The Boy in the Closet

“Mom will we be okay,” I asked

“Yes my sweet boy,” she said

“Where’s dad,” I said

“He had to go to a meeting,” she said with a cold smile

I could tell by my mothers tone, something was wrong.

“Umm… Liam hide in the closet don’t make a sound,” She said

“Okay mom,” I said with fear on my face

I huddled in the corner of my closet, clutching my knees to my chest. The darkness was stifling, but I dared not move. I had heard the window downstairs slide open, followed by the almost imperceptible sound of footsteps.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. I strained to hear anything beyond the closet door. Was it just my imagination, or had I actually heard the muffled scream of my mother? I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to be invisible.

The creaking of the stairs was unmistakable. Whoever was in the house was coming closer. My breath caught in my throat as the footsteps stopped right outside my bedroom door. I could see the sliver of light beneath the closet door as the room was illuminated. Then, a shadow moved across the light, and I bit my lip to keep from gasping.

The door to my closet creaked open slowly, and I stifled a cry. Standing there, framed by the dim light of my room, was a man dressed in black. His face was obscured by a mask, but his eyes were cold and unfeeling. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable.

“Found you,” he said, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the closet with terrifying strength. I stumbled, trying to resist, but he was too strong. As he dragged me out of the room, I caught a glimpse of my mother’s lifeless body on the floor, her eyes wide open in a final expression of fear.

Tears streamed down my face as the assassin hauled me through the house. I didn't know where he was taking me, but I knew that my life would never be the same.

The assassin shoved me into the backseat of a sleek black car, its leather seats cold against my skin. He climbed in beside me, and the car roared to life. My heart was still pounding, the horror of my mother's lifeless eyes haunting my every blink.

For a while, we drove in silence. The city's lights blurred past the windows, a stark contrast to the darkness that had descended on my life. I felt the man's gaze on me, and I couldn't help but shiver.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked suddenly, his voice slicing through the quiet like a knife.

"L-Liam," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, as if committing it to memory. "Liam, your father messed with some bad people. Really bad people. He owed them, and when he couldn't pay up... well, you saw what happened."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Why... why did you take me?"

He sighed, a sound that seemed almost weary. "I was hired to kill him and his family. That includes you. But I've been in this business a long time. Seen a lot of things. Sometimes... sometimes you gotta make choices." He glanced at me, his eyes softer than before. "I'm taking you in. It's not much of a life, but it's better than what was waiting for you."

I didn't know what to say. The fear, the grief, and the confusion were all too much. Instead, I just nodded, my mind numb to everything that had happened and everything that was to come.

The car slowed to a stop in front of a modest, nondescript house on the outskirts of the city. It looked surprisingly normal, almost cozy, with a well-kept lawn and flowerbeds lining the walkway. The assassin got out and motioned for me to follow. My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to move, stepping out into the cool night air.

He led me inside, where the warmth and light of the house felt jarringly out of place given everything that had just happened. The interior was neat and organized, with simple furniture and no personal touches. It was a place meant for function, not comfort.

"Make yourself at home," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. "This is where you'll be staying."

I stood awkwardly in the living room, unsure of what to do or say. The assassin disappeared down a hallway and returned with a glass of water, which he handed to me. I took it gratefully, realizing just how thirsty I was.

"What's your name?" I finally asked, my voice still shaky.

He paused, then shrugged. "You can call me Alex."

Alex motioned for me to sit on the couch, and he took a seat opposite me. His eyes, now devoid of the earlier coldness, seemed almost... human.

"Listen, Liam," he began, leaning forward. "Your life has been turned upside down, and there's no easy way to say this, but you're going to need to adapt. Fast. The people who hired me won't stop just because your father's gone. They may come for you eventually."

I nodded, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

"I'm going to train you," Alex continued. "Teach you everything I know. How to fight, how to think, how to survive. With these skills, you'll have a chance to get revenge for your family. To make those responsible pay."

Revenge. The word echoed in my mind, mingling with the images of my mother and the horror of the night. I didn't know if I wanted to be an assassin, but the thought of avenging my family gave me a sense of purpose. A reason to keep going.

"Okay," I said, my voice stronger now. "I'll do it."

Alex nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. "Good. Training starts tomorrow. Get some rest."

As I lay in the unfamiliar bed that night, my mind raced with everything that had happened and everything that was to come. I knew my life would never be the same, but maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to make things right.

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