Story of a Boy

[AUTHORS NOTE: This was a short story I wrote in class. We were given the first two paragraphs and had to continue the story in half an hour. I don't know who wrote the first two paragraphs (Whether or not it was my teacher, I don't know) but the rest is mine, and the plot is mine. With that said, I hope you enjoy the story :D]

Story of a Boy

Liam jumped out of the train as soon as the doors would open. It was a Friday evening in the middle of May and normally he would be at school over the weekend. Today, though, they'd granted him an exeat, special permission to leave early and head for home. His father was back from his travels, and Liam and his parents were going to spend the weekend together.

Liam left the station with his bag over his shoulder and crossed onto Riverside Road. A few minutes later he was on New Chapel Road, which cut across one corner of the Heath. Almost home.

As he rounded the corner, his footsteps sped up to match the beat of his favourite song, which was currently playing through his headphones. As Liam walked down the pavement a smile spread across his face; he couldn't wait to finally be home after the long train ride, and see his parents after all this time.

Liam could almost see his house now, all he had to do was cross the street and turn another corner. He took one step off the pavement, then another, and then two more bringing him to the middle of the road. It was at this moment that he spotted the car speeding right towards him. He quickly hopped forwards, narrowly missing the bumper of the car. He felt the air move as the car skidded past, screeching to a stop. Liam ran, not wanting to confront the angry driver.

He slowed down as his parent’s house came into sight, and Liam began routing through his bag for the keys. As his hand brushed past the cold metal, Liam's thoughts were pushed in another direction. There was his parent’s house, but the door was open wide.

Liam looked around, expecting to see his parents waiting for him, or loading the car. But they weren't there, and neither was the car. A knot was beginning to form in his chest. "Mum? Dad?" Liam yelled, panic escaping into his voice. He hadn't noticed that his feet had been glued to the floor, but now they had broken free and were sprinting in the direction of the house.

He found himself in the hallway, searching for anything that would give him a clue as to his parent’s whereabouts. But whatever it was he was looking for, he hadn't found it. The hallway looked exactly the same as it had when he had last been there. Nothing had changed. He searched the house from top to bottom, but it only confirmed what Liam already knew. No-one was home.

Full of frustration and worry, he ran back into the street. His eyes searched the space around him, still hoping to find something, anything, that would help him make sense of this mess. Everything was silent, except faint voices in the distance, so quiet it sounded like they were whispering. It was too quiet for Liam to hear what was being said. He decided to find the voices owners, to see if they knew what was going on.

As he began cautiously walking back up the street, he noticed that his next-door neighbour’s car was missing too. Liam found this unusual, as Mr Smith rarely left the house. He suddenly found himself walking faster.

After a few minutes, Liam found himself retracing his steps from his journey to the house. He didn't know why he had chosen to walk back this way, but the voices were getting louder, so he must be on the right track. Liam could now make out a few words, but it still didn't make any sense. Three words stuck out in his mind, though. "Help," they said, "Wake up," they said. For the first time, he began to question the voices. How had he heard them from so far away in the first place?

Up until now, the road had been pretty quiet; he couldn't remember seeing any cars driving by. But now a queue was beginning to form. Something was definitely wrong. He found himself running once again, heading towards the front of the queue. With every step he took, the voices grew louder, and louder, until they were almost shouting.

Liam skidded to a stop, the voices screeching. He bent down, clutching at his head. And it all stopped . . .

"Liam," It was his mother's voice. "Liam, please wake up." His head shot up again, and his eyes focused on the crowd of people stood before him. "He needs help!" His father. Ten minutes ago, Liam wanted nothing more than to hear his father’s voice, but now he wanted nothing more than to forget everything he was hearing. He took one step off the pavement, then another, and then two more, bringing him to the middle of the road. It was at this moment that he spotted his mother and father through the crowd, crouching down on the ground, a meter or two away from a car, a familiar car. It was the same car from earlier. His stomach clenched as he dragged his eyes to the floor, terrified of what he knew he would see, as impossible as it seemed. Time seemed to stop for one final time, as he stared at himself, Liam, lying in a pool of blood, his skin pale. He watched himself lay there for what felt like hours, his eyes open but unmoving. He watched the ambulance arrive, but he knew it was too late.

THE END . . . ?