Date: Thu, 9 Jul 2009 22:19:21 -0400
From: Francois wizard <neo_akira58@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Forgotten Boys   Chapter 1 of many

Disclaimer:

The following story contains graphic sexual scenes between underage boys.
If material of this nature offends you, then you should not read this
story. Additionally, if the law where you live forbids you to read such
stories you should not read this story.

This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to persons living
or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. Don't
forget this is a story, not everything that is done here is legal so I
claim no responsibility on the actions the reader might do as a result of
reading this story. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no
duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by The Nifty
Archive, without the express written consent of the author.

This is my first story published on Nifty Archives.  I hope that you will
enjoy it. If you like the story and want me to post the more installments,
please email me at neo_akira58@hotmail.com Comments also welcome.

I want to thank the regulars from #niftywriters chat room and forums at
http://www.niftywriters.org/forums and my friend Jamie for their support
and suggestion for the story and for their editing of it.  Visit us if you
want.


The Forgotten Boys
Chapter 1


	I woke up that morning hurting and aching everywhere.  I was
outside in what seemed to be an alley.  The air was cold and crisp.  I
slowly got up seeing dried blood and scabs all over my body.  I looked like
I had been beaten up badly but I didn't remember any of it. I didn't
remember anything, not even my own name, or where I was.
	I looked around and found a backpack near me.  I pulled the bag
closer I looked inside.  There was a wig in there and other strange stuff
used to disguise people.  Was I trying to disguise myself?  Maybe!  But
why?  There was a mirror in the bag.  I took it out to take a look at
myself.  I had blond dirty hair with dried blood all over it.  I seemed to
have a beautiful but girlish face hidden behind that huge black eye and the
cut and dried blood on my other cheek.  My teeth seemed to be fine with
none missing or felt chipped.  My shirt and pants were maculated with
blood.  Both were torn in some places and sticking to me most likely from
the dried blood; they would probably hurt to remove at this point.  I
didn't seem to have any major broken bones, maybe a couple of fingers that
were quite painful but no bones showing out of them.

	It looked like I was a well built boy, not tall I would say five
feet six or so maybe a hundred and twenty pounds probably around thirteen
years old.  I had no idea why I was beaten or if this is what happened
actually, I could have been dropped here from another location or even
thrown out a window into this alley, but since I couldn't remember anything
about it I did not know.  I didn't even know if I had parents.  Judging by
the state of my clothes, maybe I was a street boy.  Around my neck there
was a necklace.  Looking closely at it I found it was an eagle and engraved
in it the name "Alexander".  I guessed it might be my name.  In my pants
pocket, I had a solid Swiss army knife and what seemed to be some small
picks.  Why did I have these things?  Was I a thief?  Right then I couldn't
answer those questions.

	It was early in the morning.  I had trouble walking, slowly limping
my way out of the alley and into the city street, with the backpack in my
arms.  I was hungry.  I didn't have any money on me or a wallet for that
matter; maybe that was the reason I was in this state this morning.  People
were walking by me, trying to ignore me or ignoring me altogether.  I
didn't know where to go and walked around aimlessly.  I wandered around a
bit longer before I spotted what looked to be a church a few blocks down.
I didn't know why but I started walking toward it.

      I opened the church door shyly and slowly stepped inside.  It seemed
like no one was there.  I took a few more steps inside.  Someone grabbed my
shoulder from behind surprising me and frightening me at same time.  The
man, still holding my shoulder, got around me to face me so I could see
him.  He was dressed in a black robe so I guessed he was a priest.  He bent
himself to be more face to face and started talking to me:

- What are you doing here?

- I am not sure.

- What's your name?

- Alexander I think.

- You think?

- Yes but I am not sure.

- What happened to you?

- I don't remember.

- You expect me to believe you don't know what happened to you when you
come in here in this state?

- I guess not, but I truly don't remember.  I started tearing.

- Where are your parents?

- I don't know either.  I was now sobbing.

- Come with me then let's get you cleaned up and then I'll take you to a
doctor.

	The priest guided me through the church and down a long hallway,
all the way to a bathroom where he started running a bath.  He told me to
take a bath giving me soap and shampoo.  He told me to call for him if he
was needed; he was just going to find me some clothes to wear to replace
the bloody ones I had. I told him I was hungry and the priest answered once
I was clean, he would bring me something to eat.

	I got in the bath first with my clothes on since the scabs and
dried blood were making the clothes stick to me and I didn't want to try
removing them till they were less sticky at least a bit, it would probably
be painful and start bleeding if I wasn't careful enough removing them.  It
took a while soaking in the bath to manage to get my clothes off.  I
reopened a few wounds but didn't bleed too much even if some of them hurt
doing it.  Then I soaked a while longer before I started washing all that
filth off my body and hair.  The more I washed the more I was able to see
the wounds all over my body.  My arms and legs were the worst but I also
had some on my head face and back that I could see in the mirror.  Once I
washed as best as I could, without hurting myself too much, I stepped out
of the bath feeling slightly better but a lot cleaner.  The priest knocked
on the door and handed me clothes he had found for me from I don't know
where and I didn't ask.  I put them on and looked at myself in the mirror.
My blond hair was now clean and beautiful, my face was yellowish on my left
cheek and my black eye was on the right side.  The clothes fit me almost
perfectly so I left the bathroom and followed the priest to the kitchen.

	While I was eating a sandwich, the priest started talking to me
some more: "I am Father Corey.  I want to take you to the doctor once we
are done here so he can check you out properly and make sure you will be
okay.  After that is done we will go to the police station to see if you
have been reported missing and someone is looking for you.  Once this is
all done, we shall see what will be next for you."  I nodded my head to say
it was okay.  We left a few minutes later.

	After waiting a few minutes in the doctor's office waiting room, we
were called inside his examining room.  The doctor started by making me
strip to my underwear and took pictures of all my injuries, so they were
documented for the police just in case.  Since I couldn't remember what
happened, if it had been my parents, or if I remembered and wanted to press
charges in the future we would have evidence.  Once he was done with this
part of the report, he started looking me over closely.  He found first
that I had a broken finger in my left hand and taped it to help it heal.  I
also had a couple of bad bumps on the head, one of them was more than
likely the reason for my temporary memory loss.  The scan on my head was
telling him my brain was swollen slightly and once back to normal it was
likely my memory would be back within a few days.  I was thinking the
sooner the better.  He took care of bandaging and working my cuts and
bruises for a while, since I had so many from my legs to my head.  The
doctor completed his report and made a copy which he gave to the priest to
bring to the police station.

	Father Corey took me to the police station where we found out no
one had reported me missing yet.  Maybe it was my parents that had done
this to me, so of course they wouldn't be reporting me missing, after all I
was left for dead with no ID on me.  It is also possible I didn't have
family and was a street kid, an orphan.  Until my memory came back there
was no way for me to know.

	Later that day Father Corey took me to children social services.
They would keep me until they found my parents or a family to live with
while they tried to find them.  Father Corey told me I would be safe; they
would take care of me here, so I thought to myself I might be.

	It didn't take long for me to find out this wasn't a good place.
They had sent me to a place the boys were forced to work; some were beaten,
and not well fed.  After two days there, I was already planning my escape
from this new kind of jail.  It could have been because of these kinds of
places that I was on the street in the first place.  I wanted to take the
poor boys out of this place with me but I sure couldn't at the moment; not
yet anyway.  Those poor orphans or street boys were taken advantage of and
maybe more.  I prepared my things and got ready to make my move to escape
this prison.

	We were locked in our rooms at night.  That third night there, I
knew it was time for me to split.  That night I found out I was an expert
in lock picking.  I didn't know yet how or why I unlocked the door so
easily but it was clear that I had done this before.  This is a strange
skill to have.  I got out of my room quietly and quickly found my way out.
I did have to knock out the guard by the entrance but since I came from
behind silently he never saw me coming before it happened.  I ran to the
city street quickly, getting as far away from that place, happy to have
gotten out this easily.  I was sad about leaving all those other boys
there.  I wanted to find a solution on getting them out of there safely.
Since none of the boys knew of my plan of getting out of the centre they
would not find out I was missing until the morning probably, giving me long
enough to get far away so they wouldn't find me.


I was alone again in the middle of the night, but for some reason I wasn't
scared at all, just happy to be free.  But what would I do now?  Thinking
about earlier and how easy it was to pick the lock, maybe I could use this
talent to help myself.  While I was in my thoughts, two men reeking of
booze came up to me one behind me the other cutting my path in front.

- Hey kid, give us your money.

- I don't have any money

- I don't believe you!

  The guy in front of me grabbed me.  I immediately reacted instinctively
grabbing his arm turning his wrist the wrong way and punching him in the
nose breaking it with my other hand.  The second man tried immediately to
grab me from behind and I kicked him making him fall on his ass.  I kicked
the guy in front of me in the balls and he went down hard.  The second guy
got up and pulled a knife to try to stab me.  I dodged the blade grabbed
his arm pulling him closer and kneed him in the balls. He bent forward. I
kicked him in the face making him fall back onto the ground.  I went and
grabbed both their wallets and kicked them a couple of time each.  I
grabbed the knife on the ground and left them there.

	I was again alone in the night with no real plan on what to do
next.  I wandered around town trying to avoid the cops so I wouldn't be
sent back where I just ran off from.  My thoughts were filled with a lot of
questions left unanswered.  Who was I exactly?  Where, when and how did I
learn to fight like this?  I was confident I could do anything I wanted but
didn't know why.  Was I even from here in the first place?  What was I
supposed to do now?  Where was I supposed to go?

	All these questions stayed in my mind while I fell asleep at the
bottom of a tree in the park I ended up walking to.

To be continued
Enjoy,
Email:   Neo_akira58@hotmail.com

Wizard
Forgotten Realities