The Changeling
A short story in
instalments
By Serendipity Says
Chapter one
John sighed as he fell onto the sofa.
Never in his life had he felt so drained! He reached for his cup of
tea and idly flicked through the photo album that he had found in the
cupboard.
He smiled as he looked at himself
playing on the beach, aged around 4. His Mother holding his hand as
he jumped over the little waves.
Ah, he used to love those holidays.
Being an only child had its advantages – no siblings to vie for
Mum's attention!
It had been a tough few months. His
beloved Mum had passed away around ten years ago, her body ravaged by
the cancer which had taken her life.
And then, his Dad! Suddenly and without
warning he had passed away from a massive heart attack!
John looked around at the home in which
he had spent his childhood.
And a strange childhood it had been in
many ways. Mum and Dad had never encouraged him to make friends,
never liked him to go out and play.
They had home schooled him, so apart
from routine medical appointments, he didn't really spend much time
away from the house until he had started work.
Now his parents were gone! It felt
bitter sweet. He missed them so much, after all, they had been his
life! But he also felt free. He could live his own life now, do what
he wanted. Make friends, maybe even meet a nice girl and settle down.
Between looking after Mum and working,
he had never felt the need to settle down. But now, in his early 50's
maybe it was time to change that at last.
This won't do, he thought, I still have
this rambling old house to deal with!
With no family, it had fallen to John
to pick through the house, looking for anything important, sifting
through the 'stuff' that had accumulated through the years.
He hauled himself out of the sofa. What
next! He thought. There's the attic. He had looked through most of
the house, but had left the attic. He hadn't been up there for years.
Goodness knows what rubbish he would find up there!
He climbed the ladder and flicked on
the torch and looked around in surprise. It was clear! There was
hardly anything there! He stepped out onto the floor and scanned
around. Nothing. Nothing at all! He had expected clutter everywhere.
He flashed his torch this way and that.
The light fell onto a small box, tucked right under the eaves at the
front. John picked his way across, treading carefully, as the
flooring looked rotten.
Finally he reached the box. It was tied
with a blue ribbon, dusty with age. What could be inside? Old photos
or documents?
He untied the bow and took off the lid.
A pile of newspaper clippings fell out. He shone the torch on them,
looking at the headlines.
Toddler missing, screamed one,
abduction, kidnapping! One after one he read the clippings. As he got
further into the box, the clippings got shorter. The half pages
became paragraphs, the paragraphs became a few sentences. It was as
though the newspapers had given up, lost interest.
Who was this toddler, had he ever been
found? Why had his parents kept the clippings?
At the bottom of the box, he found a
grainy photograph of a young boy. He shone the torch on it, trying to
see the photo more clearly in the darkness of the attic.
The child looked familiar somehow, as
though he had seen him before. Then realisation dawned and he dropped
the box!
This photo was going to change his life
for ever! His life as he knew it tumbled, like the newspapers
tumbling from the box on his lap, his mind reeled. What did this
mean? Could it be true?
No comments:
Post a Comment