Yesterday's Mirror

In the St. Dobson’s Boarding Home of Pogsley Bay, Linus was a bit of an outcast. He found himself to possess a dissociative comportment in regards to the other members of the lodging. Unlike most of the other children, he had a dislike for playing and games, to the extent that one could say he was hideously unfond of them. Now, on any average day in St. Dobson’s, let alone any boarding house for the youth of the world, the children would be out playing in the yard, too busy with the cares of who’s it, or hopscotch to bother with the whims and woes of society. It was on these very same average days that young Linus would find an excuse to remain indoors. He would sit alone in the attic of the boarding house, watching the other children though a small, cracked, circular window that was in desperate need of a proper cleaning and defogging. This bizarre and somewhat frightening tendency of his to sit there unblinking, regarding the other children from above was commonly known. When ever a member of the town would walk by on their way to market they would mutter to themselves “there’s that Linus boy again…just sitting there staring.” His routine was very unsettling for the town’s people who found his ever fixed mark by the attic window to be quite unhealthy. What the other people didn’t seem to understand was what went through small dear Linus’ head whilst he sat there watching the other children. He didn’t simply mope and pout, or wish them ill. His sentiments were quite the contrary, and infact were of a joyous nature. For despite not enjoying running about in the yard, Linus still had a great deal of imagination floating around inside his skull. He would sit there and play games of his own, watching silently as animals, pirates, and trolls ran about chasing each other. Infact, Linus’ fascination with the outside world became so great that he ceased going outside all together. He would rarely stray from his small, jagged window, sitting there watching the world and gazing into how he perceived things to be. On many occasions the head of the boarding house attempted to lure him outside, but after a five month vigil at the window, it was apparent that Linus wouldn’t move, so they just let him be, and pretended he wasn’t there. Pretending he didn’t exist however became more and more difficult as attention is easily drawn to a small boy sitting, unmoving peering out at one through beady eyes behind an eerie window. Eventually the towns people came to regard the boarding house as taboo, afraid of the small unshifting form they saw piercing them as they walked pass. So it came to be that Tubdun street became a empty place, many citizens adding an extra twenty minutes to their foot route to avoid coming across Linus, or the shadow child, as he came to be known. Even eighty seven year old Agatha Bittlestew would carve an enormous three mile wake around the place, straining her shot hip, just to avoid the Linus’ lurking gaze.

Finally after almost three years of solitude amongst the embrace of the attic, the townspeople merely forgot all about Linus, and tended to go about their own way. True, he remained in the window every spare moment of his life, but ignoring the lad had become second nature for every resident of Pogsley Bay. The street saw traffic again, but it was minimal at best, as most people had been so accustomed to avoiding it, they didn’t stop. Some forgot why they never passed down Tubdun street, and frankly the though never crossed their minds as they merrily went about their lives, now oblivious to Linus’ constant birds eye presence. Eventually, the children found play in the front yard tedious, as the cobble street was now second to the patch of turf added around back of the boarding house. Soon Linus lost the pleasures of looking out into the world, as there was hardly anyone about, and the fact that his view had receded due to the hindrance of ever branching Alder Buckthorn trees.

Then, on one fine November day, through a slight breeze Linus got up from his seat and went downstairs. Silently he opened the front door of St. Dobson’s Boarding Home, and proceeded to step outside. He had grown quite unfond, infact, one could go as far as saying hideously unfond, of sitting about all day watching an ever shrinking near emptiness. So, he decided to go outside for the first time in eight years. From the second his feet touched the cobbled steps outside of the boarding home he felt free. Linus inhaled some sweet Tubdun street air, and smelt the distinct scent of Celandines, which unbeknownst to him had been planted the season before by Mrs. Bittlestew. He enjoyed the fresh smell of these previously unknown flowers, and gaze about him, enjoying the cool breeze blowing against his face. He took in the beauties of the once forgotten outdoors, seeing no longer what he invented, but something much broader and more beautiful than the capabilities of his mind, he saw life for the first time as it truly was. He turned to see the small window in the top of the boarding house attic, curious as to what had been the allure to have trapped him there all those years. Linus winced at the filthy cracking window pane, wonder why he had been so entranced to sit in the dark attic for nearly a decade. That was when he noticed a set of eyes looking back, he stared in disbelief. In the window sat a small, pale boy, gazing at Linus through deep brown eyes, in a manner he found most unsettling and creepy. Surely Linus thought he was seeing a younger version of himself, sitting there silently, watching. He wonder how this might be, and what the boy was thinking, was he imagining Linus as an animal or a pirate? Linus stood there gazing back, as again curious thoughts danced in his imagination, and then he was abruptly hit by a car.