Wishing For Oblivion
The heavy air of a long enclosed space weighed down on the boy; he didn’t mind. The nothingness of it all came as a solace to his young mind, as if, should he halt his thoughts effectively enough he might cease to exist.
Tiny legs pressed into a heaving chest, held tightly by scarred arms. His body became a ball, a stone. The boy held his eyes as tightly shut as he was holding his body, not that there was anything to see if his eyes were open. There was only touch and smell. He felt the hard floor, a box digging into his ribs, and dangling clothes brushing his head. Mustiness assailed his nostrils.
“Look in there, and I’ll…”
His heart raced like a hummingbird attempting a daring escape from his chest; clacking footsteps were drawing near, so near. He had nowhere to go but oblivion, and he didn’t know the way. The steps slowed but came closer, scraping with each step with ominous hesitancy.
“Colby? Are you in there, sweetie?”
She shouldn’t call him that. That was only for her.