Live and Learn (Short Stories)

Knock...

"Slowly... slowly... slowly... slowly... Oh, no, NO...! Aww... that sucks." He stares at the toppled blocks scattered all over the number carpet he got when he was six. The blocks are all different shapes and sizes. It was just starting to get fun...and his building had been going so well! "Look at this mess I'm going to have to clean up..." He mutters.

The boy looks up from his crumpled creation, his eyes gleaming yet emotionless. Though he won't ever admit it, he feels somewhat lonely in the large, childish room all by himself. He can't leave no matter how much he wants to for some reason. He sighs solemnly, the fallen blocks causing his mood to plummet. His eyes scan along the light blue walls, all the way to the nightlight sticker star ceiling.

Since the lights are on, and are very bright, he can't see them glow their faded green color. It makes him happy; he hates the glowing stickers. They make him feel like a child when he knows he isn't. "Why am I even here?" He murmurs, barely making his lips move to utter that lonely phrase.

He rakes his fingers through his hair, breathing out a hollow sounding sigh. "I can't even remember how I ended up in here... or where this even is. Why are all of my childhood things in here? I threw this thing away ages ago!" He picks up a stuffed rhino, one of it's button eyes are missing and cotton is fluffing it's way out of the hole. The rhino is old and dirty, stains covering it's sad, faded face. "What are you doing here, huh?" He stares, intrigued. This looks exactly like it had the day he threw it out.

He glances up, looking out at the room laid out before him. There shouldn't be any reason why this looks exactly like his old room, down to the last crayon drawing on the wall. Toys are scattered about the room, splayed out in odd ways. Something about the way the toys are laying reminds him of something. Maybe that was how his toys looked when he was done playing with them, where they ended up. There's no way that would be possible though because not even he knew how they looked.

This situation is strange, yet he can't find himself to care much about what's going on. "Hmm... It's weird. I feel oddly at ease when I should't be. Something is very, very wrong." His lips tilt into a frown. Sighing yet again, he crosses his arms. "I could have been kidnapped by some crazy admirer for all I know, so why am I at ease?" He looks up at the ceiling vacantly. He is missing something, he knows it, but what exactly is the missing puzzle piece? How he got here? When he got here? Why he's here?

If any of these are the pieces he needs, he's out of luck since he can't answer any of them and has no hope of finding it out if he can't leave or even think straight. One of his eyebrows twitch upward in irritation. "If this is some sort of sick joke, believe me, they'll have a whole of a lot to pay for..." He pauses as he thinks. "I can't even remember how long I've been here..." Quickly, his mood sinks and he drops to the floor in depression. "Food..." He moans, hungrily.

He lays down on the ground, staring gloomily up at the ceiling. "What am I supposed to do here?" He groans. "I'm stuck here with these toys -"

There is a knock at the door. Three knocks, in time with one another, echo throughout the room. He sits up quickly, slightly unbelieving that what he had heard was what actually happened. He sat there, staring as the baby blue painted door, unable to even force himself to get up or ask whos there. There's no way someone would KNOCK, let alone wait for his permission to enter. Just as he was about to brush off the noise, it came again. Three solid knocks he couldn't mistake as imagination.

Knock...Knock...Knock...

Pure fear and adrenaline rush through the boy's body as he crouches down on his hands and feet, readying himself for... for something. "Who is it?!?" He shouts in fear, his voice quivering ever so slightly. He waits for what feels like minutes but there is no answer.

Knock...Knock...Kn-

"I have a weapon, so it would be in your best interest to answer me and tell me what the HECK is going on!" He interrupts the fresh knocking. The boy knows that they are probably watching him through some sort of camera and know he is bluffing, but what other choice did he have? Open the door?

Knock...Knock...Knock...

Knowing they have no plans on answering him, he finally lunges himself at the door, both irritated and fearing the man on the other side is waiting to kill him. Digging his feet into the plush carpet and herding up all of his courage, he grips the door handle, turns it quickly, and rips the door wide open.

What stands before him is a brick wall and in front of his feet...a cake. Of course, not just any cake, but a birthday cake. "What...?" He mutter as he bends down to examine it. A brick wall? A cake? What is all of this? The cake is lumpy and messed up, leaning to one side. The candles on top are leaning the opposite way. The numbers read '13' and beside it is a word written in icing. This word makes the 13 year old boy freeze up.

Again...

That's what the cake says and that's what he registers. 13 again? "Happy Birthday..." A sad, tired woman's voice echoes from the other side of the brick wall that's assumingly separating them. He yanks his head up to glare at the brick wall.

"What do you want?!?! What does this mean?!" He shouts in furry and... sadness. The women sighs and the candles are blown out by a gust of wind. He shudders and can no longer bring himself to speak. Loneliness and sadness have taken him over completely.

"Happy birthday my sweet child... May you hear me on the other side... I love you... Now rest in peace..."

With those words, he knows a new year has begun. With those words, his world begins again, resetting all of the progress he had made.

Knock...Knock...Knock...