CRUMPLED ON THE GRAVEL BELOW the lighthouse, the boy rubbed his lip with his finger. But the softness didn’t soothe his heart. The storm had dissipated fast, but it wasn’t any solace. His sorrow had dug a chasm inside him and drained his tears. He didn’t even have enough energy left to cry.
Why hadn’t he climbed onto the boat? Why hadn’t he swum out after it?
Because he was weak. A scaredy-cat. A chicken. That was why. He hadn’t even seen the monster in the ocean, not actually, and its hunger still terrified him.
He had made a boat to sail past the monster—but hadn’t trusted that he could.
He sniffed back the thickness in his throat and stared up at the lighthouse. It had been his last hope of finding his parents. His brother needed him, and he’d let Ollie down.
“Why’d you bring me here?” he shouted to the top of the lighthouse. His despair flared into anger, and his hands closed into fists. “You gave me hope.”
The lighthouse didn’t reply. It just stared straight ahead, at nothing.
The boy shook his head and dug his toes into a patch of grass.
The lighthouse wasn’t to blame; it was as lonely as he was. It had once been loved, been taken care of, and now it was abandoned and neglected too.
No, he was to blame. The bully had been right about him all along. The boy didn’t want to believe it, but it was his fault he was alone.
And now he was going to stay alone.
His broken heart told him so.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” he shouted to the bully. “Don’t you want to tell me how brainless I am? What a coward I am? Come on. I know you’re right.”
But the bully was silent.
Anguish washed over the boy again. And this time, he sobbed. He didn’t care about being strong anymore. He wasn’t strong. He didn’t even have his blanket. He had lost everything.
Except . . .
He reached into his pocket and felt the piece of fabric. He still had that. But it couldn’t help him.
The Wolf might as well come and eat him. He was too weak, too useless, too much of a waste. The Wolf should drill its glowing green eyes into him. Dig its claws into his flesh. Tear his loser legs and arms with its pointed teeth.
“You win,” the boy whispered. “Come and scare me. Come and eat me. No one will care.”
But the beast didn’t come. Not even a leaf stirred in the trees.
“Even the Wolf doesn’t want me,” the boy said.
He collapsed on the ground, staring at the puffy white clouds drifting above him. None of them had stopped to help him. They saw him below—alone and scared—but they floated past. And when he needed them the most, they turned black and vicious.
Then a flash of brown swooped over him from the Green Wall. Flapping wings, pointy ears.
“Hoo.”
The boy jumped up. The owl! It was the baby owl he’d rescued in the tree. It had followed him here. Maybe he did have a friend after all.
“Hoo.”
The owl circled above him, then flew to the lighthouse and perched on the railing at the top. Its big eyes looked down at the boy, but it didn’t come closer. “Hoo,” it said, like it was trying to tell the boy something. “Hoo. Hoo.”
The boy fell onto his knees, his knuckles grating on the gravel. “I don’t know what you want,” he told the owl. “I can’t help you anymore. I can’t even help myself.”
Maybe the bully was right. Maybe his parents hadn’t looked for him. Maybe they didn’t want him. Why should they, when he was nothing?
Just a small boy stuffed full of fear.
His mother had read him stories. His brother had made him laugh. And his father . . . he was supposed to show his father something. The boy had probably let him down. Just like he’d let himself down. He’d never show his father now, and his father would never love him.
He would never be good enough.
“RRRRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRR!”
The boy trembled. Eyes wide, he curled himself around his knees and put his hands over his ears.
The Wolf!
It had come up behind him. He had called it. Dared it to eat him. And it had listened.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
The ground shook with each of the Wolf’s steps.
Closer to the boy.
Closer to the boy’s demise.
He shivered uncontrollably. Coiled tighter. As small as he could be. Squeezed his eyes shut.
Boom. Boom.
The beast stomped closer. Its hair grazed the boy’s legs. Its breath seared the boy’s skin. Its drool sizzled on the boy’s cheek.
He felt a sharp sting. The tip of the Wolf’s claw sliced into the boy’s shoulder.
This was it.
This was the end.