The Forsaken

Chapter Five - The Boy in the Tower

Gwen freezes. She doesn’t want to startle him. Obviously, he hasn't noticed her standing there, yet she has to do something. Gwen walks slowly toward the chapel, never letting her eyes lose sight of Douglas as she tries to sneak closer. She quietly creeps around the back of the church to the back door that she and Raven had used only half an hour earlier. Opening the door just wide enough to squeeze herself inside, she enters the chapel, desperately hoping he doesn’t jump while she’s sneaking about. Fear and adrenaline rushes through her as she makes her way up the steps toward the bell tower. Her heart pounds frantically in her chest, her breath caught in her throat as she rounds the last curve in the staircase and ascends to the top. The large bell is blocking her field of vision. Slowly she walks around the landing surrounding the bell, still anxiously holding her breath as she comes toward the front, frightened she might not find him there, his body broken on the ground below.

Douglas’s thin, tall silhouette stands against the night sky. Gwen almost releases a sigh of relief but holds it in, fearing the sound might startle Douglas, causing him to slip and fall to his death. Ever so slowly, she approaches the boy, coming up from behind him; his back slouched over and his head downturned. With shaky hands, she reaches out slowly toward the boy. Suddenly, she wraps her arms around his chest and pulls him toward her to safety.

            Douglas lets out a yell of alarm as Gwen, toppling backward, lands on her back with Douglas’s weight crushing her beneath him. Gwen groans in pain as she lets go of the boy, desperately pushing him off of her so she can breathe again. Douglas, startled, and scared out of his wits, rolls off of her, scrambling to his feet. He turns to confront his assailant

     “What are you doing here?” Douglas demands.

            “Trying to help you!” Gwen all but shouts back at him as she gingerly gets up off the floor, dusting herself off.

            “Why would you help me? You hate me!” the nine-year-old boy quarrels back, unable to hide the unsteadiness of his voice.

            “I don’t like you, but that doesn’t mean I want you to jump off a building,” Gwen replies a bit tersely.

            Douglas becomes quiet; his demeanor seems struck by her blunt words. Shame shows on his face, the hopeless air of someone who doesn’t want to live anymore hangs about him. His life had never been easy, but the latest injustice he has suffered is just too much to bear on his own and he daren’t tell anyone what happened.

        What does this girl know anyway? She doesn’t care. If she knew… she would’ve pushed me off the bell tower herself, Douglas thinks.

            “No, I wouldn’t. And I do know. It doesn’t matter how I know, you just have to trust me.” The skinny, little seven-year-old Gwen says in a sympathetic tone.

            Douglas looks at her, dumbfounded. Stammering, he says, “Bu--but... how did you know?” he starts to say, and then changing his mind, he goes on, “What wouldn’t you do? What do you

know?” he questions, challenging her.

“You were just thinking that I would push you off the bell tower if I knew what Sister Whitmore did to you,” Gwen says matter-of-factly, not knowing how to be delicate.

Douglas gives her a skeptical look.

“What? How could you know that? No one could know….” Douglas is surprised when, suddenly, Gwen rushes toward him, placing her hand firmly over his mouth to stop him speaking.

            “I told you not to worry about how I know! You wouldn’t believe me if I told you anyway,” she says in a harsh whisper. Stepping back, she removes her hand from his mouth and instead, takes his hand in hers and turns as if to lead him away. Instantly, Douglas yanks his hand back from Gwen’s grasp, jerking her backward. Furious, she spins around to confront him.