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The Lost Boy (Dave Pelzer #2) by Dave Pelzer Read Online (FREE)

The Lost Boy Read Online Free

Read The Lost Boy (Dave Pelzer, #2) by Dave Pelzer online free here.

Author’s Notes

Some of the names in this book have been changed in order to protect the dignity and privacy of others.

As in the first part of the trilogy, A Child Called “It”, this second part depicts language that was developed from a child’s viewpoint. The tone and vocabulary reflect the age and wisdom of the child at that particular time.

The perspective of A Child Called “It” was based on the child’s life from ages 4 to 12; the perspective of this book is based on life from ages 12 to 18.

 

 

 

 

 

 1 – The Runaway

Winter 1970, Daly City, California – I’m alone. I’m hungry and I’m shivering in the dark. I sit on top of my hands at the bottom of the stairs in the garage. My head is tilted backward. My hands became numb hours ago. My neck and shoulder muscles begin to throb. But that’s nothing new – I’ve learned to turn off the pain.

I’m Mother’s prisoner.

I am nine years old, and I’ve been living like this for years. Every day it’s the same thing. I wake up from sleeping on an old army cot in the garage, perform the morning chores, and if I’m lucky, eat leftover breakfast cereal from my brothers. I run to school, steal food, return to “The House” and am forced to throw up in the toilet bowl to prove that I didn’t commit the crime of stealing any food.

I receive beatings or play another one of her “games, ” perform afternoon chores, then sit at the bottom of the stairs until I’m summoned to complete the evening chores. Then, and only if I have completed all of my chores on time, and if I have not committed any “crimes, ” I may be fed a morsel of food.

My day ends only when Mother allows me to sleep on the army cot, where my body curls up in my meek effort to retain any body heat. The only pleasure in my life is when I sleep. That’s the only time I can escape my life. I love to dream.

Weekends are worse. No school means no food and more time at “The House.” All I can do is try to imagine myself away -somewhere, anywhere -from “The House.” For years I have been the outcast of “The Family.” As long as I can remember I have always been in trouble and have “deserved” to be punished. At first I thought I was a bad boy. Then I thought Mother was sick because she only acted differently when my brothers were not around and my father was away at work. But somehow I always knew Mother and I had a private relationship. I also realized that for some reason I have been Mother’s sole target for her unexplained rage and twisted pleasure.

I have no home. I am a member of no one’s family. I know deep inside that I do not now, nor will I ever, deserve any love, attention or even recognition as a human being. I am a child called “It.”