The Invisible Friend

The pot noise falling overlapped the TV sound and woke the man suddenly. Annoyed, he tossed the empty beer can toward the kitchen. The only way to put up with the boredom of the life he led was to get drunk and sleep, but this process was interrupted abruptly. The woman was washing clothes in the small service area outside the house, so the one responsible for the noise was the boy.

  That boy weeping was up to something in the kitchen and would pay for it. For some time he had been looking for a pretext whatever to get that little bastard. The boy seemed to have nothing else to do in his miserable existence, only to disrupt him in his plans with his older sister.

In one leap, the man ran to the kitchen and pulled on the belt that held his frayed trousers.   He found the boy trying to pick up the pieces of the cookie jar. Upon realizing his entrance, The boy falls back. His eyes bulge with dread as he notices the belt in his hands.

— You have nowhere to run, boy. Today is your day. — said the man as he raised his arm, with an expression of hate in his eyes. The woman enters the kitchen at the last moment but says nothing. She does not want to antagonize the man. Merely look at it apathetic and expressionless manner.

— Get out of here! — He shouts at her in fury.

All the woman can do is roll her eyes and turn to leave. If for a moment, she thought to intercede in defense of her son, it would be difficult to say.

Her face expressed nothing, besides an almost bovine resignation in relation to what seemed inevitable. Yet there was still someone missing in that little domestic drama.

The girl soon appeared, attracted by his cries. Her eyes flashed with fury when she realized what was happening.

— What are you doing?

The man lowered his hand on his belt. He looked embarrassed but did not completely back away from his intention.

— Someone needs to educate this little bastard! —  Cried the man. He tried to control the situation, but he knew he had already lost.

The girl walked past him and hugged the boy.

— Go away. She said in a deceptively calm voice.

She had a moral superiority that he could not face without the risk of losing everything. He hated the boy even more for this and, at some point, it would make him pay dearly. Without an alternative that could protect his pretended dignity as head of that family, he turned to leave.

— You will die. — Said the little boy.

The man turned slowly and looked at him. Perhaps he could do well in that situation.

— Who's going to kill me? You? — He asked with a mocking expression.

— My friend said he'll kill you. — Answered the boy. He spoke with a conviction that surprised the man for a moment, but he reassembled himself.

— What a Friend? The one who lives under his bed and no one else sees?

The Boy did not answer. He merely looked at the man defiantly.

— Go away! –  Repeated the girl.

The man turned again to leave. and came face to face with the woman. This time she did not lower her eyes. Had he noticed a slightly ironic gleam in that look? He was imagining things. She would not dare so much, he thought. With a shrug, he left the kitchen,   architecting various modes to end that annoying brat.

He had long thought of this, but he had not yet found a sure way to get rid of the boy. Without his gaze following him around the house all the time, the girl would not escape. She was the only reason she approached the window . That old hag had never been part of his plans.

Plans that had always been very vague, but that now he felt that they were clear in his mind, as well as the urgency to implement them.

Several hours passed as if it were minutes in his mind. The plan soon formed in detail and he only had to buy what he needed and wait for the right moment. It would be the last time he would wait to solve that. He was impatient and passed the time in the best way he knew: in a bar, drinking and playing pool with some suckers. The drink did him good, and if he still lacked some conviction, doubt no longer existed.

Just after midnight, he was standing in front of the house where he lived. He cursed the lock when the mechanism moved, though no one had heard. He entered the house as quietly as possible, but his heart racing seemed to make a noise able to wake up the demons in hell, but no one appeared in the room.

The boy's room was ajar and it would be easy to enter without being perceived. Carefully he opened the ether bottle and soaked the cloth which he had brought. Although the liquid dripped between his fingers, he spilled a little more to ensure it. The plan was to kidnap the boy, without anyone being able to determine the moment that this might have happened. This was an important detail to validate the alibi he had. Making his victim disappear without a trace was the tricky part of the plan, but the boy was small.   If he is unconscious it would be easy to shove him into a sack and then throw his body into the sea, tied to a weight.

After looking around, to make sure he was not being observed, he entered the room and saw and saw the boy sitting on the bed looking at him in the gloom. There was no fear in his eyes and it disconcerted him. It even looked like the boy was waiting for him and knew what he was up to.

— I brought you a gift. – He spoke awkwardly, by hiding his hands behind him, embarrassingly aware of the smell of ether that invaded the room.

He hoped the kid was sleeping. With him awake, the plan was much harder to execute, but he felt he could not go back. That second lost in indecision kept him from noticing the boy got up and slipped nimbly under the bed. It irritated him deeply. Why the kid always found a way to irritate him

— Come here, you nagging brat! — He shouted as low as he could. — You will not escape me under that bed.

The Man slipped under the bed, but could not find the boy. He turned and looked around, but the boy seemed to have disappeared from the room without a trace. That was too good, of course. The boy had to be hidden somewhere and all he had to do was to look carefully and not make a sound.

Suddenly his attention was drawn by a slight sway from the closet door. The door was ajar as if someone had forgotten to close it completely. The boy was hiding inside the wardrobe.  This realization made him grin wickedly triumphant, although I had no idea how the bastard went in there, without him having seen it. That did not matter. He slipped into a place that had no way out and made his own end.

He pulled the door to the closet and slipped his hand through the hanging garments. He found nothing and was furious when something held his hand. Terrified he tried to break free but was pulled in violently. Before the pain, he heard the bones of his arm being crushed and screamed, then went into shock, but still remained conscious long enough to realize that he was being eaten alive. Then he lost his senses.

In bed, the boy stared at the closet door for a moment. Then he turned on his stomach. He pulled the blanket over himself and fell asleep soon after as if nothing had happened there.

For a long time, the room was silent, until the closet door opened and the boy's sister came out from within, she lifted her arms and burped as if she'd swallowed the food