The Boy: Part 4

The boy is sitting in a room, looking out the window. His room, his mother keeps calling it, but he does not recognize the beige walls or the people on the posters. The boy waits for something to happen, but the street has been emptied. The summer air has not reached the neighborhood yet, so most families have packed their bags to meet it halfway. Not his, though. All they have ever known, is how to outrun the heat. One hour ago, there was a brother and sister playing outside, staying right where he could see them. The playgrounds sandbox. That’s the first place they wanted to go as soon as their cranky, old dad parked his car, full of trash from some 10-days-long beach trip. A sandbox. After 10 days at the beach. Don't they ever get enough? Aren't their shoes filled with bristly grains by now? The boy can still see traces of them in the sand. One time, he asked if they wanted to play knights with him, you know, for a change, but the oldest one told him they weren't allowed to, because of stranger danger and all that. Then what will become of me if everyone is a stranger? The boy thought to himself, but he didn't dare to ask the question out loud. 

The boy sits down by the desk and turns on the computer. No new messages. Not even from Georgie. He, as everyone else, is on vacation somewhere. The sun’s favorite view, he called it. Or perhaps he was just passing on his mom’s words. It was she who took Georgie away from the boy. Something about needing space from the angry man in the house. The story is not unheard of. The boy himself has learned that throwing tantrums makes others run. That is the real reason the family next door left. 

The boy starts typing on the keyboard: “i miss playing dragons” but quickly erases it. He should not bother him. Georgie has better things to do. He is probably drinking freshly pressed orange juice and enjoying the spiderman issue that they had sworn to read together. In Georgie’s world, the boy doesn´t exist anymore. By now, he must have found a replacement. Someone fun, who owns a castle where all action figures come to life. The boy could never compete. For the boy, every friendship is everlasting, but the rest find him to be easily forgotten. A vague memory that might have been a dream. Georgie will be just the same, moving on to more interesting things, while he stays behind. 

The boy looks at the paper he got from his teacher, on his last day of school. “I want all of you to write down a list of the best things that happened this summer!” she had said, and the boy's blood turned cold. The best things this summer? What may that be? He has not been to a beach since the day all was left behind. His father never bought the yacht he always talked about. This summer, he has not seen anything besides walls greyer than the sky. He does not even have his own room. The boy picks up the pencil he borrowed from Georgie, but there is nothing to write. He might make something up, like how he rescued a princess and ate dinner with her father, but what if they see right through him? 

The boy starts wondering what Georgie will write about. Does he even want to hear it? About his new, cool, incredible life? Maybe the boy should just skip the first day all together, to lift the worries off his shoulders. It is not like he will pay attention in class anyway. If anyone asks, he can just say that his summer was so wonderful that he did not want it to end. But he cannot stay away forever. When he finally does tie his shoes, last seen soaked months ago, he is bound to pass friend groups competing and arguing who of them visited “the most exotic country”, while the loudest kids, will laugh about how homesick they were the entire time. 

And when he enters the classroom, will there still be a free space for him besides Georgie? He is not sure. The seat might be taken, by someone who is good at being the new kid. Who knows when to make the right jokes at the right time, and how to turn mundane events into epic tales. All the kids will love him. And then they will ask the boy to leave, because he is standing in the way. He will lose his first and only friend ever made. The thought makes the boy tear up, but he quickly wipes them away. 

The boy looks out again, eyes directed towards the sandbox. Maybe he should go outside, play for a bit. Does it matter that there is no one besides him? He can build a sandcastle. One big enough to become his home. Then he can spend the rest of his days there. When he gets lonely, he can make sandmen to keep him company. Maybe, after some time, real people would want to visit too. If he only keeps the castle nice enough for guests. The boy is on his way to the door, to make his fantasy into reality, but is stopped by one realization; kids tend to have a blast destroying sandcastles. The sister and brother will be back in no time, and they will stomp over all his attempts, to drive him away. The sandbox is their home, after all, and they don´t want any uninvited strangers inside. He would probably do the same, if he wasn´t so alone. The boy returns to his bed. What a foolish idea. What was he even thinking?

The boy closes his eyes. It is only the afternoon, but the boy sees no point in staying awake. It makes no difference. In the boy room, time stands still. The calendar has not moved on from the last day of school. He can only pray that one day he will be let out of this prison, and that there will still be need of him outside of it. But until then, he will drift away, to someplace he doesn't exist.