Gara

His feet felt like they were being stabbed by daggers with every step he took, and his arms were begging for a break from smacking vegetation to the side to move. He had been running for three days now, without food or water; and beginning to take a toll on him, exhaustion crept its way through him. He stopped for a second to catch a breath, resting his hands on his knees as he panted. He looked up and, in front of him, a dirt road that contorted across the forest manifested itself. After some thought, he stood up and decided to follow it.

His skin was a beautiful cinnamon which contrasted with his emerald green eyes, full of life and vigor; but young all the same. His nose was small and sophisticated while his lips, although as petite, were battered and cracked. The kid's hair was thin and curly and it crept down his forehead like a wild vine. It laid to the side of his temples and, creeping towards the rose blush that painted his freckled cheeks. His clothes were ragged and battered, but he wore them anyhow. With a necklace that dangled from his fragile neck, decorated by a cyan quartz, he held onto his white tee and shorts as he ran away. A poor kid, dashing through the forest with worn out leather sandals, who went by the name of Garoe.

He started following the mysterious road. The road magnetized him to it, as if calling him to do so, so he obliged. It zigzagged between the trees as it held Garoe’s hand throughout the journey. To the sides of the road, there were countless wild flowers like corn cockles, ram sons and orchids, decorating it and adding to its enchantment.

Garoe took a glance upwards, trying to find the sun to orientate himself, but the tree’s canopy had grown so dense around the road that which allowed specks of light to filter through it. He resumed his journey through the road, when he reached a small bridge. The bridge went over a stream of water that burbled against the wood with mild force. Garoe balanced himself over the edge and was surprised to see that the water was translucent; not a trace of debris or murkiness. He plunged his head into the water as he gulped by the gallon. He lifted his head to catch a breath and caught a glimpse, from the corner of his eye, of a small bank of carp. The sight of this brought a bright smile to the boy’s face.

He got up and continued his adventure through this magical trail until he met the end of it. At the place where the road met the floor of the forest, there was a mailbox that had made an acquaintance with the pass of time. He got closer to inspect it and, upon his touch, the structure collapsed. He took a step backwards in surprise and then knelt to see what had happened. The wood was rotten and the screws were loose which drew a look of disappointment on Garoe’s still lively face.

He raised his gaze and was presented with a massive log cabin, built with dark oak wood. He froze due to the surprise of the sudden apparition and doubted whether the cabin was a mirage from the exhaustion or an actual building. His curiosity got the better of him, so he approached the front door silently, as if to not wake up who might be inside.

He tried the door knob and it gave in, giving him access to the building. He stood there, puzzled, as he was assimilating what he was seeing. The house was massive, with huge windows and tall ceilings. The house was brightly lit as the afternoon sun made its way through the windows. To his left, there was a fireplace decorated with a large sofa and two reclining chairs, all surrounding a small, cream colored coffee table, and facing the fireplace. At the back of the room, there was a massive glass pane and, as he got closer, it became clear that they were, in fact, sliding doors.

Garoe turned to his right and decided to enter one of the three rooms that composed the other half of the house. He opened the door to the one closest to him, on the far back corner, and discovered a bathroom. There was nothing out of place, a normal bathroom with a toilet seat and an old sink. But, here was a smell that made Garoe gag. The smell of rot.

He left the bathroom and then went for the center room which turned out to be the master bedroom. The room was dark and the air was heavy which meant that it had been a while since that door had been opened. To his left lay the king-sized bed with a small wooden nightstand on the right side of it. Garoe shivered with the sound of a creek that came from the wardrobe on the far right corner. When he looked, he saw the door of the earlier closed wardrobe, opened ever so slightly. This was enough to get the young kid to sweat profusely and his heartbeat to skyrocket. He was not going to find out what that noise was.

As he walked out of the room, he could feel that the whole atmosphere had changed. The once brightly lit house was now dark and gloomy, with some sort of foggy attribute that made Garoe shriek with every small creak of the wood.

He entered the last room which emanated the same rotten odor as the bathroom, but much more intense. Inside, there was a simple kitchen, or so it seemed. There were cabinets, a small stove and oven, and a refrigerator, all to the left of where the boy was. Garoe went to the dining table to his right and felt his legs give up from under him after witnessing what laid atop it.

Resting on the middle of the dining table, there was a snapshot of a little boy. The picture was covered in blood and gore, and a red velvet scarf laid on top of the only chair that was out of palace. The boy took two steps back and the third one turned into a sprint for the door, which seemed to never get any closer. He reached it, but as he crossed the door frame, he heard a deafening engine stop at the front of the cabin.

Garoe froze for a few seconds before he reacted to the situation. He ran for the bedroom and tried the doorknob, which was mysteriously locked from the other side. Loud footsteps got closer and closer to the little boy who had now covered his head with his bone-thin arms. He closed his eyes as he heard the door screech as it opened.

He opened his eyes again to find himself laying on the floor of the forest under the protection of a large tree. The boy shot himself up and started swiveling his head around in fear. Once he determined he was safe, he began to shake at the whole nightmare he had had. Or was it really a nightmare? He didn't know.

He tried to stand up when an image flashed in his head of the little girl and the kitchen table. Then the image of the wardrobe and lastly, the sound of the door opening as the wood cried. The boy screamed at the top of his lungs as he dug his head into his lap, isolating himself from the world once again.

When he decided to uncover his face, thin streams of tears flowed through Garoe’s rosy cheeks, leaving a trail behind them as the dirt from his face got carried by them. Garoe cocked his head back and stared at the sky with what were once bright and lively eyes; but had now turned into bleak pits of voided absence. The sky was partially covered by the trees which, once again, allowed only small rays of light to reach the floor. The breeze was soothing and the sounds of the forest clothed him like a blanket. Garoe then felt lightheaded and started to lose consciousness. As he gently fell to the ground, a shadowy figure stalked him from the dense bushes before suddenly vanishing like a mirage.

Garoe’s eye peeked through the small crack from the open wardrobe door as his father’s fist pummeled his mother’s mouth, caving in two of her teeth. He remained still, unfazed, as his father’s closed fist hit her mother’s unreactive body again and again. He wanted to scream. He wanted to stop that man from beating his mother, but he wasn’t able to, he was only able to witness how his now naked mother got used by that pig after being beaten inches away from death.

It hasn't always been that way though. Before they moved out to England, they were happy. His father, his mother and him, all living together in a small apartment in the busy city of New York. They were not wealthy, and they struggled daily to make ends meet, yet they still managed to hold a happy household for their child. However, everything changed when his father got a job at a famous multinational as a store manager.

Money started to flow in and Garoe and his mother, Milenia, would spend their days at home, cooking for his father, reading books or drawing and writing. Milania would encourage Garoe to do anything he thought about doing, and this made him very happy. Their relationship was strong. They shared a bond that the father didn’t share, at all.

But that was a distant memory now. The reality is that he lives in a slaughterhouse, and he is just waiting his turn. After his father was done with the atrocious act that followed up the beating of the now unconscious woman, he zipped his pants back up and stumbled out of the room. On the bed laid the naked body of Milania, battered and bruised, but as beautiful as youth itself. It was sudden and unnoticed, but from Garoe’s eyes a light stream of tears silently slid down his face as he slowly opened the door.

She was incredibly beautiful. Her eyes were green, just like Garoe’s, but hers had blue highlights that made them enchanting. Her hair was long and blonde and her ears were delicate and petite, as well as the rest of her. She laid naked on the once white blankets that were now stained with her blood and sweat as Garoe looked with longing eyes at his beloved mother. He then began to weep as the night slid through the window, leaving the pair in complete solitude.

Garoe woke up the next morning barely remembering last night’s events, but he had a horrible feeling that something was really wrong, although he ignored it for most of the day, locking himself up in his room. In the afternoon, he walked to his mother’s bedroom, where he found her seated on the edge of her bed, still naked, staring blankly at a picture. The picture was a picture of Garoe when he was still an infant. Garoe made his way towards her, but as he approached her, she didn’t respond at all.

‘Hello mom’ he said, but there was no answer in return.

‘How are you feeling today?’

Their conversations were usually awkward, but this time there was something more to it than awkwardness. Garoe could feel a horrifying determination oozing from her mother’s empty eyes. She had made a decision, and her plan was going to be carried out no matter what. Garoes stood by her until she finally moved. She got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her, leaving Garoe out.

Suddenly, a deafening banging sound came from the adjacent room, which happened to be the kitchen of the house. Garoe purposelessly walked towards the door to exit her mother’s bedroom, when he saw something laying on the floor. It was her mother’s favorite comb. “How weird she didn’t take it with her to the bathroom” He thought and then walked out of the room.

He entered the kitchen, which was now dimly lit as night had been making its relentless advance through the residence, and was covering the house with a blanket of darkness. He stumbled upon an open drawer, which made him shiver, and in an instant, he knew what was happening. it was the knife drawer, and the chef knife was nowhere to be seen.

He started to sprint outside the room when he heard his dad’s car pull up to the driveway. “Shit, he’s here”. Garoe rushed towards her mother’s room and tried the doorknob desperately, but it didn’t give in. It had been locked from the inside. Meanwhile, the doorknob from the front door turned slowly and, as it opened, it screeched. Garoe slowly turned his head around and when his eyes met the front door, he knew what was going to happen.

Standing in the door frame was Garoe’s father, Waldo. he was tall, around 6’2, and had a bald head that shined with the right amount of light. His eyes were dark brown, but his skin was red, as well as his stubble beard. Waldo hung his coat on the coat rack to the right of him, and then he locked his eyes on a now terrified Garoe.

Waldo stared at 11-year-old Garoe, until he finally decided on what he was going to do, slowly unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. He grabbed Garoe by his neck and lifted him up ten inches from the ground, as he choked him without any speck of sympathy. Garoe struggled to breathe, but Waldo didn’t care, he was just here for his daily dose of entertainment.

‘Listen here you little shit’ he said

‘I am sick and tired of you and your useless mother doing absolutely nothing’

‘I work all day, and when I get home, all I have is a useless wimp of a son and a pathetic push-around of a wife. I am fucking tired.’

With that last phrase came a heavy slap that sent Garoe flying 3 feet. As Garoes started to gain a sense of where he was again, Waldo’s beckoning shadow grew closer and closer, eventually making Garoe wet his pants, which only infuriated Waldo more.

He buried his knees on the sides, next to the boy’s fragile body, and placed two big metallic rings in his index and middle finger as he grinned, staring directly into the kid’s eyes. The first hit was so hard that it made Garoe throw out a desperate wail of pain. Following it, came a barrage of brassed strikes that landed directly on Garoe’s face. He laid there, still, as his father’s fist dug deeper and deeper in his skin. He started to feel something he had never felt before, he was feeling hate. A hate so strong that made Waldo hesitate for an instant when he saw his son’s eyes. But he carried on anyway.

After the brutal beating, Waldo stood up and walked towards the kitchen, where he planned on washing his bloody hands. Garoe laid on the ground; bleeding intensely, but this time, he was still conscious. Waldo walked out of the kitchen and after standing in the hallway for abdew seconds, a dark smile grew on his evil face as he gazed at his wife's bedroom. Garoe saw this and now, he was determined to settle this once and for all.

Waldo tried the door, but it didn't open. Furious, he strode to the kitchen again and grabbed a kitchen rag. He enveloped his hand on it and began to pummel the wood until he broke it, causing the door to swing open. Garoe was still on the ground, but he was seeing it all with bloodshot eyes.

Waldo walked into the room holding a Jack Daniel's bottle in his left hand and his blood-stained rings on his right hand. He looked around the room, but his wife was nowhere to be seen. He glanced at her bathroom and saw that the door was closed. He smiled.

Outside the room, Garoe was slowly stumbling up to his feet, fighting with the pain and fear that flowed in him. After a few balances, he managed to stay stable and decided to visit the kitchen first, he knew what he had to do. He crossed the doorframe, on which he had to lean on for a bit as he was still stunned from the hits he'd taken, and then he looked blankly at the top drawer. The knife drawer.

Waldo was walking slowly towards the closed door, with a disgusting smile on his face. Once he reached the door, he knocked on it gently, calling for his “beloved wife”.

‘Honey, I just got back from work. I've missed you a lot all day.’ he said, smiling

‘Come out and give me a big ol’ hug’

The door then began to slowly open which made Waldo laugh hysterically, like a wild animal.

Suddenly, the door flung open, hitting Waldo on the nose and breaking it. Then, Milenia flew out of the room with a chef’s knife clenched in her right hand. She laid on top of a weakened Waldo, like he had over Garoe. This time, Milenia was carrying a sickening smile.

From the kitchen, Garoe hears the commotion coming from her mothers bedroom. He sprinted out of the kitchen, forgetting what he had gone in there for in the first place. He slowly pokes his head around the corner of the doorframe and hesitates to glance in the room. His heart was beating loudly, and his sweat was cold on his forehead. He turned the corner.

As Garoe was making his decision, Milenia threw her arms over her head and plunged them down on Waldo’s chest, penetrating it with the knife. Waldo gave out a wail of pain that resonated throughout the whole house. Milenia repeated the motion over and over again until Waldo laid still on the warm carpet, surrounded by a puddle of thick blood. After her frenzy was over, she tossed the knife aside and dropped her arms to her side. Slowly, she raised her head and was met by the shocked eyes of Garoe.

Garoe heard a wail as he was looking into the room. His knees began to shake and his breathing intensified when he saw his father being stabbed repeatedly by his mother.

He froze, bewildered, when he met his mother’s predating eyes laying their stare on him, although that only lasted a second.

Upon seeing her son, Milenia shot up and ran towards him with whatever strength she had left. When she got to him, she embraced her son with all the warmth that her naked body had to give which contrasted beautifully with the ice-cold skin of the boy.

Garoe flinched when he saw his mother get up and sprint towards him, and when she hugged him, he could only stare at the empty carcass of who once was his abusive father. He began to sob, which then turned into a desolating cry.

After Garoe had released all his tension, Milenia slowly let go of him, smiling warmly when their eyes met yet again. However, Garoe could still see that same determination he saw earlier which made him feel horrified at what may happen next. Milenia made her way to her feet and once she was standing, she spoke with a soothing voice, irradiating love

‘You are a good boy, now become a good man, learn from your father what not to be and love as if you weren’t going to get hurt.’

‘Why are you telling me this now, mom?’

‘I can’t tell you, it’s our little secret’ she said as she smiled playfully at the confused boy.

Then, she got up and went towards the bathroom again. Before she closed the door and locked it, she turned around and, with a smile, she said ‘I love you’

Garoe remained knelt on the floor for a few seconds. His mind was bothered by the whole situation. It felt surreal. He wished it was a dream and he pinched himself in the arm to see if he would wake up, but he didn’t. Then, it all fell into place.

The police arrived two hours after the whole incident, after being reported that screaming was coming from the house. When they arrived, they found a sleeping Garoe leaning on the bathroom door of the master bedroom. Next to him, there was the corpse of a man, and the murder weapon sitting right beside him. The officers picked up the boy and carried him to an ambulance that had also been called, in which he got taken away to a hospital nearby. Once the boy was out of the house, the squad proceeded to break through the bathroom door, where they found the body of a naked woman with her wrists sliced open, but with a smile on her face.

Garoe woke up at the hospital, where a nurse was taking his vitals and checking up on him. His eyes darted from one side of the room to the other, trying to understand where he was. He moved under the blanket that covered him and sat straight up, staring into the nurse’s eyes.

‘Hello honey’ she said, with a warm voice.

‘How are you feeling?’

Garoe didn’t answer.

‘I’m sure you must be really scared and confused right now. Don’t worry honey, you are at the hospital, we are taking care of you.’

Garoe kept his gaze on the nurse’s eyes and after an intense staredown, he laid back on his bed again and went to sleep.

He spent three days at the hospital before he got to meet Miss Rochard. She was old and saggy, with long grey hair and shriveled lips. Her nose was long and protuberant, highlighting the huge wart that decorated the tip. Her dress was dark and long, and she used a wooden cane to aid her walking. She approached Garoe on his bed. She grabbed his hand and told him that his parents had died in a car accident and that he was in the car. He couldn’t remember what had happened, but for some reason he knew he wasn’t going to see Milania and Waldo again.

‘I want you to come with me Garoe’ she said

‘Where?’ These were the first words that Garoe spoke since he had gotten to the hospital.

‘I have a home where I take care of children like you, without parents.’

‘Will you hit me m’am?’

‘Of course not darling, of course not’

‘Can you promise me?’

‘I promise’

A week after their first meeting, Garoe was being picked up by Miss Rochard in a black SUV with tinted glass. Garoe hesitated to get in the vehicle, but he did after hearing Miss Rochard’s voice. That evening, Garoe rode the vehicle as dawn reached its prime, caressing the darkness that would soon replace it.