Coma [YiZhan FanFiction] ✔️

Chapter 1 - Who am I?

Chapter 1 - Who am I?

The little boy, just five years old, is lying on the lawn, looking through the leaves of the huge oak tree above him at the cloudless azure sky. Around him, the children from his group are playing. They laugh loudly, they jump, sing and romp around. But he only hears this sound.

Every day at free playtime in the playground of his kindergarten, when he was lying on the ground, in the grass and far away from the others, so that they cannot see his tears. He always heard this sound at the same time. That, as his kindergarten teacher said, came from a twin-engine airplane.

He had never seen it, no matter how hard he tried. He could only hear it all the time and at some point it became a sound that reminded him of his loneliness. Of his small and heavy heart.

I wish you would land here and take me with you. Anywhere. Just out of here. He thought sadly as he looked at the other children in his age with tears in his eyes.

He'd have loved to have friends, he'd have settled for one. But he had no friend. Nobody wanted to have anything to do with him. No one spoke to him, no one looked at him, no one ever chose him for their team when they had sports. It was like he didn't exist.

And it wasn't even his fault. What was his fault that people hated his parents for their work? He didn't even understand what debt collectors from a bank meant. Or repossessions, auctions. He was too young to understand what his parents did.

And yet many parents whose children went to the same kindergarten as him, after hearing about his parents' work, told them not to talk to him. Not to play with him. Just ignore him, because his family is evil.

I am not evil, I am a good boy. Then why doesn't anybody like me? Why am I always alone? He kept asking himself.

When the kindergarten teacher yelled at him a few days ago and told him not to talk to her, he burst into tears, but there was no one to comfort him. No one to hold him. And he just asked if he could paint a little.

But he was not only unwanted in kindergarten, where he was twelve hours a day. It wasn't easy for him with his parents either. No sooner had they picked him up than he was told he had to go to his room and practice reading and writing. They set an alarm clock for him. When it rang, he had to take a shower and then go to bed. No good night, nothing.

Even on the weekends his parents didn't want to have anything to do with him. So they looked for a nanny who would look after him on the weekends as well. Which didn't mean that she would be involved with him.

She took him out into the garden, gave him his exercise books and a pen, not toys. He ate his meals alone in the garden. He was only allowed to enter the house when he needed to go to the toilet.

And when it came to his parents being really stupid, the kindergarten having holidays or the nanny having other plans. Then he was at home in his room. Sometimes he'd play a little bit. But since he was a bit too loud once and got spanked by his father, he rarely did that anymore.

It was not unusual for his parents to slip their hand. And every time this happened, he lay in his room crying, he held his teddy in his arms and cried until he fell asleep.

Sometimes he stared at his backpack for the kindergarten and imagined how he packed a pair of pantyhose, underpants, jeans and a sweater, took his teddy and just ran away. He was sure that his parents wouldn't have looked for him.

Today was another one of those days when he lay on the grass and looked up at the sky. Not a cloud in sight. He saw that the leaves of the oak tree were slowly changing color. Only little of their green was left, they became red, yellow and brown. Some of the leaves had already fallen down and the other children were playing with them.

But even today the loud rustling of the leaves could not drown out this loud engine noise. That strange humming in the sky from somewhere far above him. Hot tears rolled down his temples as he wished someone would come and take him away from here.

"Group 2b come in, eat!" Called the kindergarten teacher and all the children rushed past him screaming loudly.

The little boy lay further on the lawn and screamed inside as loud as he could. He sat up and saw the kindergarten teacher looking at him and locking the door. It was not the first time she had done this. A few times he had told his parents about it but they did not care, so he said nothing more.

He usually just stayed outside and waited for the kindergarten teacher to let him in, of course not until all the food was gone. But not today. Today it had been different. Because today he had taken his backpack outside. Besides his teddy bear he had a bottle of water, two cereal bars and a change of clothes.

He took his backpack and ran for it. He was sure that nobody would follow him, but in case somebody was interested, he ran so fast that he could carry it into his little legs. Down from the kindergarten grounds, the footpath to the left and straight towards the big old forest.

Once, while walking with his group, he saw an old house there, very lonely and deserted it stood there. It looked as lonely as he felt.

Running, stumbling and running on. The little boy did not know how long he was running, but at some point he found the house. It stood there, just like in his memory. Lonely, empty, deserted and dark.

The little boy went to the house, he pushed the door, which had been left a little open, further open and slipped through the gap. Carefully he moved through the rooms. It was cold and dark.

Just what I deserved, right? They all say I am evil and that I should be ashamed to live in a nice warm house when others lose everything they have. He thought and entered the wooden stairs that creaked under every step he took.

He reached the upper floor and looked at the four rooms that were there. One was once a bathroom. The others were apparently bedrooms and children's rooms. Everything had been cleared out. Except in this one room, there was an old rusty iron chair with no seat and a rotten mattress lying on the floor.

The paint on the walls had long since flaked off and lay on the floor next to rubbish and dirt. The window panes were missing. The window frames were covered with cracks.

The little boy sat down on the rusty chair in front of the window. Dark grey clouds had appeared. The wind freshened and the little boy began to freeze. I'll get through this, I' ll freeze to death here in this old house, rather than go home where no one wants me anyway. He thought and saw the first raindrops fall.

Who am I? Now that I've run away, I need a new name. But what name can I give myself? he asked himself tired before he fell asleep on that rusty chair with his teddy bear in his arms.

Who could this little boy be? Are his parents really not gonna look for him? How long will he hide in that rundown, abandoned house?