The Boy Who Remembered

PROLOGUE

“Hi, I'm Tommy.

If you’re reading this, you’re probably standing somewhere in Willow Vale. If that’s true…

I’m sorry.

Because that means…

It’s happening again.

I don’t know your name.

I don’t know how old you are.

I don’t even know if I’m still alive.

But I know one thing.

You found this diary.

And that means you noticed something that you weren’t supposed to notice.

Maybe it was the way your dad looked at you.

Perhaps your mom forgot something she should never forget.

Maybe you heard strange noises outside your corridor at night. It doesn’t matter.

It always starts with something small.

I thought I was imagining things too.

I wasn’t.

If you’re a kid just like me, make sure no one sees you with this book, and whatever you do —

Don’t let them know you remember.

PLEASE“.

[ELI]

 The cornfields dance beneath the evening sun. In front of them stands a blonde-haired boy. 

Thirteen. 

Lean. 

He watches the cornstalks move and lets the wind fill his ears. For a minute he feels at peace.

“Eli” 

Yells his sister. Eight years of age, dark eyes. Dark hair.

”Ma said you should wash your 

hands, dinner’s almost ready”

“Coming!”

He fell into step beside her. The house smells like meatloaf. At the head of the table sits a man with brown hair beginning to turn white. Late 40s, reading a newspaper. 

Their mother walks over to the table with a tray of meatloaf in her hands. She has dark sleek hair and blue eyes. Late 30s.

“Did you find him by the cornfields again?” Betty asks.

“Yup” says Annie.

“Make sure you don’t get dirt on the floor,” Martin says, finally lowers his newspaper.

“Yes, sir” Eli replies

“How many times have I told you not to play near those fields?” He looks at Eli, the look sends chills through him.

“Martin let the boy be. Besides, he doesn’t go into the fields.” Betty turns to Eli and gives him a warm, reassuring smile. He smiles back.

“You know the mayor's daughter Sharon and Paul’s kid went missing in those fields; I don’t want him going in there and not being able to find his way out.” Martin responds.

A tall fellow with brown hair and hazel eyes walked in; he appears to be 17 and has the build of an athlete.

“That’s my pitcher.” Martin’s face lights up.

“How was training, son?” Betty asks.

“Pretty good, coach said I have raw talent and could play for a living.” Liam says.

The boy sits down next to Eli at the table; he sighs as he sees Annie who’s seated opposite him playing with her food. 

“Stop playing around,” he throws a napkin at her.

“Mommm,” Annie whines. Betty blatantly ignores her.

“So…” Betty says as she looks up at Eli.

Eli freezes. Whenever his mom starts a sentence with “so” it’s because he forgot something or he’s in trouble.

“You have your session with Dr. Hale tomorrow after school.”

“Oh.” Eli blinks at her. “Tomorrow?”

Betty looks at him. “You forgot again?”

“I guess…” Eli says skeptically.

Betty gives him a warm smile.

“That’s okay, Dr. Hale says forgetting little things is normal.”

“Yeah…” Eli replies; immediately, the air is pierced by the sharp crescendo of glass meeting the ground.

 “Sorry,” Annie says feeling remorseful.

 “Be careful, Annie.” Betty immediately stands up from her seat and walks over to Annie’s side to pick up the pieces of glass.

 Every muscle in Eli’s body coils tight, and his heart hammered against his ribs.

“Are you good?” Liam’s voice is faint. Then Liam grabs his shoulder.

“Eli, are you good?” 

Eli jerks and turns, “I’m alright.”

“You almost gave him a panic attack!” Liam snaps at Annie.

“I’m sorry,” Annie says,with remorse 

“It’s alright,” Eli smiles at her 

“I fear we’re going to be out of plates with the way Annie keeps breaking them.” Martin turns to Eli.

“I’ll come pick you up after your session. I’ll be done with work then.”

 “Thanks, sir.” Eli smiles at him.

 After dinner, Annie and Eli are on top of the bed under a blanket in Eli’s bedroom. His bedroom isn’t anything extraordinary, no posters of his favorite stars or movies; he only had one frame hung on the wall that wrote;

 I’d Rather Die In A Pool Of My Own Madness Than In A Pool Of Everyone Else’s

There were giggles from the siblings. They were both drawing in their sketchbooks.

“Why do you always draw creepy people?”  Annie asks Eli

“What makes you think they’re creepy?” Eli asks.

“I don’t know; they seem strange and give off creepy vibes.” Annie flips through her drawing book. 

“You should try drawing unicorns and stars instead.”

Eli scoffs, “Nah, that’s girl’s stuff.” He stares at his drawings closely.” I feel like I know them the creepy ones.

“But I can’t place where.” 

Eli's eyes wander. 

Fear falls on his face. 

His smile disappears. 

He whispers.

 “Annie.” 

Annie stares at him. “What?”

“They’re right here. Watch out!!” Annie screams. 

Eli holds his belly and laughs so hard.

“This is why your therapist is your only friend.” Annie says,angry

“I’m sorry.I couldn’t resist.” Eli wipes tears from his eyes.

“Kids, bedtime.“ Their mother’s voice comes from the hallway.

Annie gets up from Eli’s bed. “Goodnight, sleep tight.”

“Goodnight, Annie. Love you.” 

Eli watches her walk out and close his bedroom door. 

He places his book on the bedside drawer and tucks himself in for bed. 

He turns off his bedside lamp and whispers.

“Goodnight, everyone.” 

Eli closes his eyes and drifts into sleep. 

On the bedside table, one of his drawings slips off the pile. 

A faceless boy, drawn badly. The figures surrounding him carried tools. His form was broken in all the places they’d reached. The faceless boy’s T-shirt bores the word “Radiohead.” The letters cracked, the fabric gray from too much wear. 

The window exhales. 

The drawing slides under Eli’s bed.