James sat upright in his bed, panting heavily and sweating. He looked around the room and saw no one, though just a few minutes ago there was a young boy, maybe about seven, running about his room. He stared at the clock to clear his mind. It was eight and he had to head to Cornell that day for his psychology class. It was the first day back after his grandmother had died. All his life he lived with his grandparents, he can't even remember when his parents died. Several years back his grandfather died but that was before he got his scholarship into Cornell. James got up and went to brush his teeth, his bathroom only a few feet away in his New York apartment. As he flicked on the bathroom light he stared at himself in the mirror. He still looked terrible as he brushed his teeth and stepped in the shower. He threw his clothes over the top and turned on the cool water. He sighed as the hot water wouldn't turn on, and he took a rushed shower. He threw on a t shirt and hoodie, then slipped on his jeans. As he exited the apartment he locked the door, turning away and removing his key. He knew he looked and felt terrible, but he no longer cared anymore. He walked down his three flights of stairs and stepped onto the busy street. He needed to go left down into the subway to get to ithaca in time, but he didn't feel like dealing with the people. He pulled out his mobile and hailed a cab, staring at the news on his small screen. He entered the taxi, and nearly caught his foot in the door as he entered, being distracted by a story of a missing five year old boy, the boy had a bright smile and bright blonde hair. Just like the boy that was in his room.
James walked up the large campus and sighed heavily. He was at least an hour late, taking a detour to get a drink at the bar. He still didn't believe what he had seen. He knew he was just going crazy, he couldn't have seen the boy in his room, he was missing. It's not like some missing kid came into his room while he was asleep. All his thoughts screamed inside his head as he hit the unopened door to his classroom. He heard laughter from inside as he opened the door and sat in the seat.
"Mr. James Mosby, did I smell alcohol on your breath as you came in? You're only twenty three, you shouldn't have an alcohol problem at your age. Especially a talented psychology student such as yourself." His professor turned away and continued his writing on the board.
James slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. There was a slight buzzing in his head. It was almost pleasant until the professor started talking again. His eyes got blurry and he couldn't see, his head throbbing he searched for his backpack, realizing he left it at home. He excused himself and found the nearest water fountain. He took a long drink and turned around. As he was walking down the hall, he was startled to hear the little boys giggle. He whipped around to see a group of girls giggling. He was just getting paranoid as he turned around and saw the boy. The small boy was standing at the end of the hall screaming for help. He shook his head and the boy was gone. James fell against the wall and slid down it. What was going on around him? He sighed and found the front of the building, exiting the campus and holding his head. He found the subway and took it home, wobbling up the stairs to his apartment. He dropped onto his black wrinkled couch and closed his eyes. James took a moment to turn on the news, closing his eyes once again. ever since he was young he could not sleep without a radio or television. This was also one thing he's been trying to find the answer to through phycology. He was drifting off to sleep when he heard crying. Opening his eyes slowly he saw the boy sitting in front of the tv, staring at a picture of himself. The headline read, "Young Five Year Old Found Murdered." James stared and reached out to the boy, but his arms wouldn't move. He couldn't even move a finger as he saw the boy turn around. He had no eyes.
James sat frozen in terror as the boy ran away screaming. When he finally lifted his arm to his head, any sign of the boy was gone. He didn't understand what had just happened, as he sat up and shakily walked to the kitchen. He turned on the tap and stuck his mouth under it, letting the cool water slide down his throat. He slipped down the counter and shut off the tap. He ran to his phone and picked it up. He stared blankly at the screen as he realized he had no one to call. He shook his head and stared blankly at the screen. The light flicked off and the phone relocked itself, and he sat down dropping the phone to his side. As he rubbed his temples and stared at the tv, he picked up the remote and flicked it to his favorite show. Reruns of Law & Order played on screen while he closed his eyes. He laid down and kicked his phone off the couch, falling asleep with a hand on his head.
