On a crisp autumn morning in the middle of Thanksgiving break,
Stephen Whitefield briskly strolled back from local breakfast diner with with
his parents and his friend Bryce Martinez.  His parents dropped them off at
Bryce’s house.  It was a small but cozy one-story house with white walls and a
large living room and kitchen. The living room had brown carpet and a
three-seat fluffy brown couch.They quickly greeted Bryce’s mom and hurried
down the narrow hallway off to his room. Bryce quickly shut the door, which
confuse Stephen because he and his parents were pretty close.He pulled away
the large wooden dresser to reveal and old trapdoor.
“Hey dude! I found this last week when I was trying to get a shirt I got
and I didn’t check  what was inside.” Bryce squealed.
“Wow thanks man, lets see what this little treasure holds!” exclaimed
Stephen.“Well, it is a locked trapdoor so we have to find a way to open it,”
whined Bryce.
Well then what are we waiting for?” said Stephen “Wait, what? Hold on.
I just realised that this thing must be at least 12 years old!  Because I
have lived here since I was born. That means this trapdoor is older than me.”
They quickly shuffled out of his room to go find a screwdriver to
unscrew the hinges. The outsides of the trapdoor had a red floral design laced
with green and a much more faded light blue on the outside.They began to
shuffle back in when Stephen stopped Bryce at the door and said,
“shhh. Listen Stephen,” shushed Bryce.
“Move very silently.” As they began to shuffle side by side into the
room. As they began to approach they heard a creaking noise, as they
began to round the corner they heard another creaking noise. The
creaking began to fall into a pattern like nervous pacing. It was like squeaking
hardwood worn away from years of use and weight.
“Stephen do you hear that? whispered Bryce.
“Of course I hear it” said Stephen “Because you are the one that is making the
creaking noise.” “No not that Stephen the rustling noise.” Whispered Bryce
  As he listened he could hear the faint scrape of a stake on wet dirt. Little did
he know that that noise was coming from underneath the house.
“Wait for me Bryce I will go grab the flashlight.” Stephen said “Don’t go  to the
trapdoor without me. We have no idea what could be in that thing.” As
Stephen wandered down the cold stone garage
to grab the flashlight, as soon as Stephen left,  Bryce quickly
hopped over the loose bedsheets and unscrewed the hinges. When the hinges
were undone the trapdoor fell inward to reveal. A large dirt tunnel that lead
beneath the house. Bryce was swept off his feet by loose dirt and tumbled
down the tunnel into a 12 year old boy. The tunnel was poorly lit and only got
light from a lamp and the light from Bryce’s room.
All he could make out was a dark muggy dirt tunnel with loose roots
and  barely lit at all. The light barely let you see your hand in front of you. As
he began to stand his head began to spin. All he could see was the outline of
human child about his height  was his clothes and that he was
a young mexican boy about 10-13 years old The boy made quick work of him
about his height and weight.
Brown hair and full face but did not have the apparent wooden bat with a
large wooden spike  it the face
that Bryce had. As he stripped off Bryces clothes he noticed Bryces shirt was
covered in his blood.
smudged with dirt. He then took his clothes and scrubbed his face off the best
he could with limited time and took Bryces’ clothes and began the then foot
climb back to the trapdoor. He had done this many times but never leaving
until the whole of Bryce’s family had left. It was a direct vertical climb that
was under complete darkness until the last foot or two. As he emerged he
began going over how he was to get Stephen in tunnels without alerting
Bryce’s family. 
“Hey Bryce where is your flashlight? Ummm how come you are so pale. Did
you open the trapdoor? Wait a minute you’re not Bryce! Mr.Martinez!.” said
Stephen  “MMMPPH” said Stephen as the boy from the trapdoor tackled him
and brought him back into the room.
“what are you doing.” he whispered I am trying get some help and you go try
to turn
me in to some big mexican dude? All that I want is to get out of this town. So
let me leave in peace and I will be on my way.” His eyes were shimmering
with unshed tears and filled with desperation.
”Ok fine, but before you leave what is your name?” questioned Stephen.
“My name is is Oshwa Miller. Oh yea before I leave uh your friend is in the
tunnels under the trapdoor. I’ll be off then, cya...sucker!” As he ran out
the door  he slipped and braced on the wall and said “Do you have any food?”
“Get out of this house! NOW!” Stephen called the police described the boy and had a few medics
come and check on Bryce. As Stephen was being questioned he was thinking
only about the reason why he was so desperate to get out out the town.
”This town is nice right?” muttered Stephen as he picked at the damp frosted
grass. “What Son?”said one of the medics. 
“Nothing nothing I was just thinking outloud. Maybe i should try that some
more these days.”  muttered Stephen.
“Boy do you always mutter to yourself or did you hit your head because all I
heard was something bout’ you thinking out loud more.” Said the medic.
“Here, get up I will get you in the ambulance check to make sure this incident
did not damage your brain.”
“NO! Get away.” he screamed “I don't want any help I just want this all to be
over the guy is gone there is no point in anyone other than Bryce and parents
to be here so just get out! I’m going home do your questioning on some other
kid you traumatized with this whole ‘INCIDENT’ as you call it.” “Wait, kid I
wanted to tell you that your friend did not make it out. The bat he was hit
with was slightly sharp on the side and pierced through his skull into his
brain. I’m sorry son but life just is not fair. “  But Stephen stopped listening
and just stared off and made up his mind and kept walking when the man was
done.  As he trampled some of Mrs.Martinez's new flowers he was washed
over with that sense of helplessness. He just sat down pulled at his hair and
  on their lawn began to cry, not loud but the kind where only the person
sitting next to you can barely hear the silent weeping and the ragged breath..
Which is why when he got picked up and brought to the hospital by the medic
he did not bother to put up a fight.  As he was picked up he was held close to
the medics chest  and was set down in the large roller beds in the back of the
ambulance.He came back the next day with diagnosed traumatic early
childhood stress condition.
“I am sorry to inform you Mrs.Whitefield but your child is dealing with
a form of traumatic early childhood stress. where the brain has recently suffered a
large incident and has not been coping well  with this incident.” Said the
doctor. “But I will refer you to a psychologist to help him deal with this horrid
condition on such a young mind. But I am sorry to say he will never be the
same.”
Stephen hopped off the hospital bed onto the cold tile floor. The air conditioner was
blowing hard enough that it send a paper spiraling down. Stephen bent down to pick up the paper he began to feel a wave of nausea come over him. He began to twist and and
stumble, running into the wall plaster wall and falling shoulder first on the floor.

“Momma, what is wrong with me now? I can't walk straight, I can't bend over, I
can't tell the difference from left and right. What is wrong with me!? I can't tell what
is real and what is just a dream! Did Bryce really die?”
Mrs.  Whitefield smiled sadly and said “There is nothing wrong with you dear. Just think about how I will always be here for you.”
Stephen sniffed and and said “I know but I already miss Bryce.
“Bryce was just chosen to go to heaven with his grandparents and be happy
there. I bet he is still wishing he could come and play with you right now.” Stephens mom said soothingly”
“Really mom?” said Stephen sadly
“Of course Stephen. Come on, your dad is somehow more worried than me” said his mom.
And they walked and walked down the long hall slowly and silently until Stephen said “you know what, I am happy that dad is worried. He is going to be so happy to see me! And that is all I need.” As they walked out the long wood door onto the soft grass they crossed the grey stone fountain and to the car. Then they drove home