The Forgotten Boys

Disclaimer:

The following story contains graphic sexual scenes between underage boys. If material of this nature offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if the law where you live forbids you to read such stories you should not read this story.

This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. Don't forget this is a story, not everything that is done here is legal so I claim no responsibility on the actions the reader might do as a result of reading this story. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by The Nifty Archive, without the express written consent of the author.

This is my first story published on Nifty Archives. I hope that you will enjoy it. If you like the story and want me to post the more installments, please email me at neo_akira58@hotmail.com Comments also welcome.

I want to thank the regulars from #niftywriters chat room and forums at http://www.niftywriters.org/forums and my friend Jamie for their support and suggestion for the story and for their editing of it. Visit us if you want.

The Forgotten Boys Chapter 1

I woke up that morning hurting and aching everywhere. I was outside in what seemed to be an alley. The air was cold and crisp. I slowly got up seeing dried blood and scabs all over my body. I looked like I had been beaten up badly but I didn't remember any of it. I didn't remember anything, not even my own name, or where I was.

I looked around and found a backpack near me. I pulled the bag closer I looked inside. There was a wig in there and other strange stuff used to disguise people. Was I trying to disguise myself? Maybe! But why? There was a mirror in the bag. I took it out to take a look at myself. I had blond dirty hair with dried blood all over it. I seemed to have a beautiful but girlish face hidden behind that huge black eye and the cut and dried blood on my other cheek. My teeth seemed to be fine with none missing or felt chipped. My shirt and pants were maculated with blood. Both were torn in some places and sticking to me most likely from the dried blood; they would probably hurt to remove at this point. I didn't seem to have any major broken bones, maybe a couple of fingers that were quite painful but no bones showing out of them.

It looked like I was a well built boy, not tall I would say five feet six or so maybe a hundred and twenty pounds probably around thirteen years old. I had no idea why I was beaten or if this is what happened actually, I could have been dropped here from another location or even thrown out a window into this alley, but since I couldn't remember anything about it I did not know. I didn't even know if I had parents. Judging by the state of my clothes, maybe I was a street boy. Around my neck there was a necklace. Looking closely at it I found it was an eagle and engraved in it the name "Alexander". I guessed it might be my name. In my pants pocket, I had a solid Swiss army knife and what seemed to be some small picks. Why did I have these things? Was I a thief? Right then I couldn't answer those questions.

It was early in the morning. I had trouble walking, slowly limping my way out of the alley and into the city street, with the backpack in my arms. I was hungry. I didn't have any money on me or a wallet for that matter; maybe that was the reason I was in this state this morning. People were walking by me, trying to ignore me or ignoring me altogether. I didn't know where to go and walked around aimlessly. I wandered around a bit longer before I spotted what looked to be a church a few blocks down. I didn't know why but I started walking toward it.

I opened the church door shyly and slowly stepped inside. It seemed like no one was there. I took a few more steps inside. Someone grabbed my shoulder from behind surprising me and frightening me at same time. The man, still holding my shoulder, got around me to face me so I could see him. He was dressed in a black robe so I guessed he was a priest. He bent himself to be more face to face and started talking to me:

• What are you doing here?

• I am not sure.

• What's your name?

• Alexander I think.

• You think?

• Yes but I am not sure.

• What happened to you?

• I don't remember.

• You expect me to believe you don't know what happened to you when you come in here in this state?

• I guess not, but I truly don't remember. I started tearing.

• Where are your parents?

• I don't know either. I was now sobbing.

• Come with me then let's get you cleaned up and then I'll take you to a doctor.

The priest guided me through the church and down a long hallway, all the way to a bathroom where he started running a bath. He told me to take a bath giving me soap and shampoo. He told me to call for him if he was needed; he was just going to find me some clothes to wear to replace the bloody ones I had. I told him I was hungry and the priest answered once I was clean, he would bring me something to eat.

I got in the bath first with my clothes on since the scabs and dried blood were making the clothes stick to me and I didn't want to try removing them till they were less sticky at least a bit, it would probably be painful and start bleeding if I wasn't careful enough removing them. It took a while soaking in the bath to manage to get my clothes off. I reopened a few wounds but didn't bleed too much even if some of them hurt doing it. Then I soaked a while longer before I started washing all that filth off my body and hair. The more I washed the more I was able to see the wounds all over my body. My arms and legs were the worst but I also had some on my head face and back that I could see in the mirror. Once I washed as best as I could, without hurting myself too much, I stepped out of the bath feeling slightly better but a lot cleaner. The priest knocked on the door and handed me clothes he had found for me from I don't know where and I didn't ask. I put them on and looked at myself in the mirror. My blond hair was now clean and beautiful, my face was yellowish on my left cheek and my black eye was on the right side. The clothes fit me almost perfectly so I left the bathroom and followed the priest to the kitchen.

While I was eating a sandwich, the priest started talking to me some more: "I am Father Corey. I want to take you to the doctor once we are done here so he can check you out properly and make sure you will be okay. After that is done we will go to the police station to see if you have been reported missing and someone is looking for you. Once this is all done, we shall see what will be next for you." I nodded my head to say it was okay. We left a few minutes later.

After waiting a few minutes in the doctor's office waiting room, we were called inside his examining room. The doctor started by making me strip to my underwear and took pictures of all my injuries, so they were documented for the police just in case. Since I couldn't remember what happened, if it had been my parents, or if I remembered and wanted to press charges in the future we would have evidence. Once he was done with this part of the report, he started looking me over closely. He found first that I had a broken finger in my left hand and taped it to help it heal. I also had a couple of bad bumps on the head, one of them was more than likely the reason for my temporary memory loss. The scan on my head was telling him my brain was swollen slightly and once back to normal it was likely my memory would be back within a few days. I was thinking the sooner the better. He took care of bandaging and working my cuts and bruises for a while, since I had so many from my legs to my head. The doctor completed his report and made a copy which he gave to the priest to bring to the police station.

Father Corey took me to the police station where we found out no one had reported me missing yet. Maybe it was my parents that had done this to me, so of course they wouldn't be reporting me missing, after all I was left for dead with no ID on me. It is also possible I didn't have family and was a street kid, an orphan. Until my memory came back there was no way for me to know.

Later that day Father Corey took me to children social services. They would keep me until they found my parents or a family to live with while they tried to find them. Father Corey told me I would be safe; they would take care of me here, so I thought to myself I might be.

It didn't take long for me to find out this wasn't a good place. They had sent me to a place the boys were forced to work; some were beaten, and not well fed. After two days there, I was already planning my escape from this new kind of jail. It could have been because of these kinds of places that I was on the street in the first place. I wanted to take the poor boys out of this place with me but I sure couldn't at the moment; not yet anyway. Those poor orphans or street boys were taken advantage of and maybe more. I prepared my things and got ready to make my move to escape this prison.

We were locked in our rooms at night. That third night there, I knew it was time for me to split. That night I found out I was an expert in lock picking. I didn't know yet how or why I unlocked the door so easily but it was clear that I had done this before. This is a strange skill to have. I got out of my room quietly and quickly found my way out. I did have to knock out the guard by the entrance but since I came from behind silently he never saw me coming before it happened. I ran to the city street quickly, getting as far away from that place, happy to have gotten out this easily. I was sad about leaving all those other boys there. I wanted to find a solution on getting them out of there safely. Since none of the boys knew of my plan of getting out of the centre they would not find out I was missing until the morning probably, giving me long enough to get far away so they wouldn't find me.

I was alone again in the middle of the night, but for some reason I wasn't scared at all, just happy to be free. But what would I do now? Thinking about earlier and how easy it was to pick the lock, maybe I could use this talent to help myself. While I was in my thoughts, two men reeking of booze came up to me one behind me the other cutting my path in front.

• Hey kid, give us your money.

• I don't have any money

• I don't believe you!

The guy in front of me grabbed me. I immediately reacted instinctively grabbing his arm turning his wrist the wrong way and punching him in the nose breaking it with my other hand. The second man tried immediately to grab me from behind and I kicked him making him fall on his ass. I kicked the guy in front of me in the balls and he went down hard. The second guy got up and pulled a knife to try to stab me. I dodged the blade grabbed his arm pulling him closer and kneed him in the balls. He bent forward. I kicked him in the face making him fall back onto the ground. I went and grabbed both their wallets and kicked them a couple of time each. I grabbed the knife on the ground and left them there.

I was again alone in the night with no real plan on what to do next. I wandered around town trying to avoid the cops so I wouldn't be sent back where I just ran off from. My thoughts were filled with a lot of questions left unanswered. Who was I exactly? Where, when and how did I learn to fight like this? I was confident I could do anything I wanted but didn't know why. Was I even from here in the first place? What was I supposed to do now? Where was I supposed to go?

All these questions stayed in my mind while I fell asleep at the bottom of a tree in the park I ended up walking to.

To be continued Enjoy, Email: Neo_akira58@hotmail.com

Wizard Forgotten Realities