The Boy Next Door

Chapter Three

Beep! Beep! Beep... I open my eyes and look around. I don't see my hay bed, tire pile, cement block perch, or my lovely window. This room is white and bare except for a small circle table in the corner with dead flowers on the surface, a white curtain circling my white bed that is sort of elevated, and a strange machine that keeps making an annoying beeping sound. I try to sit up but feel a sharp stinging pain and quickly lay back down. I look down at my arms, there are strings hanging out of them, no, they're tubes. Where am I?! I feel so alone, more alone than ever. I can't breathe! I start to breathe harder, the air around me thinning.

"Uh! Guh!" I can't speak so I grunt as loud as I can. "GUH!"

A woman in a white lab coat and a worried expression on her face came to my side. "Are you okay sweetie? What's wrong?"

What's wrong? What's wrong?! I have tubes in my arms, I don't know where I am, I feel alone, and I'm scared Mother will come back. I want to say all of that, but I can't because I don't have a tongue. I grunt and point to the tubes. She gave me a questioning look. I grunt louder and point again. She finally got it.

"That's medicine going into your body. It doesn't hurt, buddy?" I shake my head. "You were banged up pretty bad. What happened?"

Doesn't this lady understand I can't speak. "It's okay, you can talk to me." I should've slapped her for that remark. She should've inspected me when she brought me to this awful place. She should've known I don't have the ability to speak anymore. I don't know her and I'm not willing to try to get to know her.

She reached her hand toward me, I flinch. The woman pulls back with a worried face. "Sorry, I just wanted to comfort you. You seem hurt." Isn't that obvious?! "My name is Dr. Wilstone. What is your name?"

A name, what is that? What is a name? Isn't that what you call each other? I don't have one. Would Runt my name or Brat or Worthless? I don't have a name, I have many names. I grunt a response.

"Sweetie, you're going to have to use words. I don't understand grunts." I didn't want it to come to this, but it has got to. I open my mouth and show her my sloppily cut out tongue. Her gasp was followed by a hand running through her golden hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'll be right back, stay here." As if I can go anywhere.

Dr. Wilstone hurried to the door and slammed it behind her. I couldn't see the door from where I am, but I know there aren't any stairs. I didn't hear the creak of rotting wood. I look around again. Nothing has changed like a dream would. So this isn't a dream. This is real. I left my mother. Will she come back? What will happen now? How will I escape from here? Can I even escape? I hurt too much to try and lift my head again. Instead I make a plan. Once I'm well and able to walk again, I'll take the first chance I get to leave and run away... Where will I run? I've never been outside of the house. The closest I've gotten to outside was sticking my arm out of the big crack in the window and grabbing close rocks and some lost books. The only "fresh" air I've breathed was from the crack in the window. That window was my life, now I can't find it. Sure, it's very bright in here, but I can't find a single window. Where are the trees I saw from my basement? Where are the unseen screaming children? Where is this place?

When Mother finds me, she'll be so angry she might just kill me. I'll hide and get well enough until I can escape. I look toward the beeping machine and glare at it. What is its purpose? Why is it here? Who is it talking to, not me obviously. I listened closely. There are other beeps in the room. I guess it's talking to its friends. At least it has friends. Even a machine can make friends faster than me. That is sad.

The lady returned with a bag of round things. "This is called candy. Here try some."

Lady, I can't speak, that doesn't mean I'm stupid. I grab the bag and look inside. There are tons of little round brightly colored balls.

"They are called Sixlets. It's just chocolate."

Why is it named after a number? What is chocolate? Why is she still talking to me like I'm retarded?! I shake my head and give her the bag.
She takes one out and reaches into her lab coat pocket. She pulls out a knife, in which I flinch from, and cuts open the Sixlet. "See, just chocolate." To prove her point she pops one half into her mouth and smiles as she chews. Now she looks like an idiot. Dr. Wilstone tries to hand me the other half now. I shy away from it and shake my head. I don't know where she got it or why she insists I eat it.
Dr. Wilstone still shoves the little candy in my face while giving a smile and a too excited nod. I just shake my head and close my eyes. Finally after a while she leaves with a huff.

I open my eyes and look at my body again. My chest isn't sagging in as bad, my arms and legs are set even though they are hidden by a white cloth wrapped around them, and my bed still isn't straw, so it seems. I miss my straw bed and basement room. It was dark, musty, and wet but it was my cave. The only thing that actually belonged to me. My straw bed is mine because I pulled the straw in from out of the window. I remember because I was three and tired of laying on the cold floor with bugs and nasty waste. My waste.

I just hate the idea of it being taken away. No the basement wasn't really mine, but still. It was home. More of a home than Upstairs ever showed me. I want to get my straw bed back and my blanket. I love that rotting, old, worn blanket. Its once colorful thread is now a worn mix of grey and light brown. Its once soft stuffing is now flattened and scratchy, but I don't care. It's mine too, I pulled it into the basement through the window. I had used it, I had loved it and worn it down even more.

When I escape from here, I'll go and get the straw and the blanket. I can't even begin to think what life will be like without them...

Ugh, I fell asleep again. Bang! What the?! I look around and see a figure in the dark room. This can't be happening again. Whatever it is, I don't wanna see.

Of course the figure comes toward me anyways despite my silent warnings. I growl and bare my rotting orange-yellow teeth. It seems to back away a bit, then with no warning it jumps on my bed. I grunt a protest and whimper as it starts to take off its' hood. Mother! No. This can't be! No! The evil beast raises her hand and back-hands me. I think a tooth came loose. I spit to the side and sure enough a tooth flew free making a small plink on the white floor. Ma raises her hand again, this time in a fist and punches my skull. I see lights in the dark room. Her fist comes dow