The Boy Who Was Left Behind

17th December 2021 - Arbyshire, England

It was the last day before the winter holiday kicked in. At 2 PM sharp, the school bell rang to mark the end of the day. A loud cheer was heard coming simultaneously from all classrooms in St. John elementary school.

Within minutes, little children with their colorful school bags poured out into the courtyard while shrieking happily.

All of them wanted to go home as soon as possible to spend a well-deserved break with their families.

All but one boy who stayed in an otherwise empty first-grade classroom and gazed out of the window.

With golden hair and soft curls framing the oval face, he looked like a little angel who was bathing in the glorious sunlight that fell through the glass window. Only after he turned around would one see that his beautiful hazel eyes were misty with unshed tears.

Aiden Matthews, the first grader, slowly moved from his desk and sat on the floor with his legs drawn against his chest. He especially picked the corner under the window where the light could not reach him.

His mother used to be the one who picked him up from school, but his mother passed away a month ago. After that, the butler was in charge of picking him up every day.

Aiden was very close to his mother. He was too young to understand the concept of death, and his father did not bother to sit down with him to explain the situation before or after the funeral.

A maid ended up telling Aiden that his mother had gone to a faraway place, and was not coming back. When he asked why, the maid burst into tears so Aiden stopped asking.

The boy closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his knees.

Without his mother around, the house felt so empty and cold. Aiden comforted himself every day by reeling in the memories back when his mother was still around.

The teacup that his mother liked to drink from.

His mother's favorite apron.

His mother's favorite rocking chair.

She often sat on it while reading from a picture book with Aiden on her lap. When she passed, Aiden was not even at the height to climb onto the rocking chair on his own so he could only sit on a stool next to the rocking chair and read a picture book alone.

It did not feel the same, but Aiden did not know any better.

Starting from three days ago, some changes happened to the house.

The old pieces of furniture were replaced with new ones.

The old clothes of the late Mrs. Matthews were packed into boxes and donated to orphanages.

Even kitchen utensils and crockery were replaced with new, modern ones.

Aiden had only managed to hide away his mother's favorite scarf. It had been worn for so long that the initially vibrant pink color had faded into a duller color.

Other than the color, the scarf still felt comfortable to the skin and kept the owner warm, so Mrs. Matthews held on to it and wore it until her death.

Jack Matthews often criticized his wife for being too sentimental with old items.

"It's not like we cannot afford to buy a new scarf for you," he often complained, but the wife did not care. Aiden cared even less.

He liked the scarf.

When Aiden buried his little nose inside the scarf, he could smell traces of his mother's perfume.

Fearing that his father would go through his bedroom and throw away the scarf, Aiden brought it to school with him every day.

When he felt lonely, he would wrap it around his neck and think about his mother.

The little boy slowly opened his school bag and took out the dull pink scarf. He put it around his neck and buried his little fingers inside.

Last night, Jack Matthews suddenly brought two people into the house, a woman and a child that was only a year younger than Aiden.

Jack Matthews informed Aiden that he was going to marry the woman, so the woman was going to be Aiden's new mother. And the child, the child was going to be Aiden's new little brother.

When his father introduced him to these two people, he stood opposite him with the woman on his right side and the boy on his left side.

All of them looked at him with a broad smile, the kind of smile that people gave to a stray cat on the roadside.

Aiden was confused.

He had a feeling that the father he had up until then suddenly became someone else's father.

The house he had been growing up in suddenly became someone else's house.

He had become a stray cat in his own house.

So what was the point of going back to such a house?

Aiden was not in a hurry. Not that his father was in a hurry to pick him up before the holiday started. He had informed the little boy that the butler had to drive the woman and the child around for some last-minute Christmas shopping so Aiden might have to wait around an hour.

The little boy heaved a sigh as heavy as the planet earth itself.

Other children were distressed with the prospect of not getting the gifts that they wanted for Christmas, or not going to the places they wanted for the holiday, or maybe not getting as many pies and cakes as they wanted because they had to share with their siblings.

Aiden wanted none of that.

All he wanted was his family for Christmas.

Above all, he wanted his mother back for Christmas.

He remained there in a self-deprecating state, wondering what to do. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he did not notice when the last teacher on duty went around to lock the classrooms one by one.

Exactly an hour later, Aiden rose to his feet to leave the classroom and found that he had been locked inside the classroom. The teachers had all left. Only one little boy remained in the whole school.