This is just something I thought up early this morning, around 2 AM. Decided to write it down and proofread it. I'm thinking about it as my step back into writing supernatural stuff. Hope you enjoy!


I put my wet clothes in the woven basket and walk through my basement to the wooden stairs that lead into the kitchen. It's hot outside, and I've taken to just wearing my bra and a summery, light skirt on days like this. The stairs creak under my steps, and when I step my bare feet onto the faded yellow tiles of my kitchen, I'm thankful for how cool they are. My door is already propped open, and when I step outside, I nearly drop my basket into the dirt.

There is a boy, laying out in my field. I see him because the crops died long ago, and there's nothing blocking his small body from my vision.

"Hello?" I call. He doesn't move.

I flash back to the accident. Seeing my little boy, unmoving, un-breathing, on that hospital bed. I get choked up, but I swallow it back as I jog over to him, not caring about the grass and little rocks I'm stepping on. I kneel down next to him. He has on a plain white t-shirt and white khaki shorts. His hair is a tightly cut afro, and his face is a deep brown, the same as mine. I nudge him, and he blinks his brown eyes open.

"Hi, sweetie. Are you lost?" I ask. I smile, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

He blinks again. "No."

From his high-pitched voice and his round face, I can tell that he can't be much older than eleven. But if he's not lost, what is he doing here? I've never seen him before, and he definitely doesn't live in my field.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Gabriel."

"Gabriel. That's a nice name." I lower myself all the way onto the ground, sitting next to him instead of hovering over on my knees. "Where are you from, Gabriel?"

He rips his head to the side, facing me, and I put my hand out onto his chest.

"Are you okay?"

"It hurts my eyes!"

"What? What hurts your eyes?"

He points up at the sky, but doesn't look. "That. The big yellow."

I let a small laugh out. "That's the Sun, Gabriel."

He blinks and looks at me, but he doesn't respond. I have to repeat myself.

"Where did you come from, Gabriel?"

He sits up, using my thigh to push himself upright.

"Home."

"Where is home?"

He points at my house, and I shudder. This is extremely odd, and although I should be afraid, and cautious about taking a strange boy into my home, I can't just leave him out here. It's the middle of summer in South Carolina, and God knows a little black boy shouldn't be out here wandering around with a lost look in his eyes. I'll take him in for the time being, and call Child Services when the time is right.

"Are you hungry, Gabriel?"

He nods, and I smile as I stand up.

"Let's get you inside. I'm about to start lunch."