something. He uses all his energy but my dad, who chased after him, tackled his weak and still shaking body to the ground. He then pinned him down while me and my mom ran to them and kept his grip tight until the boy seemed to have calmed down.
“Are you okay now?” My dad asks but he gets no answer, just a blank stare. “How old are you? Where are you parents?” He asks gently as he helps the boy sit up. Again, all he gets is a blank stare. We wait in silence, hoping he’ll finally give up and talk to us, and suddenly we see a flicker of emotion in his face. There’s deep depression in his eyes, something even he must have noticed because he turns his head so that half his face is hidden in his hair.
“Alright, get up then, we’ll take you home.” My father tells the boy after realizing that he may just be too traumatized about something to talk. I start to wonder if maybe he ran away from home. Maybe he won’t tell us anything about himself because he fears we’ll take him back, maybe that’s why he ran away from us and why he seems so worn out and pale.
The boy gets up and starts leading us across the ice, back the way I came from. This means that he does have a home; it’s just in the middle of no where. Once again I am left curious by his strange behavior. Maybe that’s just the way he is. I wouldn’t doubt it considering his hair and clothing. I begin to wonder if his parents are this strange too as we walk.
We walk for what seems like forever until we reach a huge vampire looking mansion. He stops on the front porch and waits for a moment before he finally speaks. “This is my house.” He says, his words sounding as emotionless as his face. We all wait, not getting his hint, before he finally says “goodbye”.
“Wait a moment; I want to speak to your parents. You don’t seem too well; I think they should know about this.” My dad tells him as me and my mother say silent goodbyes to each other. She’s going back to the car to check on my little sister but I told her that I was going to stay with dad and catch up with her. I’m still very captivated by this strange young man.
“No you don’t.” He says, his voice so flat that it sounds almost like a robots and sends chills down my spine. “I’m alri-“ he starts to say but in the middle of the word “alright” his eyes roll to the back of his head and he falls backwards. I run over to him and I place his head against my chest, wrapping my arms around him and trying to warm him up. He’s so cold at this moment that his lips are blue and the small breaths coming out of his mouth are appearing in fog before my eyes, the only indicator that he’s still alive. Also, I notice that while he is passed out his emotionless expression is replaced of one of depression and worry.
My dad opens the front door. “It’s unlocked,” he tells me, “bring him in before he freezes to death.” I do as told. I put one of the boy’s arms over my shoulder and I half drag him in his house. It’s so big inside that our voices echo and I feel like a little doll. It also looks un-lived in. there is barely any sunlight causing the room to look blue and nothing is out of its place.
I set the boy down on the couch and I drape the tightly knitted blanket that I find hanging on the back of an old rocking chair over his body. To my surprise, it’s actually pretty warm in here. I see a fire dancing around in the fireplace, somebody must be home. If not he wouldn’t have left his house before putting it out, unless, of course, he didn’t care if his house went up in flames.
“Hello?” my dad calls as he starts climbing up the twisted staircase. I only follow him halfway up so that I could still keep an eye on the boy. All the doors on the second floor are closed and only one has light shining through the crease at the bottom. My dad knocks on the door, again repeating his hello.
The boy on the couch starts moving until the depression is wiped off of his face and he sits up. He sees me on the stairs and hears my dad calling out for someone and he starts to look a slight upset again. He starts to get up but falls to the ground. At the same moment my father opens the door and gasps. I look up too and I notice that lying in the bed is a powdery corpse of an old man.
“I,” the boy starts before he starts gasping for more air. At this point he’s on the ground on his knees and palms. His arms are shaking and his hair is covering his face so I can’t even begin to wonder what’s going through his mind. “I…didn’t kill him.” He finishes as he digs his fingers into the carpet. My dad walks over to him and pats his back.
“No, you didn’t. He was sick, wasn’t he?” My dad asks him, once again getting no response just like our first encounter with the boy. I look up the stairs. There are many machines hooked up the corpse. There’s even an IV. I begin to feel pity for the boy; he probably had just walked in on his dead grandpa or whatever the man was to him and blanked out.
“I’m not trying to make things difficult for you, okay?” my dad assures the young man. “We want to help though; you’re half dead right now, so please cooperate. First I want to know your name, what is it?” my dad asks and the boy finally lifts his head and tilts his head. He gets a half barraged half confused look on his face, like he would be asking “what business is it to you and who asked you to help me?” if he would only talk.
“Adrian.” He finally says as I walk down the stairs and sit next to him and my father. I look at Adrian. He looks frail and starving and I can tell he has been working his body past its limits. He doesn’t take good care of himself at all; I’m surprised that he didn’t immediately die when he fell in the pond considering the condition his body was already in.
“Adrian do you have any other adults here to take care of you or was that man the only one? Was he your father?” My dad asks. Adrian looks at the door as if he’s considering whether or not he wants to try running again. I start to get scared that if he does he’ll die out there so I grab his hand and hold onto it. A tingle runs down my spine from the icy-ness of his flesh and I space out for a moment.
This is something that has never happened to me. I start daydreaming, only not. I see what happened earlier, before Adrian fell through the ice, but it’s a lot clearer, this time I don’t have to look through snow and wind to see him. Now that my vision of what happened is clearer I can see that he crashed his boot against the ice more then once; he intentionally broke it. Adrian had meant to kill himself.
I come back from my little vision and find myself back in the room. Adrian is still looking at the door. Finally he looks at the floor in front of him and nods. My father asks him which question he is saying yes too and Adrian freezes for a moment before he answers.
“He was my father but I still have a mother. I’ll tell her that I fell today. Goodbye.” He says, starring blankly at the floor. I can’t tell whether what he just said doesn’t sound right because of how blank he sounded or because it wasn’t. I look to my father, flashing him my concern.
“No, we’ll wait with you until she gets back. I want to make sure nothing happens to you in that time.” My dad says and we wait for about five minutes before Adrian clenches both his fists. He’s starting to get annoyed, my father doesn’t get that he doesn’t want saving, especially since he was the one who harmed himself.
“She’s not coming. She doesn’t exist. Please leave me alone.” Adrian said as he stood up and took his cloak off, hanging it in the closet. Under the cloak he has on a leather shirt with straps running all over it. It looks like a gothic version of a straight jacket.
“Adrian, you need to take this seriously and not lie to me. I bet the cops don’t even know your father is dead, we need to tell them so they can give him a proper burial and so they can get you in an actual household, one that will care for you.” My dad explains but is cut off by a very angry boy.
“Leave me the hell alone already! Don’t ask me another damn question and don’t even fucking think of putting me in some goddamn foster home! LEAVE!” Adrian shouts, finally showing emotion in his voice. So much actually, that I am taken back and shocked. My mouth hangs open as my dad says something, probably pleading with him to calm down but I’m far too shocked to listen.
“I said leave! If you don’t I’ll…I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll” he starts before he faints again.
They finally come and I show them in. they start talking to my dad and I glance over at the couch. Adrian isn’t there. I hear crashes from upstairs and so I follow them. My dad doesn’t stop me because he’s busy explaining to the cops who are telling him that they didn’t even know that this mansion existed, they have no records of it and they doubt they have any on Adrian.
I find a second door with a light on now. I remove the chair my dad put in front of it to keep it locked and I open it to reveal what I suspect to be Adrian’s room, if you could call it that. All that it’s got in it is an old oak desk, a bed decked in black, black curtains, and black carpet and walls.
Adrian is sitting against the desk panting and holding one of his hands in the other. He has blood dripping down his arms from his bleeding knuckles and I assume he’s been trying desperately to get out since my dad put him in here. I sit next to him, leaving the door open. He won’t escape now, it’s too late. Now the house is filled with too many cops.
“Are you okay?” I ask as I grab one of his knuckles to examine how much skin was worn off. When I move his arm he groans in pain and I am able to see the kitchen knife that he has plunged in his torso.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writting it, more to come shortly hopefully