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MidReal Story
The Boy Who Never Grew Up
Scenario:As this boy stared into my eyes, I couldn’t help but feel attached. He seemed like a normal teenager as I, but I could clearly see he wanted to be a child once again. And I was stuck taking care of him.
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Ashly
I looked into his eyes as he stared back at me.
He had the biggest most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen.
They were as clear as the ocean on a sunny day.
I couldn’t help but feel attached to him already.
He looked like he could be around 10-12 years old with messy curly blonde hair.
He wore a white shirt and blue shorts.
He looked at me with his big blue eyes open wide.
Like a doll.
"Hi," I said, trying to make him feel comfortable.
He didn’t say anything; he just kept staring into my eyes.
"Um, I’m going to go get some coffee," I said, turning around slowly.
As soon as I turned, he said, "Wait!"
in a voice that sounded like an angel’s.
"I’m not going anywhere," I said, turning back to him.
"I promise."
"What’s your name?"
He asked in his sweet angel voice.
"My name is Lena... um... no. I mean Ashly," I said, still turned to him.
"Why?"
He asked, looking confused.
"My sister’s name is Lena," I said, turning and walking to the kitchen.
"You look like Lena," he said, following me into the kitchen.
This was going to be a long day.
I poured coffee into my favorite mug, and he stood behind me with his small fingers still gripping my sleeve.
The kitchen was starting to feel a little cramped with him constantly hovering over me.
The steam rose as I poured in the creamer, and I could see his reflection in the microwave door.
Those blue eyes were still staring at me as I moved.
My hand trembled slightly as I stirred the coffee.
Lena used to make my coffee for me.
He tugged on my arm again, this time a little harder.
The spoon clinked against the ceramic mug as I set it down on the counter.
"Can we play a game?" he asked in a whisper.
I froze, gripping the counter edge.
Lena would spend hours playing board games with him.
"Sure," I said, turning to him.
I led him to the living room, and there was Lena’s old chess set still sitting on the coffee table.
It was covered in a grey film of dust.
I wiped it off with my sleeve.
She used to spend hours teaching me strategies.
The boy sat cross-legged on the floor as I arranged the pieces.
His eyes lit up as I set them down.
He reached for a white pawn but froze, looking at me for permission.
I nodded, and he moved his pawn to e4.
Lena’s opening move.
His small fingers hovered over each piece before moving it, just like Lena did.
"How do you know that move?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes and said, "Lena taught me before she left."
My heart skipped a beat as I whispered, "When did you last see her?"