The sky above shone bright with the midday sun, playing red through closed eyelids. The boye blinked and squinted up at the cloudless sky. Trees waved in the distance and the cool grass danced with the breeze. As far as he could see, he lay alone in the park. The boy moved to sit up but a thumping in his head convinced him to stay down a bit longer. When he did finally sit up he noticed a worn book sitting in the grass beside him.

“Where did you come from?” he asked and picked it up.

The thick leather cover had long since lost any distinguishing marks it may have once possessed. The title page had been ripped out and replaced by a another piece of paper. It read:

Project: The God Child

Status: Discontinued

Subject Name: Removed from documentation

Age when Adopted: 3 Years

Age when Released: 10 Years

Purpose for Release: Loss of primary functions

“The God Child?”

Images of a large room with a sloped floor and men in shadowed corners flashed in the boy’s mind followed by a bright red light. His head felt as though it had been split open and he screamed. The book fell forgotten in the grass as he struggled against the nausea and delirium that followed.

“Hey,” a voice called out. “Are you okay?”

He looked up at the worried face of a woman approaching him. She held a small baby in her arms and a pair of twin girls clung to her legs. His head still throbbed but the sharpness was gone and he let go of his head.

“Where’s your mom?” the woman asked.

He thought but no memory came. He shook his head.

“You’re dad?”

Again he thought, and again no memory formed. He looked down and hot tears began to flow down his cheeks as fear began to grip him. The more he tried to remember anything, the more aware he became that he had no memories.

“Oh dear.” The woman said and knelt beside him, gently patting his back as she pushed a lock of the boy’s black hair out of his face. “Is that your Bible?” She asked, running her hands over the cover of the big leather bound book he’d found.

He shrugged, not knowing what a Bible was.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

The boy opened his mouth to answer her but nothing came as he found yet another gap in his knowledge. She looked around in the hopes of spotting whomever the boy belonged to.

“It’s okay, I’m Cynthia, the girls are Mary and Anna and this little guy is Matt.” She said, pointing to each in turn.

One of the twins began to tug at her mom’s sleeve. “I wanna go home.”

“We will sweetheart, but first we need to help this young man. Now, where do you live?”

He shook his head over and over. With each question it only emphasized how little he knew.

“I don’t know,” he said at last through a constricted throat.

“Well, is it in the city?” Cynthia asked.

“I don’t know,” he said again.

The other twin joined her sister and they both tugged at their mother.

“Well, if you’ll tell me your name I might be able to help you.” Cynthia’s voice became edged with impatience. She looked around the park again but saw no one.

“Probably a runaway.” he heard her say, though her lips didn’t move.

“I am not.” He shot her an angry look.

“Not what?” Cynthia asked.

“You called me a runaway.”

“I did not. I asked you what your name is.”

Cynthia stared hard at him as she waited for an answer.

“You better not be lying.” Cynthia’s voice was angry but again her lips didn’t move.

“What?” He pulled away from her.

“What is your name?” Cynthia’s patience had all but been used up as the twins continued in their attempt to drag her away.

“I can’t remember.” he cried. “I just woke up and my head hurts.”

Cynthia’s eyes widened. The twins even quieted down, though more out of shock than anything else.

“Maybe we should call the police, then.”

Cynthia pulled out her cell phone and dialed. The boy looked back down as Cynthia stood, explaining the situation to the person on the other end of the line. The twins followed her and he was left to stare down at his lap. The book, or Bible, still lay in the grass where he had first dropped it. The piece of paper that had replaced the title page had come loose and stuck out. He picked up the Bible and opened it to put the paper back in when I noticed something handwritten on the back of it.

Trust no one. Hide.

“Sunrise Park, that’s right.” Cynthia nodded along with whatever she was being told.

“Hold him there,” he heard a new voice say. “We’ll be there to pick him up as soon as we can.”

Panic gripped him and he ran, Bible in hand. Cynthia cried out but her children prevented her from pursuing at any great speed. The boy crossed the distance to the trees and sprinted through only to find more open lawn before a highway that separated the park from the rest of the city.

Sirens and lights grew close but he didn’t think they were for him. Cynthia and her children neared the trees. He fell to the ground and curled up in as tight a ball as he could manage. There was nowhere to hide.

Please don’t see me. He begged, knowing it was useless even as Cynthia came and stood by him.

He shut his eyes tight as the sirens passed by. Seconds ticked by and became minutes and still the boy stayed where he was. Eventually, several sets of heavy footsteps approached.

Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.

“Are you the one that called about the boy?” One of the men asked.

“Yes, but he ran away from me.” Cynthia said.

“Any idea where he may have gone?” The man asked her.

“I thought he came through those trees but if you didn’t see him, I don’t know where he could have gone.”

The boy looked up from his curled position. None of them was looking at him.

“We’ll spread out and look.” The man in charge said. “He may be hiding up a tree.”

They began their search even though he was right in front of them. One man stayed behind while the others searched. Were they really not seeing him? He stood up and faced the officer that was standing among the trees. He looked straight ahead, never flinching as the boy waved his hand at him.

“Hello?” The boy ventured.

No response.

“Hey.” He said, a little louder. “HEY!”

The officer remained unaffected.

“Poor kid.” Cynthia’s voice sounded like she were standing beside him but when the boy turned to look she was on the other side of the trees.

“Probably some kid skipping school.” Another man’s voice sounded close by on the boy’s left but none of the other officers were close enough to have spoken.

“I wonder if Susan’s busy tonight.” The officer nearest the boy hadn’t moved his lips but it had to have been his voice. He smirked and checked to see if anyone was watching before he pulled out his cell phone and began texting.

I can hear their thoughts, the boy realized. And I can hide from them in plane sight.

How or why he could do these things, he didn’t know. All he knew was that they couldn’t see or hear him and he could read their thoughts. That realization did not bring him much comfort and he left Cynthia and the officers behind as he left the park