The Boy
Michael awoke to a soft thump, he thought about the burglaries that had been happening lately, but another thump followed soon after. Pulling the covers off, he made his way to the window, his feet making little slaps as he walked across the quiet room. The wind whistled through the open window, “Odd,” he thought, “I remember closing this before bed.”
Quietly closing the window he went back to bed, keeping an eye on the peculiar window. He awoke not five minutes later to yet another thump, he quickly made his way to the window. Pulling aside the curtain, he gasped as he saw the grim face of a boy not older than Wendy. He studied the black-haired boy.
“Well that’s just wholesome,” the teen said, rolling his eyes at the small boy.
Micheal jumped at the raspy voice, “You’ve got a different accent, say are you from America?” his voice muffled.
“Yeah,” was all he said. Micheal saw something odd in his eyes, almost… wild.
“Well, why are you here?” he looked at him puzzled. The teen tapped the window and motioned for him to come out onto the roof while ruffling his hair.
Later, Michael decided to tell John about the boy, but he didn’t know how to tell his brother that he’d made a friend that came to his window at night. So, he’d called the dark teen a “shadow” so John would be too scared to stay up and see.
“Are you sure?” John asked surprised, his eyes puffy with sleep. Michael nodded.
By then Wendy had woken up, “Get to bed, the both of you. I won’t cover your chores while you sleep in again,” she sighed groggily, she hadn’t a clue what they were on about and she was too tired to care.
