Elijah Gray

As the night settled in, shadows stretched across the empty streets. The curiosity got me wandering around an abandoned house from the neighborhood. Its walls were cracked, the windows shattered, the air felt heavy... the smell was horrible, but something was urging me to open the door of this crumbling structure. The floorboards creaked beneath my weight, and beams of fading sunlight spilled through the holes in the ceiling, casting a dim glow over the remains of what maybe was once a vibrant home. As I stepped further inside, I found a room where the walls were covered in torn and faded wallpaper. In the center of the room, pressed against the wall, sat a boy with his knees drawn to his chest. He seemed to be around my age, perhaps younger. His shoulders trembled with silent sobs, his face buried deep in his hands as if he was trying to shield himself from the cruel world that had abandoned him. I froze in place, observing him. He was lost in his cries, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. I carefully took a step forward, then his head snapped up. His wide, tear-filled eyes scanned the room in desperation before finally landing on me. A flash of panic flickered on his face, and he pushed himself deeper against the wall. He tried to speak, but his words were broken and unsteady, managing to choke out: