There was once a Boy

This is a continuation of the story that Intern Ian began writing. If you missed the first half of this story, you can find it below this one. 


“That’s why you can’t ever leave” The woman in front of the boy was leaning back in her giant plush chair. A book that sat on her lap looked almost exactly like her. It was worn, the pages receding and turning up towards the ash covered roof. Uncomfortable purple splotches were invading all the corners of the book, trying to infects its heart. The boy had seen woman holding the book before, but never had he had a chance to see it so up close.

” So…. This book belongs to me? I made this place?” The woman was gaining in years. She was once very beautiful, just like the book she was once laced in gold. Her eyes could see the love in everyone else’s. Of course, that was the beginning of her life and now her gold hair has turned gray and fragile. She had called one of her newest creations into her house, his orientation had yet to be complete.

” Yes, the book has a tendency to take away memories… it’s the price one pays for the power of creation.You made me to remember for you. So you don’t forget the rules.” The boy began to imagine what would have happened had he tried leaving the town with his book. He imagined everyone he loved, vanishing and decaying. A whole fantastical town dead.

“Have I left before? Is that why there are so many cemeteries in this town?” Oh, the cemeteries. The old woman remembers the day she created those, that was the same time the sun and the stars both ran away from the town. Now only a perpetual night remains. Of course, she wrote in all her new characters to think that that was normal. However, they always noticed the cemeteries, she couldn’t seem to write that bug out.

” No, some of your original characters were very violent, unaccepting  of the situation that they found themselves in. They thought they owned the land, that you were too powerful. It was unfortunate but they had to be dealt with.” The boy could only nod his head. These people needed help. He felt love for many of them, so that should mean something.

” Do they know that they were created?” The woman stifled a laugh. She tried that once and it had some very mixed results. One of them even managed to steal her book. That had been the only time she ever left the town willingly. The book had started to fall apart during that time. The woman assumed it was because she and her tool was getting old. It was not.

” No, that is what led to violence the last time. You must promise that you won’t let the others know. We can’t have a repeat of last time. I believe that we’ve written on enough tombstones.” The boy felt something tugging at his soul, but his soul, but his body could only nod in agreement. After sometime, he left the woman’s house with a smile om his face, a knowing, pained smile stapled to the faces of every person left in the town. #InternHannah


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