The Lost Boy Read Online Free PDF

me it seemed like a giant log cabin with lots of open windows. I could see that behind the home was a huge backyard, where sounds of screeching and laughter echoed by the tiny creek.
    The elderly woman who ran the temporary foster home introduced herself as “Aunt Mary” and greeted me at the kitchen door. I thanked the police officer with the strongest handshake I could. I felt bad that he had worked overtime for me. He knelt down and said in a deep voice, “David, it’s kids like you that made me want to become a policeman.” Without thinking, I grabbed his neck. The moment I did, my arms felt as if they were on fire. I didn’t care. “Thank you, sir.”
    “Hey, kid, not a problem, ” he replied. He then strolled up the curved walkway and saluted me from his car before driving off. I didn’t even know his name.
    After Aunt Mary fed me a delicious dinner of filet of sole, she introduced me to the seven other children who, like myself, for one reason or another no longer lived with their parents. I stared into every one of their faces. Some eyes were hollow, some full of worry, others full of confusion. I had no idea there were other unwanted children, too; for years I had felt I was all alone. At first I acted shy, but after a few questions from the other children, I opened up. “What are you in for?” they asked. “What happened to you?”
    I bent my head down before replying that my mother didn’t like me because I was always in trouble. I felt ashamed. I didn’t want to tell them the secret about Mother and me. But none of that mattered to any of them, for I was just another face in the crowd. I was instantly accepted. I felt a surge of energy erupt from inside. From that moment on I became a wild child. I blitzed through the home as if my pants were on fire. I joked, laughed and screamed with joy, releasing years of solitude and silence.
    I was uncontrollable. I ran from room to room, jumping on every mattress in the home. I bounced so high my head banged again and again against the ceiling. I didn’t stop until I saw stars. I didn’t care. The other children clapped their hands, egging me on. Their laughs were not cold, like the snide remarks reserved for me back at school, but were full of delight and approval.
    My frolicking ended suddenly when I ran through the living room, nearly knocking over a lamp. By reflex, Aunt Mary grabbed my arm. She was about to scold me until she looked down at me. I covered my face, and my knees began to shake. Aunt Mary was a strict, elderly woman who stood her ground, but she didn’t yell as she was known to do. For that evening my hyperactivity ended as quickly as air could escape a balloon. Aunt Mary released her grip and knelt down, asking, “What did she do to you?”
    “I’m sorry, ” I stuttered in a low voice. I was still unsure of Aunt Mary’s intentions. I retreated into my protective position. “I was a bad boy, and I deserved what I got!”
    Later that evening Aunt Mary tucked me into bed. I began to cry, explaining to her that I was afraid Mother would come and take me away. She assured me I was safe and stayed with me until I felt secure. I stared up at the dark cedar ceiling. It reminded me of the old cabin in Guerneville. I fell asleep knowing that Mother was out there, somewhere, waiting to get me.
    Alone in my dreams I found myself standing at the end of a long, dark hallway. A shadowy figure emerged at the opposite end. The figure transformed into
The Mother.
She began to march toward me. For some reason, I stood still. I couldn’t move; I didn’t even try. The closer The Mother came, the more her red face, filled with hatred, came into focus. The Mother held a shiny knife above her, poised and ready to strike me down. I turned and ran down the endless hallway. With all my strength I pumped my legs as fast as I could, searching for a light. I ran forever. The hallway twisted and turned as I hunted for an escape. I could feel The Mother’s