The Little Boy had Always Known

The Little Boy had Always Known

No one else knew. No one else could ever know. His secret. His past.

Only he knew.

From the darkness he watched the world from afar. A forgotten little boy, a child with a secret. The grown man had forgotten that day so long ago, he had forgotten the terror of consequence. He had forgotten what the little boy had done.

No longer would she ever laugh.

The day the little boy stopped being a little boy.

Never again would she run over the logs and rocks of the forest ground.

Never smile, never cry.

Never run from danger.

The grown man did no longer remember, but the little boy could never forget. Trapped in his prison of fear and sorrow he clung to the memory of himself. Every once in a while he laughed. An evil giggle even the grown man could hear, that made his blood freeze to ice.

He knew the little boy was there. He had always known. He had always known that some day the little boy would be back.



  1. I’m currently reading The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks and your piece fits nicely with the experience. I imagine you’re evolving into a book my friend, perhaps, if you’ve not already, you might take a glance at his Science Fiction; working under the name, Iain M. Banks?

    Fabulously creative.
    Thank you. AF א

    Liked by 1 person

      1. No, in my mind, I just thought that if Stephen King ever wrote a novel about a psychopath (say the nutjob who was involved in the Las Vegas Massacre), he might start a novel about such an individual in this intriguing fashion.

        About a little boy in the dark who had always known…

        As a friend and fellow blogger remarked about the Las Vegas shooter, “His dark heart was an unholy place…”

        Liked by 1 person

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