Boy Unraveled

By Chris Bouchard

By all outward appearances, Henry's new family is perfect. But appearances can be deceiving, and it isn't long before Henry becomes a servant in his foster home. The couple that vowed to care for him instead chastise him for his "demons". When they're away at church, their children devise new and terrifying ways to torture him. In the darkness of the basement where he sleeps, Henry's disturbing nightmares send him on a frantic search for someone named Charlie. But who is Charlie? And what does he have to do with Henry?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483562797

Book preview

EPILOGUE

The trees strained under the weight of the snow, making an eerie creaking sound as they swayed in the blustering wind. There was no sign of life for miles. A lonely cabin sat in the distance, marked only by the reflection of an outside light on the field of deep snow. Yellow light broke pitifully through the solemn darkness of the forest all around.

He looked out at the white sea that coated the open field as if to bury unheard of transgressions until spring. Massive flakes dropped from the night sky only to be carried away with immense force to their final resting place.

He turned hard into the bulk of his scarf to avoid the sting of the snow as it hit his face. Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, he tried to recall where he was or how he had made his way there. But he couldn’t. The only thing even reminiscent of home, of a place that he belonged to, was the familiar shadow that beckoned him. It spoke to him. Never in words, but he understood it quite well.

He stepped into the fresh snow and looked around, only to notice there were no footprints anywhere. The snow was knee deep. His socks were wet, and wool could only repel moisture up to a point.

He wasn’t even sure he knew who he was anymore, but he headed toward the light of the cabin. Something told him this was the place he belonged.

He trudged wearily through the snow. Breathing was painful as the frigid air stung his lungs with every breath. Then finally, he stopped.

The shadow moved closer. As his lungs fought for more air, panic took over and everything went dark. Pitch black. He knew he was still alive because he could feel his heart pumping blood through his veins. But everything else vanished. Except the shadow.

He closed his eyes, trying to shake the blindness. But when he opened them, the shadow still clung to the nothingness surrounding him.

He turned around. Not in body, but in mind. He couldn’t see his body over the glare. He could see only the shadow.

The form that called to him wasn’t audible. It was telepathic. A message with no words.

Henry…

It whispered.

Henry…

A bright light peeked through the night sky, beckoning the shadow to release its hold on the boy, but the light was quickly swallowed by the immense resistance.

He stepped back, his heel struggling to secure stable footing. The wind changed direction as the world spun around him. A chill ran up his spine as the snow met his back and the shadow moved closer. Laying helplessly, he shut his eyes and let out a silent scream as a feeling of warmth flowed through his body. A calm. A serenity.

He looked around and found himself sitting inside his warm house. Apparently, he had been sitting there for some time. His muscles felt achy, begging him to move around, to do anything but sit. Nothing had changed. He felt like he had woken from a dream, but he wasn’t sleeping. He looked toward the black boxy numbers of the clock radio that he could see through the open door of the bedroom. 3:48 PM it stated, coldly. The same time it had proclaimed the last time he had looked at it. Either no time had passed or he had been sitting there immobile for at least a full day.

I must be losing my mind, he thought to himself.

And this wasn’t the first time either. After all, the shadow had been haunting him for years.

Since the textile mill gave Charlie Rye the pink slip, he spent most of his time hanging around the house. Charlie tried to pitch in with the housework as much as possible so that when Sarah got home she wouldn’t have to worry about anything. She was the only one working at the moment and he really needed to find a job because neither one of them had any family to fall back on.

After Charlie finished folding the laundry and washing the left over dishes from the night before, he found himself skimming through one of his favorite novels. He must have lost track of time because Sarah walked through the door as he was lying on the couch. She glanced at him, but didn’t say anything. She threw her purse down on the small table that occupied the only open space in the hallway between the door and the kitchen as she made her way in. He heard the refrigerator open and then slam a little harder than he thought necessary. Then, the pop of a soda can and a moment of silence before the can met the counter with a bang. What followed was the light sound of soda spilling everywhere. Damn. He had just wiped that counter!

Charlie could tell that she was looking for a fight already. Obviously, she was still upset because she’d found out that he had called his ex-girlfriend, Jenny, a few times last week. He and Sarah had argued about it non-stop for days and he’d lost the energy to continue fighting. He ignored her as she stomped around the kitchen.

Then, she stepped into the living room.

What’d you do today? she asked.

He wanted to ask if it was Tuesday or Wednesday, but decided against it.

Without waiting for an answer, she walked back into the kitchen.

Not much, Charlie said with a slightly raised tone to make sure she would hear him.

He sure as hell wasn’t going to give her a rundown of his daily routine. That’s just ridiculous, he thought. And degrading.

Walking with heavy steps, she made her way back into the room. She looked directly at Charlie as if to challenge him to a staring contest. You talk to your girlfriend today?

Charlie didn’t even bother to look up from his book. Whatever, Sarah. He shrugged.

That made her mad. She wanted an argument, but he wasn’t going to give her one. He could feel her staring at him. He ignored her, and pretended to go back to reading his book. He was so fed up with her jealousy and her sarcasm.

I’m going to take a shower, she huffed as she walked down the hallway and slammed the bathroom door.

He waited until he heard the water run. The thought of leaving started to run through his mind, but he just sat there thinking. He tried to fight back the urge to look through her phone, but it was too much to bear. She had been treating him worse than usual lately and he knew that she was hurt because he had been talking to Jenny again, but his gut told him that she was involved with someone else. All of the signs were there. He’d be a fool to deny them.

Charlie slid the book off his chest and slowly sat up on the couch as he listened for the sound of running water. Positive that Sarah was still occupied, he stood and walked over to where she had left her purse, lying on its side and partially open from being thrust down on the table near the front door. He felt around, finding lipstick, a makeup case and then a wallet. He dug a little deeper, pulling out her phone. It was locked. He keyed in the pass-code to the alarm system. Luckily, it worked. That meant she thought he wouldn’t suspect a thing. He hoped he was wrong.

Charlie looked through her call logs, but she hadn’t called anyone since she purchased the phone except the cell phone company. He navigated his way into the text message section to find that the only conversation included incoming and outgoing messages to the same number. The number wasn’t saved as a contact, so he didn’t know who the man was, but what he read was enough to confirm his suspicions. He sighed and shook his head. Why couldn’t I have been wrong?

The messages indicated that she had been meeting him at his house and there were even references to nice restaurants and clubs. That meant that everyone knew but him. He even saw a reference to meeting the parents. This was serious. Charlie could feel the rage building inside as his hands started to shake. His face glowed red as hunched over the table, resting his clenched fists.

Oh…I could fucking kill you, you bitch, he muttered to himself.

Peering in the direction of the bathroom, he curled his lips and shook the thought from his mind. He tapped the glass surface of the coffee table with his knuckles, slowly rocking back and forth in a soothing rhythm only familiar to a mental patient.

Calm down, Charlie told himself. He walked back over to the couch and sat down. He picked up the book that he was reading, and swung his feet onto the couch. As he lay there, a mess of crazy thoughts ran through his head, but he was better off not acknowledging them. For some reason he really wanted to watch Psycho, but just the shower scene.

The water stopped running, and the worst of the thoughts subsided. He could hear the rustle of the shower curtain as Sarah opened it to get a towel. He knew he’d better calm down before she came back in the room.

What should I say? Should I just forget it? Should I not say anything right now and pretend like I didn’t see anything? Yea, that’s what I’ll do. I don’t want to fight. I don’t need the trouble. I’ll just pretend nothing happened, get some money together and leave her when I can afford my own place, he thought.

A few minutes later, Sarah came around the corner in her towel. Her hair was still wet, though she had wrung it with a towel to the point that it was not dripping. She glared at him, turned around and walked down the hall into the back bedroom.

Charlie grasped at the arm of the couch, trying to keep the anger at bay. It was a really bad idea if he stayed, but if he left he was in for a fight. He sighed as he rose, pressing hard into the arm of the couch.

He shook his head in frustration as he walked over to the kitchen where he had left the keys to his car on the counter next to a bowl of week old apples. As he picked up the keys off the counter, Sarah came around the corner.

She spoke to him through pursed lips. Where are you going? She just stared.

He looked at the floor, avoiding the anger in her eyes. For a drive. Sarah rolled her eyes, obviously not caring too much for his answer, but he didn’t need her approval. His eyes darted back and forth toward the door as the muscles in his shoulders twitched. He had to get out before a fight broke out. He didn’t have any other place to live. No family. No job. Charlie wanted to keep the peace as long as he could.

As he started making his way toward the door, she interrupted him. A desperate cry for peace came from beneath the hostility. So that’s it? You don’t wanna talk?

Charlie took a deep breath and looked at her. About what? What do you wanna talk about?

I don’t know. We’ve just been fighting since the whole Jenny thing. It’s not like we’ve really talked about it.

Well, I don’t know what you want me to say. I was with the girl for five years. We’ve known each other since middle school. We’re still friends. I’m still going to talk to her.

But you don’t need to, Charlie! She said, You want to. If you still want to be with her then go be with her. Don’t be with me and talk to her on the side!

Charlie could feel his anger rising again. He couldn’t help it. He let loose. Me? You wanna talk about me having someone on the side? Fuck you! Charlie picked up a kitchen chair and slammed it on the ground, with a loud bang.

She scrunched her face up and pulled back a bit in a pathetic attempt to portray honesty. What are you talking about?

As soon as she made that face, Charlie knew she was hiding something. She always made that despicable face when she was lying.

Then he said it, I went through your phone. I know you’ve been talking to someone else.

The silence was earsplitting; a deafening chasm of nothingness that said much more than words could.

Well…I don’t know, Charlie. I’m not happy and neither are you. So what do you wanna do about it?

Charlie fumed. His arms went up in the air in a swift motion that would’ve landed his hands around her neck if he were only a few feet closer. A primitive and terrifying sound escaped his mouth as he took a step back, drawing deep calming breaths, examining his propensity for violence.

He gasped in shame as his eyes met the floor.

Sarah stood in silence, a sheen of disbelief glaring in her eyes. She turned away, unable to look at him.

With one last shove, Charlie relocated the end table, scattering the contents of her purse on the living room floor. He nearly stepped on her cell phone and the only framed photograph of the two of them as he stumbled to the front door.

Henry was standing in the living room of the little brown house. The grey panel board covered the walls, a crucifix staring down at him unapprovingly. He had seen crucifixes before. They were supposed to be a sign of comfort, or so he had been told once. Henry couldn’t understand why seeing a bloody man dangling helpless from a board was supposed to be comforting.

It was Sunday. Ms. Nash always baked a pie