The late afternoon light filtered through the cracked blinds, casting broken lines of brightness onto the cluttered floor. In a corner of the small, dim room, the boy sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, his thin arms wrapped tightly around his legs. He listened to the muffled voices on the other side of the thin wall. His mother was talking to someone again, that desperate edge in her voice that he had learned to recognize. She'd been on edge for days now, pacing around the apartment, nervously checking the time, waiting for something. Or someone.
He didn't understand everything she said, not really. Words like "borrowed" and "money" floated through the air, but they hung heavy with something he couldn't quite grasp. All he knew was that every time the doorbell rang, his heart would race, and he'd hold his breath, hoping it wasn't the man from the night before.
She had looked different this morning. The way her eyes had glassed over, as if a curtain had drawn across her mind. The needle beside her on the coffee table—a stark reminder of her struggle. He had tried to talk to her, tried to make her eat, but she just shook her head, murmuring that she wasn't hungry. As the day wore on, he had busied himself with small tasks, cleaning the small apartment, fixing meals from whatever scraps he could find, all while keeping an eye on her.
Now, as he sat there, he felt a familiar sense of dread creep into his chest. The front door rattled, and he could hear a heavy knock, a sound that vibrated through the thin wood. The boy swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. He knew that knock. It wasn't the kind that brought good news.
"Mom!" he called softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, please… don't open the door." He strained to hear her reply, but the silence that followed was deafening.
"Mom!" he shouted, a hint of panic breaking through his voice. He stood up, his small frame trembling as he moved toward the door, peering through the peephole. The man stood there, his shadow stretching across the threshold. He was broad-shouldered, wearing a leather jacket that seemed too big for him, and a cruel smile that made the boy's stomach twist.
"Open up, sweetheart!" the man called, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "I know you're in there! Your mother owes me, and I'm not leaving until I get what's mine."
The boy's breath quickened. He could feel the warmth of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall. Not now. Not ever. He wanted to be brave, to protect his mother, but he was just a kid. What could he do against a man like that?
"Mom, please!" he said again, desperation flooding his words. He turned back to find her sitting on the couch, her hands trembling in her lap. The once vibrant woman he remembered was fading, replaced by a hollow shell, lost in the chaos of addiction.
"Just stay quiet, baby," she whispered, her voice shaky. "He'll go away."
But the boy knew that wasn't true. The man's voice rose in anger, pounding against the door like a thunderstorm. "You've had enough time! I'm coming in!"
The boy stepped back, fear coursing through him as he felt the room closing in. The door shook violently as the man kicked it, splintering wood cracking in protest. "Let me in!"
In that moment, something snapped inside the boy. He couldn't just stand by and watch. He had to do something. "Mom, I'll—"
Before he could finish, the door flew open, and the man burst in, his anger palpable, filling the small space like a dark cloud. "Where's my money, Jessica?" he spat, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.
"Please, just give me a little more time!" his mother pleaded, rising to her feet, her frail body shaking. "I promise I'll pay you back! Just… just let me have one more day."
"Days? You think I have days?" The man stepped closer, his face twisted in fury. "You think I'm playing games with you?"
He began walking slowly towards her, "You know you could just pay me with your body",
Now closer to her he stretched out his hand and started vigorously harassing her.
The boy felt a surge of anger and fear as the man did that to his mom, a mix that sent adrenaline racing through his veins. "Leave her alone!" he shouted, his small voice trembling but filled with an unexpected strength. He stepped forward, positioning himself between the man and his mother, fists clenched at his sides.
The man looked down at the boy, surprise flickering across his face before it was replaced with a sneer. "What are you going to do? You think you can stop me?"
"I will!" The boy's voice cracked, but he held his ground, even as his heart pounded wildly. "You can't hurt her!"
The man laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed off the walls. "Oh, you're a brave little hero, aren't you? How cute." He reached out, shoving the boy aside with a force that sent him tumbling to the ground.
The boy scrambled back up, but before he could reach his mother, the man grabbed her by the arm, pulling her close. "You think this is going to end well for you? You owe me!"
"Stop!" the boy shouted, the desperation rising in his throat. "Just leave her alone!"
In a heartbeat, everything spiraled into chaos. The man turned, furious, and in that moment, the boy lunged forward, trying to pull his mother away. The struggle was a blur—a whirlwind of fear and adrenaline—until he felt a sharp pain explode in his side.
He stumbled back, shock washing over him as he looked down to see blood blooming on his shirt. "No…" he whispered, his voice trailing off as darkness closed in around him. The last thing he saw was his mother's face, a mask of horror, before the world slipped away.
---
The boy awoke in a cold, dim place, confusion swirling in his mind. The sounds around him were muffled, distant echoes that felt foreign. He blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness, but all he could see was an endless void stretching out before him.
"Where… am I?" he murmured, but no one answered. Panic bubbled up inside him as he tried to move, only to find that he was weightless, adrift in a sea of shadows. Memories flooded back—his mother's face, the man's anger, the sharp pain—and he realized with dawning horror what had happened.
"I need to go back!" he shouted into the darkness, but the void swallowed his words. "I have to get back to my mom!"
He felt a shift, as if the air around him thickened, and he was suddenly aware of a distant light flickering at the edge of his vision. It pulsed like a heartbeat, and he instinctively reached for it, longing to return to the warmth of his mother's embrace.
"Mom!" he cried out, the name echoing in the silence.
As he propelled himself toward the light, determination surged within him. He wouldn't give up. No matter how deep the darkness, he would find his way back to the land of the living. He would save his mother, even if it meant fight death itself
---
And so began his journey through the land of the dead