Smile - Prologue

It was a cold December night; Christmas was approaching. A little boy sat on his bed staring out the window up at the stars. Every night he sat there and made a wish through tearful eyes, but every day it seemed it had made no difference.

But that never stopped a determined little boy before, especially a sad one.

Every night he’d clench his fists tighter and his eye lids tighter still. He thought the tenser his body was, the more likely it would work.

“I wish, I wish,” he would always begin. “I wish I didn’t feel so alone. I wish I had a friend, someone who felt like me, someone who could stop everyone picking on me.”

There must have been something different that night, maybe there was magic in the air, because that was the night everything changed.

The boy was sure something had moved in the room behind him; did a shadow just run across the wall? He turned back to look but there was nothing there.

Suddenly he heard a familiar creak from the corner of his bedroom. he turned in time to see the wardrobe door slowly open. Getting up from his place by the window, the boy walked tentatively over to it.

It was very dark inside the wardrobe, maybe darker even than the rest of the room, maybe darker even than any darkness there ever was. Though he couldn’t see a thing, the boy dare not turn the light on for fear of his father’s wrath. He was always worse if he'd been woken up.

The boy tried squinting but that didn’t help.

There appeared to be no other choice; he would have to reach in with his hands and feel if anything was there.

I can do this, the boy told himself. Nothing could be scarier than the school bully or father when he’s drunk, or the old man who owns the funeral parlour next door.

The boy slowly reached in with one hand and watched as the darkness began to swallow it piece by piece. First his fingertips, then his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, his elbow…

How far back did the wardrobe really go? He was sure he should have felt the back by now. He wiggled his fingers this way and that, seeing if he could feel anything before going deeper. Unfortunately he could not. So deeper his arm went. The darkness had now nearly reached the boy's shoulder. He turned to his side and continued, but even slower now. The darkness was almost to his face, any second the tip of his nose would pass the black curtain. He was ever so slightly beginning to panic. And just as his face was about to be completely consumed, his middle finger scrapped gently against something.

The boy yelped and quickly pulled backwards but it seemed to come with him. He fell to the floor and shut his eyes as something scratched across his cheek. Not knowing what else to do he proceeded to kick and punch at the thing that almost seemed lighter than air. His hands eventually sent a signal to his brain and he opened his eyes to see his assailant; a metal coat hanger caught up inside his favourite blue and red t-shirt.

Suddenly a light blinked on in the hallway, followed by the loud thump of footsteps that meant father was awake and coming towards the bed room. The bedroom door flew open and in a single bound his father was standing above him, staring down at him with a rage the boy knew only too well.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing boy” It was his father’s booming voice.

All his son could manage was, “I’m sorry."

The boy’s father grabbed hold of him and dragged him over to his bed.

“What have I told you before about waking me” he shouted.

“I’m sorry.”

The father raised his hand and the boy closed his eyes, accepting the inevitable.

But the inevitable never came. He opened one eye and looked up. His father just stood there, he looked like he was shivering.

“You’re not worth it” he said, “you’ll only wet the bed.”

He laughed and then just as quickly as he had entered the room, he was gone.

It was then that the little boy allowed himself to cry; he didn’t want his father to see him cry.

“I wish, I wish, I wish,” the little boy said again through tear soaked eyes. “I wish I did have a friend then I wouldn’t be alone anymore.”

Suddenly the boy was sure he felt someone’s cold breath against his ear and then a whisper

“You won’t be alone anymore,” the whisper said “I will protect you.” 

60 years later…

Adam ran as fast as his legs could carry him. It was dark and the route was slippery. Three times he'd stumbled; once nearly into a huge green bin full of god knows what. But he kept on going. He couldn’t risk stopping, not even for a second. What a hell of a way to spend Christmas week, running for your life.

The town seemed quiet except the cars up ahead in the town centre. If Adam could reach it, maybe someone could help him. He only had a couple more alley ways to clear, out of the darkness into the light.

As Adam ran across the last empty street to the alley that would lead him to safety, he heard a noise. What was it? Was it them? Had they found him?

He continued to run but the urge to turn and look was overpowering. But if he turned, what would he see? Would they be far away or right up close? Were they right behind now, so close they could touch him? Was that their breath on his neck, their eyes boring into the back of his head?

Adam could feel tears. This wasn’t how he wanted to die, wasn’t how he wanted to be remembered.

Reaching the end of the alley was like stepping out of Dorothy’s house into Oz, from the dark drab alleyways to a street full of light and colour and life. Shops with Christmas displays, a huge lit tree. Customers in their dozens, bags filled to the brim with presents and wrapping paper.

He had made it. Adam was safe. He finally managed to stop running. He stood there in the middle of the road and circled round watching everyone carrying on as usual. It strangely seemed an amazing sight. Adam glanced over to the dark alley. Was there something there, just beyond the darkness, staring back at him?

Suddenly there was the sound of a car horn and the screech of brakes. Then Adam's world went black.

Adam was in a darkness he had never known before, but it felt peaceful. For a time Adam wondered how he got here, then he remembered the snow and the lights, the Christmas tree and, oh a car. Shouldn’t he be in pain or something? But his body didn’t even ache. In fact he wasn’t even sure if he could feel his body.

Panic should have been setting in about now, but it wasn’t. Why wasn’t it?

Adam’s mind started to wonder backwards to before he ran into a car. Yes, that was it; he had been running. But running to or from what?

Before his mind could work it out any more, Adam heard a voice. Far off to start with, but then it became clear. It sounded like his brother Peter. What was he doing in this darkness?

“Adam. Can you hear me?” Peter’s voice called into the black. “Can you open your eyes?”

Adam didn’t realise they were shut. It took him all his might to open them. It was like they were made of lead. It took a couple of attempts and the left lid gave up halfway but he finally managed to look into the hazel eyes of his brother Peter.

Peter’s eyes looked back. Everything else seemed a bit hazy. Adam tried to speak but his mouth didn't seem to want to put the effort in.

“Alright Ads” said Peter through a blurred mouth.

Adam tried to speak again. But he couldn’t.

“Let me get a little closer, you probably can’t see me” said Peter as his blurred features came closer into view. He was smiling.

Adam suddenly had a flash of a memory. Peter’s smile had triggered something. And then he remembered. He used all his strength to tell Peter but it was so difficult.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Yes, Adam screamed inside his head. He tried one final time, used everything he had left.

“All-”

“Yes Adam?”

“-s-miles” But then the last of his energy was gone. Peter’s hazel eyes darkened and became the same as everything else in the room, black.

To Be Continued Tomorrow...

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Every episode has an unofficial music track for it. 
As this whole series is called Smile, this song suits perfectly.