Thanks for reading, I appreciate it! :3 And sorry about this being a day late, but here's part two! Enjoy~
Pt2***
Jack, or that is what they called him anyway since they hadn’t learned his real name nor did he remember it himself, was sitting on the front porch watching the leaves roll by in the wind. Occasionally some kid, coming home from school probably, might pass by on the sidewalk about thirty feet from where he sat, but none bothered to even glance at him as they continued on with their dreary lives. As for Jack and his connection with school, he didn’t have any at the moment. The elderly woman, her name is Dorothy, hadn’t enrolled the boy in any kind of school yet. Not because she didn’t want him in school or he didn’t want to be in it either, but because she had tried putting him in schools for the past seven years but every time he attended one school, three months later something would happen and he would be expelled.
The town didn’t have that many schools and so it was getting harder and harder to find a school that would accept him, especially because of his previous expulsion record. Dorothy was recently considering the possibility of homeschooling Jack. Jack didn’t really care if he went to school or did it at home, he didn’t even care about an education for that matter, because he seemed to already develop the necessary information as he aged. It was weird, but for some reason as he got older he seemed to know things. Dorothy discovered this almost two years after she found him, so she tested him on some things like math and English. For four years she gave him a test according to his age level and every year he passed even though he had hardly learned anything in school, or even at home.
At home he couldn’t have learned much via internet and television because they didn’t have one. The only source of information they had were Dorothy’s husband’s books which she decided to keep after he died. Although Jack didn’t have too much knowledge at his fingertips with that even, so it was odd he knew so much. The library was out of the question because Jack never left the house.
As Jack sat on the porch he watched the place where he had come from, that part on the street in front of the house where Dorothy had found him. Dorothy shared with Jack all that she knew of the event, she didn’t hide anything, so Jack didn’t suspect her of excluding any details as to what might have caused his appearance, which made him wonder how he got there. Dorothy had noticed him in the street when she came out, and she saw no one else anywhere near the area. There were no signs of anyone being there either; it was like Jack had appeared out of nowhere.
They both considered that he had been dropped off by someone to die, but he had no wounds when he was found. Although he was found with nothing on him, he could not have been left for dead. No one would have left him in the middle of a neighborhood anyway.
Dorothy had asked the neighbors on the block if they had seen anything or knew anything about Jack’s appearance, but none of them saw any event that day or knew anything about Jack except what she told them. So it was a mystery left for the two of them to solve, although they didn’t know how to solve it.
While Jack was thinking he suddenly felt the urge to get up and leave. Jack stood up and opened the front door, and called inside, “I’m going to take a walk.” Then he took off on his walk.
Dorothy, who had heard from the next room, was puzzled by his sudden want to take a walk. He never wanted to go anywhere, not even the park nearby, and even though it was just a walk he didn’t even like to go out for walks. The farthest he got from the house, aside from when he had gone to school a couple times, was on the front porch. Never had she seen him go anywhere else. But perhaps this was a good thing, for him to get out more and explore. So Dorothy relaxed and continued to read her book which she had probably read twice before in her youth.
Jack didn’t know why he wanted to walk, he just felt like walking. Perhaps sitting on the porch was getting boring? All he did was sit there for nine months of the year after he got expelled from a school seven times. Jack had read all the books they had in the house so there was nothing left to do, he just wanted to sit out there and watch the spot he had appeared at.
What was to attracting about that spot? He did wonder about how he got here and all, but there must be more elements to his coming here than that spot on the road. He must have been somewhere else in town before that, or somewhere else in the world where had had lived before. Why couldn’t he remember?
This is what he wondered every day of his life, and never did he find an answer. He had read the books that they had in the house, hoping to find an answer, but nothing appeared, not even a remotely close answer to his questions. So maybe he had to finally resort to going to the library, perhaps that’s why he wanted to take a walk, because that was where he was headed now. If he did end up at the library he could read all the books they had too, and maybe he might find an answer. They had a big library in town, there must be something there.
The library was not where Jack found himself when he decided to stop. He found himself at the park. The park he’d never been to. It was an empty park today, not like the parks he’d heard Dorothy ask him about wanting to go to. The swings were left still, the seesaw was covered in a few leaves and left untouched, and the jungle gym didn’t even have any remnants of children playing in the last few hours.
The playground was empty, and the leafy field of the park was also empty, not even a few kids playing with their dog. Jack went over to a park bench and sat down, watching the empty playground.
Even with the day turning into evening as the sun began to leave a more orange glow on the earth, Jack didn’t get up to go home. He was waiting for something, although he didn’t know what, he wanted to wait. Time passed as he sat and it was now probably dinner time at home and Dorothy might get worried about him, however Jack wanted to wait a few more minutes.
Soon it seemed like his waiting paid off when he saw a young boy walking along the side walk with his school backpack on. The young boy, probably only ten years old, looked over to the playground and smiled. He glanced at his left wrist and then back at the playground, then decided to come skipping over and hop onto one of the swings.
Jack saw the boy but didn’t move. He felt that this boy was the reason he had been waiting here, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to do next. He didn’t feel any urges, not even to walk up to the boy and say hi. He just watched.
The happy little boy got bored of the swing after a few minutes and headed over to the slide. It wobbled a little when he climbed to the top, but that was because it was probably as old as this town. He slid down with a look of glee on his face, and then went back up to do it again. Then he rushed over to the jungle gym and started climbing all around it and then up to the top. He stood on top and shouted, “I am the king of the world!” The winds began to pick up and the little boy wobbled a little. Jack wasn’t worried.
Then the boy crouched down and began his decent. It was a bit darker now than when the boy had decided to play, and Jack could feel the boy’s fear grow within. Someone’s dog gave a howl, and Jack saw the boy look around him. Then the boy began descending faster until he lost his footing on one of the bars and tumbled down to the ground. Jack did not go to the boy, but waited.
The little boy got up and brushed himself off, ignoring any pain for there was no one to cry to who would come to him. Then he went over to his school bag and picked it up, and started running home. As he ran through the playground the winds got harder and Jack could hear a squeaking in the playground, then a sound like breaking. Soon enough as the boy ran passed the slide it tumbled down on top of him.
Jack watched but didn’t move. Was the boy dead? The boy didn’t rise from where he was, but after some careful listening Jack could hear a quiet moaning. Jack went over to the boy and knelt down beside him. The little boy noticed him, and reached out his hand to Jack.
“Please… Help me…”
Jack took the boy’s hand and pulled him from underneath the slide. It was quite easy to do so, and then there stood the boy with his school pack smiling at Jack.
“Thank you, but where do I go now?” The boy asked.
“Go home, like you were going to do before you got crushed.”
“Alright, I will then. Thank you.”
The boy began walking back in the direction of his home, not at all scared of the nightly sounds and the monsters that crept in the dark. After the boy disappeared out of sigh Jack looked back at the slide. There lay the boy’s body underneath the slide, the blood forming a pool in the leaves.
For a moment Jack thought he was hallucinating and he rubbed his eyes to wipe away the illusion. However when he looked back the boy’s body still lay there. If the boy was still there, then who was it that he pulled from the slide? It had to be the same person, the boy he pulled from the slide looked exactly the same. Had that been a ghost of the dead boy, then? If that was the case, how could Jack have seen the ghost, or even touched it? Maybe he could touch and see the ghost because he hadn’t helped the boy. It was like that in some stories, where only one person could see a ghost because they’d done something to them in their life. Perhaps Jack could see the boy because he hadn’t prevented his death, because Jack killed him. But then why was the ghost boy not haunting him? He was rather pleasant to Jack.
Jack had decided that the boy he pulled from the slide was a ghost, but with that in mind he began to feel fear. Would the little boy come back to haunt him later? And then there was the body, the shell that held the boy’s soul that Jack had pulled from the wreckage. Jack had never seen a dead body before, in person that is, he’d read about some people who died in both history and fiction from the books at home. The body’s eyes still looked to Jack, except the life was gone from them and they no longer pleaded for aid, they just stared as if blind.
Jack didn’t want to be here anymore, and he didn’t want to be found here if someone showed up and started asking questions. Although Jack lingered for a moment, to say goodbye to the body. Then he realized how ridiculous that was and repeated his goodbye in the direction the little boy’s ghost went.
After he felt he was done here he began walking back home. As he walked he wondered, had he really killed the boy? Or did he just help the ghost out of the body after the body had died? He couldn’t have killed the boy, the slide did that; all Jack did was help the ghost. Jack still felt he had killed the boy though, because Jack hadn’t done anything to prevent the little boy’s death, even though he could have. All Jack did was watch.
It made him feel a little sick as he thought of the body and remembered how it used to move and smile. Now Jack took the life from it and it looked at him with those disturbing dark eyes. All he could think of was the little boy’s body in the pool of blood. The boy had pleaded to Jack to help him, but all he did was take his soul. He did kill the little boy.
As Jack neared the house he slowed down and finally stopped a few houses away. He was out of the street light, but from where he stood he could see Dorothy sitting on the front porch looking out, probably for him. Jack was hesitant to go back to Dorothy. First she would ask where he’d been, and then why he was gone so long. What would he tell her for question two? That he was gone because he was waiting to kill a little boy? Jack didn’t want to face Dorothy right now, but if he didn’t she might call the police and they would surely find him. So Jack had no choice, and started walking again to the house.
At first Dorothy didn’t notice him and thought him a stranger with his head lowered, until he began walking up the driveway. Dorothy got up as fast as an old woman could and went to him to hold him in her arms.
“Where have you been?” Dorothy asked.
“I was at the park,” Jack responded, not embracing her in return.
“My goodness, I was about to call the police to find you!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well its good you came home, I’m so glad. Now you should come in to eat something.”
Dorothy took Jack inside, and when they were inside Jack sat down on a stool. Dorothy pulled out some food from the fridge and warmed it up while Jack waited. All the while Jack was waiting for her to ask why he was gone that long. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, and he didn’t look at her because he didn’t want to see her questioning eyes.
When the food was warmed up Dorothy put the plate down for Jack. Jack picked up his fork, but he didn’t eat.
“What’s wrong?” Dorothy asked.
Jack didn’t answer.
“Pease tell me Jack, I’ve never seen you so upset.”
“Have you ever seen a ghost, Dorothy?” Jack finally asked, but he continued to avoid her eyes.
Dorothy was confused for a moment, then she answered, “No. Is that what’s the matter, Jack? Did you see a ghost?”
Jack nodded his head.
“Oh come now, it was just a trick of the shadows!” Dorothy put an arm around Jack to comfort him. “Were you scared?”
“A little,” Jack said truthfully.
“Well the ghost is gone now and you are home, so there’s no need to worry about anything, okay?”
“Yeah.” Jack wanted to tell her that the ghost he’d seen was real and that he’d touched it. But it sounded like she wouldn’t believe him.
“Are you going to eat?” Dorothy asked noticing his still untouched food.
“No.”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“The ghost I saw was real, I could touch it.” Jack looked up now and looked at Dorothy, his eyes begging her to believe his story. It was real, it hadn’t been a trick of the shadows, there was a body and there was a ghost. “I saw a boy get killed, and then I went over to him and he asked me to help him, so I pulled his ghost from underneath the slide and told him to go home. Then he left. The ghost was real Dorothy, and I killed a boy.”
Jack’s eyes began to water now, and Dorothy looked at him very shocked. He was probably too old for this kind of behavior, but Jack began to cry. Dorothy pushed away her thoughts about his story and comforted him. She hugged him and pat his head, and told him it was okay. But Jack knew it wasn’t okay because something weird had happened. Jack wasn’t okay because he’d seen and touched a ghost, and killed a little boy.
Dorothy was soon able to calm him down and his sobs were now just little hiccups as he wiped his eyes.
“Jack,” Dorothy began in a gentle tone. “Are you sure of what happened? Did you really see a boy get killed?”
“Yes, and I saw his ghost too.”
“Well, perhaps you did, but maybe not. You were scared, weren’t you? It could have been an illusion.”
“But Dorothy, I swear I saw it,” Jack pleaded.
“If you say so, but don’t tell anyone because I don’t think they’ll believe you. Now we should call the police about the boy, don’t you think?”
Dorothy stood up and began walking to the phone when Jack grabbed her shirt and she stopped.
“But Dorothy, what if they find me guilty? I killed the boy, they’ll send me to prison!”
Jack’s eyes began to get watery again, and Dorothy went over to him.
“It’ll be alright, you didn’t kill anyone. You say you found the boy, right? Well then you weren’t even there when he died. The police aren’t going to do anything to you Jack.”
Jack kept his mouth shut and simply nodded. Dorothy gave him a kiss and then went over to the phone, and called the police. Jack didn’t want to tell her the rest of the story, how he’d watched the boy die and he didn’t do anything but come and take his ghost. He could lie to the police too, and tell them he was just taking a walk and he found the boy. They wouldn’t have any proof he was there except the boy’s ghost, and the boy’s ghost wouldn’t tell anyone, would he?
***********************************
Thanks for reading. ^^ Part three will be up next week.
