Nobody Knows

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
“For now, yes. But soon, more will join us.”



Submitted: May 17, 2017

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Submitted: May 17, 2017



“It’s this boy today, eh?”

Rummaging through garbage bins, looking for small bottle caps. That’s what the boy liked to do when he was bored during the day. At night, he would sleep beside the small hospital. They never chased him away. And when they had fewer patients, he was allowed to sleep on the benches. Well, the overnight nurse let him, but she was pretty sure the higher ups wouldn’t like it. She tried to bring him food, but he always said he was full. She tried to put him in a shelter for homeless kids, but he ran away three times. So she now just let him have a roof over his head at night and looked over his medical needs.

When hungry, he would eagerly wait beside a restaurant across the street. The chef gave him the leftovers when he had any. This took care of his dinner. For lunch, he would save some of the food in the sole piece of aluminium foil he had, and kept it behind a dumpster. The cold winter nights kept the food preserved. In the summers, he would have lunch only if the restaurant had leftovers to spare, or when someone gave him food.

He lived like a dayfly.

His struggles were the same day after day after day. Nothing new happened to him. His only concerns were finding food tomorrow and how would he spend the next night if the hospital was busy. He also liked looking at the landscape from the hill, at night. He would sleep under the stars when the benches were full or if the hospital was busy, his face illuminated by the moon. The only problem there was the itching he would have in the morning due to the pesky mosquitoes.

What happened to his father was unknown to him.

According to some, he was found on the streets, nestled between his dead mother’s breasts and covered in rags. Perhaps to keep him warm through the night.

His mother died in childbirth. Soon after she delivered him all alone, she could sense her end and made sure he survived the night.

Today, he was looking at a school, through the fences that surrounded it. He had always liked the idea of a school, studying, learning new things. But nature was his teacher and Earth, his school. He had the best teacher and the best school building.

Poverty wasn’t his prison, it was his gateway to learning about the Earth.

While he was looking through the fences, the security guards of the school came to chase him away. None of the students, or the teachers liked him “trespassing” into their property.

The guards tried to shoo him away, but his eyes were fixed at an open window revealing a blackboard.

“Go away boy, this is private property!” They shouted.

But he didn’t listen to them. His eyes and ears lay firmly on his desires. The shouting was approaching him, closer than ever. He turned around to see what was happening and was frightened to see two guards running towards him. He was scared, and dashed onto the streets.

There was a loud screech and a thud.
The vehicle had crushed him underneath its tires. His face was bloody, his abdomen torn. Both of his legs were disfigured. His rib cage broke and ruptured his lungs. Blood was flowing out profusely, but no one came to help him.

Not the driver, not the guards, not the passers-by.

No one.

He bled to his death. Right there on the streets.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see his dead body crushed beneath the car. He felt very light, almost like air. And he was floating five feet above the ground. As soon as he digested this information, his eyes widened. His breaths got faster, and his body started to shiver.

“Calm down.”

“Wh-who’s this?”

“I’m here to take you away from this suffering.”

“Take me where?”

“You’ll see.” The boy heard as he started floating upwards, towards the sky. He hadn’t ever been this high before, but he wasn’t afraid. He tried to hold back from asking any questions.

“How are we talking? I don’t have to move my lips at all.”

“We’re communicating through our thoughts, boy. We don’t need a language to communicate. Your pure, unadulterated ideas are what I, and what you can communicate with.” the voice paused, “It’s this stupid writer who needs to transcribe this in English for the readers.”

Before the boy could respond, he was blinded by the whitest light he had ever seen. But it didn’t hurt, it merely drowned out every other colour.

“Why were you so happy on Earth, boy?”

“Because I could play whenever I wanted,” was his innocent reply.

“Even inside the fences of poverty?”

“But fences have more empty space, than closed.”

There was brief silence after this, the boy looked around, but still couldn’t find the origin of the voice.

“Where are we?”

“You’re back to join me again, after play time down there.”

“Am I the only one here?”

“For now, yes. But soon, more will join us.”



© Copyright 2018 Kian. All rights reserved.

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