Stolen

(16) -- The Lost Boy

Alex's POV - 10 years ago

"I've never seen weather like this," Mum mumbled, leaning forward over the steering wheel and looking forwards through the frantic windscreen wipers at the melting road ahead. The rain was so heavy it was constantly battering the roof of the car like a monster in one of my favourite TV cartoons. The radio was on, but I couldn't hear it. "There must be flooding everywhere," Mum carried on, squinting through the front window at the blurred red lights on the car in front.

It was very dark.

"No wonder your hockey match was cancelled." I rested my head against the rain spattered window. "Awh, sweet heart, I'm sure they will sort something out for next weekend. You'll get to try out your new kit then."

"I know..." I sighed, Mum resting her hand on my warm knee. I watched the barrier at the edge of the motorway in the light of Mums car.

"Hey, I know what." Mum poked my shoulder. "Next service station we get to, I'll go get you a Curly Wurly, okay?"

After a moment, I smiled, turning to look at her. "Thanks, but you don't have to..."

"I know, don't worry sweet heart." We drove on for a while before Mum flicked on the indicator and after a moment we pulled off to the left, then over the motorway bridge and down into the bright petrol station. Mum parked the car in a space and turned off the engine, leaving only the battering rain.

"I've got to get some shopping and things, so I'll be a minute. You can sit in the car - you don't need to get out and get wet." She lent over and kissed my forehead, then opened the door and climbed into the rain.

 I sat for a minute, tapping my fingers on the window, the rain pelting against the roof, strengthening and weakening with the wind.

Was it weird to say I wanted to open the window?

I resisted it, instead, I unclasped my seat belt and slid over closer, pressing my forehead against it. The window was cold. Damp.

I sighed, the glass fogging up. My side was facing out into the dark trees, and I could see the faint lights of the edge of a little town on the edge of London. It looked like it was melting in the rain.

The dark trees were illuminated for a split second as two police cars rushed across the bridge and down towards the town. In that split second, my heart rate rocketed. There was someone in the trees.

I watched, my eyes pinned through the blurred window, scared of what might happen if I looked away.

I was right. Someone stumbled out onto the tarmac, but I couldn't see their face yet. Its hair was flicked right over its forehead, shadowing its eyes from the light of the petrol station.

Through the haze of fear, I noticed how short it was. How small. When it looked up, I could see its face. His face.

He looked frightened out sanity, his eyes darting everywhere, and his hands crossed tightly across his chest. He made it out in front of the car before his legs collapsed and he landed hard onto the floor.

 As I watched him, a memory flashed through my mind. He reminded me of a dog we had found in a storm a year ago. All shivering and cold and stumbling around, soaking wet from the rain, and his coat was black and we had to look after him for a while before we took him to the rescue centre. He was so friendly and on the night he stayed at our house, he slept on the end of my bed.

And, in that second, I wasn't scared of the boy anymore.

He needed me to help him.

 As I quickly reached out, grabbing the door handle, he pulled into himself, clutching his arms around his small legs. The rain had already soaked my clothes before I had even took a step towards him, the hockey match already forgotten. I could feel cold streaks down my body and dripping off my nose.

I walked slowly towards him, hearing his sobbing over the hammering rain.

I swallowed my worry as best I could, treading gently towards him. He was on his side, his black hair - was it black? - dripping wet. The boys head was resting in a sheet of water, but he didn't seem to care.

"Hey," I called, and he looked up, black eyes matching black hair. He looked terrified and soaking. And cold - he was shaking. "Are you okay?"

I took a step closer.

"Don't," he wailed. "Don't." He shuffled himself away from me, crying into the ground. "Leave me alone."

"I..." I stayed where I was, cautiously. "I just want to help you."

He sobbed into the floor.

"Here," I said, stepping a little closer. "It's okay." The wind whipped his hair over his eyes, catching my wet clothes and tugging harshly at them. "My name is Alex," I smiled, compressing a shiver and leaning down to him, making sure to keep a bit of distance, so he wouldn't feel threatened by me. "I'm 9," I added. He looked up. I stuck out my hand like my dad often did, and he looked at it for a second, the rain soaking my skin.

I saw him swallow, his face lighting up on one side, his eyes flicking back and forth between my hand and my face. He waited for a long time before taking my hand.

"What's your name?" I asked, shaking his freezing fingers and pulling him up lightly. He crept to his knees, looking up at me, the pelting rain making him blink.

"Um..." he sniffed, looking down then back up at me. "Sean."

I smiled at him reassuringly, slowly stepping forwards and helping him to his feet. He let out a small sob and stumbled into me, his cold head knocking my chin. "It's okay," I grimaced, my jaw line stinging. "Where are you from?"

Sean stood by himself then, looking up at me, his arms folding around himself, making a barrier between my body and his. "Over there," he sniffed, pointing towards the lights through the trees. Where I had seen the police cars going. "Bracknell."

"Then what are you doing here?" I asked.

He let out a little sob and didn't reply, his head dipping. I noticed his soaking white t-shirt has a red stain on. My heart lept. I swallowed, my thoughts automatically flicking around for possibilities other than the one that had flown straight to me.

Tomato juice. Right.

Or grape juice? Grape juice is red, isn't it?

Not blood.

No. It couldn't be. No.

Yet I didn't dare ask.

Instead I offered him my hand. "Come on, we can wait in the car till mum comes back. She'll know how we can help you."

He looked up at me, his bottom lip trembling, his arms cupping his shivering wet body. His hair was dark, his eyes were darker. His body convulsed the ripple sliding down him body. I saw his swallow, his teeth chattering. He met my eyes, then took my outstreached hand. "Okay."

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Okay, sorry this took so damn long to upload... but... I have other things to be doing :( Sorry :( I'm trying my best to keep on with this, but... Yeah, sorry for slow uploads :(

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