The Farther Boy

June 4, 2026

by Denis

4 min read

Story Premise 4 min read (612 words)

"I’ve told this story to a lot of people, but almost no one believes me. Even my parents insist it was a bad dream, but I know what I saw. It happened when I was nine, at a huge amusement park called WonderWorld, on a summer day so hot the asphalt shimmered. My friends and […]"

I’ve told this story to a lot of people, but almost no one believes me. Even my parents insist it was a bad dream, but I know what I saw. It happened when I was nine, at a huge amusement park called WonderWorld, on a summer day so hot the asphalt shimmered. My friends and I had just gotten off the Twister Coaster, and my head was still spinning. I was holding a melting cone of strawberry ice cream in one hand and a sticky blue cotton candy in the other. I told my friends to go on ahead to the shady benches while I stopped to get my bearings. I set my cotton candy on a nearby railing, licked a blob of ice cream off the side of the cone, and when I looked up, they were gone.

I was surrounded by a sea of strangers. Thousands of faces, all different, but none familiar. Panic rose in my throat. I called out for my mom and dad, my voice a tiny whisper lost in the carnival noise. I tried to stay still, thinking they’d find me, but the crowd pushed and surged, and soon I was carried along, my sneakers barely touching the ground. I clutched my ice cream, the spoon still in my mouth, and my heart hammered.

After what felt like forever, I stumbled into a quieter area near a row of empty food stalls. I leaned against a wall, tears welling up. That’s when I saw him: a boy about my age, sitting on the ground, his face buried in his hands, sobbing. He wore a bright yellow shirt, and his shoulders shook with each cry. I felt a pang of sympathy. I knew how he felt. I wiped my eyes, took the spoon out of my mouth, and started walking toward him, ready to say something comforting.

But as I approached, something strange happened. The faster I walked, the farther away he seemed. The ground stretched, the air thickened, and the distance between us grew. I broke into a run, but the boy remained a small figure in the distance, his crying now a faint echo. I could see him clearly, but no matter how hard I ran, I couldn’t get closer. It was like trying to reach a reflection that kept slipping away.

I stopped, panting. The boy looked up, and our eyes met. His face was contorted in fear, but there was something else in his expression: a desperate plea. He mouthed something, but I couldn’t hear. Then, to my horror, I felt myself being pulled backward. The world blurred, and I fell.

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on a patch of grass near the park entrance. My ice cream was gone, and the spoon was missing. My parents were running toward me, their faces pale with worry. They said I’d only been gone for a minute, that I’d probably wandered off and got scared. But I knew that wasn’t true. I still dream of that boy in the yellow shirt, and I swear I’ve seen him in the background of family photos, always at the edge of the frame, always looking at me. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I hear a faint crying, and when I look out my window, I see a blur of yellow disappearing around the corner. I’ve never told my parents about that. They’d just say it’s my imagination. But I know it’s real. That boy is still out there, waiting for someone to reach him, and I’m terrified that if I ever get close enough, I’ll be stuck in that endless space with him.

Related Horror Movies to Watch

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The Perfect Companion

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The Changeover

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Nicodemus

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