A BOY WHO RAN FROM DAWN
799 Words
Abel knew, with a certainty that burned in his chest, that he was no longer safe.
Returning to his mother would not save him. It would only draw danger closer to her door. The elders would come in the night. Questions would be asked. Punishment would follow. If he truly loved her—if he wanted her to sleep without fear—then he had only one choice.
He had to disappear.
So Abel ran.
He ran without looking back as the first light of dawn crept slowly into the sky. The air was cold, sharp against his skin. His stomach twisted with hunger, and his feet screamed with every step, torn and bleeding from stones and thorns. Still, he did not stop.
His heart pounded violently, as though it wanted to tear free from his chest. His ears rang, drowning out every sound except the voice inside his head.
I killed a man.
I am a murderer.
The thought chased him faster than the elders ever could.
His breath became uneven. The world around him blurred into shifting shadows and light. Trees bent strangely. The ground felt unreal beneath his feet. His body, pushed beyond its strength, began to fail him.
And then he fell.
When Abel opened his eyes, silence surrounded him.
Not the heavy silence of the valley—but a different kind. A living silence. Somewhere nearby, water flowed gently. Leaves rustled as the wind passed through them, soft and patient, as though the land itself was breathing.
He lay there for a long moment, staring up at the pale sky. Dawn hovered quietly above him.
Pain slowly returned to his body. Hunger clawed at his stomach. Fear reminded him that rest was a luxury he could not afford.
He forced himself to sit up.
“I can’t stop,” he whispered.
He needed shelter. He needed food. Whatever waited ahead, he had to face it.
At the stream, Abel knelt and cupped water into his mouth, drinking greedily. His reflection stared back at him—dirty, exhausted, older than he had been yesterday. With trembling hands, he managed to catch a small fish. Using large leaves, he wrapped it carefully, as though handling something precious.
Then he walked.
The land rose before him, forming a tall, silent mountain. As he drew closer, he noticed a dark opening in its side—a cave, old and forgotten. Fear flickered through him, but the cold was worsening, and night was approaching.
Abel stepped inside.
The cave smelled of damp earth and age. Darkness pressed in from every side. His body shook uncontrollably as the cold settled deep into his bones. He had no clothes to protect him, no comfort to lean on.
But he endured.
Using stones and dry wood, he struggled until a small fire finally caught. Warmth spread slowly through his body. He roasted the fish, ate carefully, and for the first time since fleeing the valley, he felt something close to relief.
But when the fire quieted, his thoughts grew louder.
The baby’s cry pierced his mind.
The mother’s wailing followed.
Abel’s chest tightened. Tears slipped freely down his face.
“What have I done?” he whispered.
Questions flooded him relentlessly.
Am I a murderer?
Did I have a choice?
What would my mother think if she knew?
Is she searching for me right now?
Should I go back?
A sudden, violent wind tore through the cave, extinguishing the fire in an instant.
Darkness rushed in.
Then Abel heard it.
A woman’s voice—soft, broken, singing through pain.
“Stillness hid the danger,” the voice whispered.
“We cried in silence…”
“Save us,” she pleaded. “Save us all.”
Cold laughter echoed, sharp and cruel.
Fear wrapped itself tightly around Abel. His body shook as he stood, his legs weak beneath him. He moved deeper into the cave, his heart hammering as he searched for the voice.
But there was no one there.
Sudden pain surged through him—deep, consuming. It felt as though the woman’s suffering had entered his body. His legs gave way. He collapsed, unable to stand, unable to breathe properly.
“Father,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face, “help me.”
Darkness swallowed him whole.
When morning came, Abel heard voices.
Children laughing. People murmuring. Life moving.
He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to obey. Panic stirred within him as he struggled, only to realize his body was restrained. Something held him tightly.
He was tied.
He didn’t know where he was.
He didn’t know who had found him.
Unable to see, unable to move, Abel did the only thing he could.
He prayed.
He prayed that the hands holding him were not cruel ones.
- Writer
