About this book

The Boy Who Was Erased

THE BOY WHO WAS ERASED Chapter One The Message at Midnight At exactly midnight, my phone vibrated. almost ignored it. Almost. Rain tapped against my bedroom window, soft at first, then harder, like someone impatiently knocking from the other side of the glass. I reached for my phone. One new message. Unknown Number My heart skipped. I opened it. «Do you remember me?» I stared at the screen. For a few seconds, I thought it was a joke. Then another message appeared. «You promised you wouldn't forget me.» LMy fingers went cold. I didn't know the number. I didn't know the person. And yet, something about those words made my chest hurt. I typed: Who is this? The reply came immediately. «You really don't remember me?» I swallowed. No. Who are you? Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. Finally, the message arrived. «I'm the boy who died seven years ago.» Ll I stopped breathing. Seven years ago. I was twelve then. A child. I searched my memory, trying to find a face, a name, anything. Nothing. Then another message appeared. «My name is Noah.» The name hit me strangely. Not like a name I'd never heard. Like a name I'd forgotten. I sat up in bed. L"Noah..." I whispered it aloud. Something inside me moved. A memory. A flash. A boy standing beside a lake. Dark hair. A crooked smile. His hand reaching toward mine. Then— Nothing. The memory disappeared before I could hold onto it. My phone vibrated again. «Don't tell your mother.» LMy stomach tightened. I stared at those four words. How could a stranger know my mother? I typed: How do you know my mother? This time, the reply took longer. When it finally came, my hands began to shake. «Because she was there the night they erased me.» I couldn't move. Thunder rolled outside. I read the message again. Then again. They erased me. What did that even mean? Before I could respond, another message appeared. «Look under your bed.» I froze. My bedroom suddenly felt different. The darkness in the corners seemed deeper. I looked toward the floor. Nothing moved. I told myself it was a prank. Someone was trying to scare me. But my curiosity won. Slowly, I climbed out of bed. I knelt down. Then I looked underneath. At first, I saw nothing except dust. Then I noticed a small wooden box pushed against the wall. I had never seen it before. My hands trembled as I pulled it out. There was no lock. Inside was a photograph. I lifted it. My heart stopped. It was me. I was standing beside a boy. The same dark hair. The same crooked smile. Noah. My face was smiling in the photograph. His hand was wrapped around mine. On the back, written in faded black ink, were five words: You promised to remember me. I dropped the photograph. My phone vibrated one final time. I picked it up. There was only one message. «Now you know I'm real.» I stared at the screen. Then another message appeared. «Tomorrow, I'll tell you why you forgot me.» The room went silent. And for the first time in seven years, I remembered his face. Noah. The boy who was supposed to be dead. The boy I had promised never to forget. And suddenly, I was terrified of what I might remember next.