The Fire Within

I raised a boy and he grew up and became a man with extreme possessiveness.

And now he had imprisoned me.

I lay on the vast bed, staring blankly at the crystal chandelier above.

He approached gently, but his eyes were bloodshot as he stared at me, "Be a good girl, and eat this."

The oatmeal was still steaming.

I turned my head weakly to look elsewhere.

I vaguely remembered the time he was ill, and I personally fed him a bowl of gruel.

What a fiend!

If I had known he would become this deranged, I would never have let him go.

I would have ensured he died a terrible death.

...

1.

That morning, I woke up groggily to find a small figure curled up beside my bed.

Startled, I jumped up, grabbed the porcelain cup from the nightstand, and hurled it.

The small figure stood up just in time for the cup to hit its head with a "thud," and blood immediately began to trickle down, covering half of its face.

I panicked. What was happening?

It was then I realized it was a little boy! His long, thick eyelashes and dark pupils were fixed on the shattered cup on the floor.

I was overwhelmed with guilt.

"I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean to." I said, rushing over barefoot and reaching out to check his wound. The boy, frightened, quickly backed away, losing his balance and landing on the floor.

He slowly looked up, and I saw the most beautiful child in my life!

He had chiseled features and trembling delicate lips.

Suddenly, his whole small body began to shiver.

I was again overwhelmed with guilt. Help! Kids never seemed to like me.

I opened the door and hesitantly called out. "Mother, why is there a little boy in my room? Whose child is he?"

She glared at me. "What child? Get up already! It's almost noon, and you're still lazing around. I shouldn't have let you go to school! You're going to get married off anyway. It's better to have you work and support your brother!"

I kept pointing at the boy, insisting he was there.

She looked again in the direction I pointed. "Where? There's nothing there! You better get the cooking and laundry done now, and pick up your brother from school tonight."

So I brought my sister over, pointing at the boy. She scratched her head and said she didn't see anything and then ran off to play.

I was so stunned.

But instead, a strange feeling crept in, reminding me of the movie about spirits I once watched!

What should I do? I should probably go to church and pray to the god.

I was a person who acted on impulse, so I immediately put on my shoes.

Suddenly, I heard a familiar "grumble" behind me, the sound of a hungry stomach.

I stopped in my tracks, turned around, and quickly wiped the blood off the boy's face with a tissue. "Hungry, aren't you?"

The boy began to sob, his small face turning red as tears fell, his eyes rimmed with red.

I found some iodine to disinfect the wound and brought him a bowl of oatmeal. He ate it slowly between sobs.

So, he must be human.

I picked up the boy, and a few rolls of yellowed paper fell from him. As I was about to pick them up, he slipped from my arms, hiding the papers behind him like a thief.

"Alright, I won't look. Do you want to rest for a bit?" I caught a glimpse of the word "Phil".

The little boy ignored me, his dark eyes blinking as he crouched on the floor.

What a situation this was.

Forget it. I needed to pick up my brother from school first.

2.

That evening, I kept watching the little boy. He wouldn't speak or let me touch him.

I deliberately brought many people into the room, my grandfather, my cousin, and my friends. And they all said they couldn't see him!

Oh my, I was completely bewildered.

It was already dark, and I was a bit scared. I turned to see the little boy asleep on the floor.

His small, thin body made me easily pick him up, and I intended to take him to the guest room. I didn't dare let him sleep in my room.

As soon as I stepped out of my room, he became weightless! His body turned almost transparent and suddenly vanished!

When I turned back, he was still lying on the floor in my room in the unchanged position!

My scalp tingled!

Tears nearly welled up as I took a deep breath.

No matter what, I had to figure out what was going on!

I hurried over to him. "Wake up. Hey." I shook him gently.

Feeling him shiver, I touched his hand, which was icy cold. It was indeed cold in mid-December.

Gritting my teeth, I placed him on the bed, tucking him under the thick quilt. Only after then did his body temperature return to normal.

This little boy was about the same age as my brother.

I felt a bit sorry for him. Where were his parents? Why did he mysteriously appear in my room? Why did he turn transparent when leaving my room and then reappear inside? What the hell was going on?

However, one thing was certain.

He must be human!

Or perhaps it had something to do with those rolls of yellow paper and the word "Phil".

I lifted the quilt to check on him, but there was nothing. The yellow paper had vanished!

As I pondered, the little boy suddenly opened his eyes, his dark pupils fixed on me.

Startled, I withdrew my hand, nervously stepping back. He soon fell asleep again.

Alas!

The next morning, I groggily sat up and instinctively looked to the side. What was going on? He had grown taller!

If he was five yesterday, today he was seven.

Oh my!

He woke up too, looking at me with a soft gaze and seemingly without yesterday's wariness.

We stared at each other for several seconds. "Are you hungry?"

What was I asking? Shouldn't I ask him who you are, where you came from, and where you're going?

I was bewildered, but the next moment, I understood the situation.

He couldn't hear or speak.

Alright, I had no choice but to accept it helplessly.

Then I went to school.

3.

When I got home, the little boy looked at me with eager eyes, his long black eyelashes blinking pitifully.

He was very dependent on me.

Alas, my maternal instincts were overwhelming!

During this time, I was constantly scurrying between school and home, worried even during meals.

Every noon, I had to go back to bring him oatmeal. It was really tiring.

Manfred Cobbett, my senior, was super cool playing basketball, with six-pack abs.

Even he noticed my poor mental state, advising me not to stay up late and to take care of myself. He even asked if something had happened recently.

Should I tell him about the mysterious boy who appeared in my room?

I had to borrow money from Manfred to buy clothes for the boy.

He was growing too fast. Today he was nine, and tomorrow eleven.

I couldn't let him stay naked.

I didn't know what kind of clothes he should wear, so I based it entirely on Manfred's taste, saying I wanted to buy clothes for my brother for the future.

My brother's clothes were never my responsibility to buy, and Manfred just praised me for being a caring sister.

Looking at myself in the mirror, was I really deranged?

4.

The little boy, no, the big guy now, looked at me with innocent puppy eyes.

At his growth rate, he might become an old man in my room in a few months.

He looked about fourteen now.

His handsome face had a gentle grace, with skin better than mine, smooth and delicate. Was it because he kept eating oatmeal?

For the past half month, I had been talking to him, constantly chattering, but he still seemed unable to hear anything.

I sighed, wondering if he was simple-minded.

4.

In the middle of the night, I vaguely heard a male voice. "Cold. I'm cold."

I was immediately startled. The big guy spoke!

That meant the mystery could finally be solved!

I was eager to wake him up, but his always-closed eyes showed no sign of opening.

I touched his face, which was cold.

I planned to get some hot water to wipe him down.

Just as I withdrew my hand, he grabbed it, rubbing his face and head against it.

It tickled, and I could feel his eyelashes fluttering in my palm.

Oh my, he was so adorable!

My maternal instincts were overwhelming again.

With my excitement fading and him clinging to my hand, I couldn't go get hot water.

His body was still cold. What should I do?

Forget it. I closed my eyes and lay down, hugging his body.

His body was trembling, and his breathing grew heavier, the warm breath blowing on my neck.

I held him tighter, patting his body. "I'm here with you. Sleep now..."

I soon drifted off to sleep as well.

The dawn broke, and I woke up early.

I had to figure out what was going on!

6.

He had grown taller, with delicate skin, alluring eyes, and a delicate nose.

He looked at me timidly, as if waiting for me to speak.

"I'm asking you, who are you? Where do you come from? Where are you going?"

I stared at him for a good ten minutes as he slowly clutched his head, seemingly trying hard to think.

Oh dear!

He lowered his head slowly and said, "I don't know."

I asked again, "Where are your rolls of yellow paper?"

He looked up at me slowly, as if pondering my question. Every time I asked a question, it took him about ten minutes to answer.

His thinking was sluggish.

Forget it. I should first work on his ability to understand and respond.

"Who are you?"

He remained silent.

"Where do you come from?"

He remained silent.

"Where are you going?"

He remained silent.

Speechless, I decided to call him Phil. It was the word I saw on his paper.

Initially, he didn't understand when I called him that and never turned around.

Later, whenever I entered the room and shouted "Phil", he would turn around, those alluring eyes silently watching me.

His body seemed to have stopped growing, but every midnight, he would shiver from the cold.

I ended up holding him to keep him warm, so I wouldn't be woken up by his trembling.

In summer, it was fine. Holding his cool body was quite comfortable.

But in winter, I didn't want to do so anymore.

Every day, I would ask and shout at him. "Who are you? Are you Phil?"

"Yes." Came the sound from his nose. Finally, he showed some reaction.