The Boy Next Door - DNF

Prologue

TW: Abuse

His mother had taken him out for the day in order to celebrate Mother's Day. George held his mother tightly by the hand, afraid to lose her in the deep crowd of the shopping mall.

He was only five years old. Every figure that passed by appeared colossal compared to his tiny, frail built body. The only person he could trust in was his mother, who's appearance seemed classy and full of life.

"George," she points to a collection of purses. "Which one do you think will suit mummy?"

George picks out a bright pink purse out of the display and hands it to his mother. She stares at it for a bit, judging the style and the price tag attached. He stands there eagerly, hoping that he had pleased her. She gives him a smile and places the handbag back.

"It might be a little too expensive," his mother states disappointedly.

A surge of disappointment also plasters a frown on George's face. He wanted his mother to live a life of luxury. He always noticed the subtle pout she gave when she checked the price tags.

They spent the rest of their day going into candy shops and buying a blue balloon that George held onto with his free hand. His mother looked at him with a bright grin on her face, displaying true happiness.

It began to get dark and George became quite tired. They had done a lot of walking — much more than a small child like him could handle. They made their way back to their parked car where he was buckled into his seat.

When they got home, the house was eerily silent. His mother didn't think much of it, since she presumed that her husband was at work. However, George had a feeling; dread.

George had made his way to the living room and carefully placed the balloon in one corner, smiling at the dog patterns painted all over it. He then went to the kitchen, where he emptied out the bag of sweets onto the table.

All of a sudden, he hears his mum screech. For a woman who has been so calm all of her life, this meant that there was something awful. She began to repeatedly yell his father's name with curse words following subsequently.

"Gerald," she screams, "what is wrong with you!"

He quickly responds, "Patricia, honey, I didn't think you'd be home this fast."

Out of curiosity, George crept up to where the sound was echoing from. He ended up near his parents' bedroom, observing as her mother stood in the doorway, purse dropped on the floor.

George sneaks behind his mother to peek into what she was witnessing. He could not make out much, since the room was lit with a dim lamp on one of the bedside tables. That was until he saw someone shuffle in the covers, someone who was not his dad.

A woman got up from the bed and awkwardly moved around to pick up her clothes. She covered what she could as she left the room. When she passed by George's mum, she made brief eye contact with George, her expression almost smiling, showing no remorse for what she has just done to his family.

"How could you do this to me?" George's mother continues, rage igniting within her.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Do you hear yourself?" She shouts, eyebrow twitching, "what other possible explanation could there be!"

George realises the reality of this situation. His father had just cheated with his mother, and he had no idea what was going to happen. He felt invisible as he watched his two once loving parents quarrel back and forth.

His father stands up from the bed in only his boxers, towering over his petite mother. His facial expression had switched from pleading to irritation. George was unsure if that was even his dad. He had never seen such a look from him before.

"What made you think it was okay to even consider doing this?" She rambled out of fury. "I feel like I've just wasted my life away, loving someone like you."

His mother continued, "and what about George? To think I birthed the son to a filthy creature like you—"

A slapping sound pierced the whole house.

George's jaw fell agape as he watched his mother take a few steps back, her hand rubbing her cheek. He remained still, his feet were glued to the ground and he was too shocked to move.

He watched as his father continued to place his hands onto his mother. His mother ended up collapsing to the ground, where his father did not stop, and only climbed on top of her to keep on punching.

George winced at his mother's cries and he eventually gained the courage to attempt stopping the fight. He approached both of his parents and pathetically tried to grip onto his father's hands.

His father glanced at him with no mercy. "Oh, so you want a go too?"

Before George knew it, fists as hard as stone were making hard contact with his face. Being a little child, he was knocked off his feet easily and blocked the punches with his thin arms.

George didn't hear anyone cry, or shout, or do anything. He only heard his soft whimpers fill the deathly silent room and the sounds of his skin being beat. He closed his eyes, wanting it to be over.

Finally, after a while, his father had brought it to an end and left the room. He muttered about how he's the only one who makes income in this house, and that he should be more appreciated.

George removed his arms from his face, feeling numb all over his body. He expected to see his mum nearby, or at least somewhere, but it seems that she had disappeared.

He was all alone.