Losing It All

He swung the door open and hurried down the hall. He couldn’t take it anymore. Something was wrong, he could sense it. The silence was too much, those voices the day before had sounded so excited. Why? He couldn’t stand not knowing. Sooner or later, he would know what was causing the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was not something he had eaten as he first suspected it was. It was intuition, and it was driving him insane.

He nearly ran around the entire house, popping his head in every room only to find each one empty. Why were they empty? They never left him alone. They wouldn’t leave him alone. There were so many of them, one could always be relied upon to keep an eye on him. They needed to keep an eye on him, because his emotions were so out of control. He shook, grabbing the closest wall to him for support. He’d been round the entire house. Where was everyone? Why did they always have to keep him in the dark?

He let out a small cry of pain as he returned glumly to the room he was assigned. Hopeless, worthless, good for nothing—

He stopped abruptly in front of the door. He couldn’t remember closing it after him. The window wasn’t open, and hadn’t been open since they’d moved, so the wind couldn’t have blown it shut. He gulped. He was right. They never left him alone. He looked up from his feet to face the door now, and his heart almost dropped out of his chest as he tore the message from the door.

We’ve got her.

The tears streamed down his cheeks as he read those three words over a few times. They had her. His little angel. His reason to live. He had failed. He had failed miserably. He was supposed to protect her, keep her away from all this. What would happen to her? He knew the answer to that without question, but he couldn’t admit that. She would not die. Not if he had anything to do with it.

“I’m going to kill you!” he screamed aloud, slamming the door open and tumbling inside. A hand caught him in the middle of his stomach to prevent him falling face forwards.

“No, you’re not,” the voice belonging to the man replied, “You’re going to kill Bill.”

“I already told you. I won’t do it.”

He pushed the man away, scrunching up the piece of paper still held tight in his hands.

“Then you know what we’ll do to her.”

The man strode from the room, slamming the door again behind him. The boy ran forwards, pounding his fists against the wood, jiggling with the doorknob. He was locked in, again. He crumbled to the floor. They had won, he had lost. They wanted him to turn violent, he would. Anything to undone what he’d done.

[488 words]