~ Dark Forces ~

by

Kathy Anderson

Billy Williamson was having a very bad dream. The black hole was sucking him in and he was suffocating, drowning in the darkness. He woke gasping for breath, and the nightmare became real. Billy felt the rope around his wrists and ankles and remembered. He was alone in the dark, and he wanted his mother. He wanted to be out riding his bike with his best friend, George Johnson. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t know how long he’d already been here, for the darkness disorientated him, but it felt like forever. His other life was becoming more and more like the dream, and this was his reality.

It seemed so long ago now that he’d stopped crying. That he’d stopped praying to God. He’d told God that if He got him out he’d never do anything bad again for the rest of his life. He’d help his mother with all the chores around the house, and he’d be a better big brother to Gracie. He wouldn’t get mad at her when she came into his room and touched all his stuff, or when she followed him and George around asking what they were doing. He’d let her play with them, even if George didn’t want her to. And he’d help his dad wash the car on the weekends, and do the yard. He’d mow the lawn too, if his dad let him, but he didn’t think he would because Billy had wanted to have a go with the mower once before, a long time ago, and his dad had said he was too little. That something might spring up and hit him in the eye. That he could do it when he got older. Maybe he’d be old enough when he got out of here. If he got out.

He’d also told God that he’d make friends with Gary Patterson, who always sat by himself at recess and watched the others play. No one ever wanted to play with him because he was fat and stuttered. But Billy would try to make friends with him because he now understood what it felt like to be all alone and it was horrible. Billy had thought and thought about all the things he would do to be better, and all the promises he could make to God. But it hadn’t done any good and now he’d stopped talking to God.

Billy wriggled himself into a sitting position and squinted, trying to see in the darkness. It was no good. He had to pee, but he didn’t like using the bucket because it smelled so bad, and he knew his poo was in there. He hadn’t heard the Man come and take the bucket away yet. He reached out into the darkness for the bucket of water the Man left for him, splashing water on the floor as he tried to use his bound hands as a cup. Not much made it to his mouth, but it was enough to take the dryness away. At first he’d been terrified by the sound of the Man coming, but now he listened out for him to come with his food. He’d never spoken to the Man, even though he’d wanted to ask him when he could go home. He was scared that the Man would tell him he was never going home. The Man didn’t speak to him either--not when he brought the food, and sometimes a new bucket of water, and a clean bucket for Billy’s toilet. The only thing he’d ever said to Billy was “eat your food, little boy”, and though his voice wasn’t loud or angry it still scared him. It had made his stomach ache.

He remembered opening his eyes that first time and seeing the Man standing there beside his bed. He’d come into Billy’s room like some kind of ghost, and Billy thought he must have some kind of magic, even though he’d heard the window creak. Black magic. Because Billy had known he was coming even before he saw him there. He’d felt the darkness first, and it had woken him up. It had made the room feel cold, and every violent scene in every movie Billy had ever watched had flashed through his mind. He’d closed his eyes, and even though he’d wanted to run next door into his mum and dad’s room, despite being too old for that now, his legs wouldn’t move. The Man was dressed all in black and he’d only gotten a glimpse of him before the hand reached out over his nose and mouth and everything else had gone black, too.