Blank Lines

His liquid blue eyes met mine and the expression on his face changed. His eyes were bloodshot and cold, dead. He was shaking and looked so fragile i thought he would break apart if i made a move to touch him.

The man in the black suit nodded and my father put a hand on the young boys back. The boy flinched away. My fathers brown eyes darkened in sadness. The man in the suit handed him some papers and my dad accepted thim with a grave expression and the door shut behind the man.

The man in the suit had brought the boy an hour earlier. I wondered who he was and why he was here. We sometimes had orphans rotated in, sometimes foster kids. But this boy was different. His hood was up over his head, blocking out his features as i watched the transaction from the corner of the hall. 

The boy stayed silent the entire time, his head down. He was shaking so hard i thought he would break in to. When he met my eyes, his were wide and afraid looking. I felt sad for him. 

After the man left, Daddy introduced us. "Remi, " He said in his warm voice that matched his chocolate eyes. My chocolate eyes. "This is Lucas. He'll be staying with us a while until he can find a proper family." My father nudged the boy towards me and i stepped back cautiously. 

Up close, i noticed his black hair. He was around my age, probably 7 or 8 like myself. I  examined the part of his face that caught the light. His skin was fair, almost papery. He didn't make a sound, only stood there, looking straight ahead with the same expression. My dad sighed. 

"Remi, why don't you start him a bath? He's been through a lot." His eyes looked sad and i nodded. The boy kind of scared me but i didn't want to hurt my daddy's feelings so i lead to boy to the bathroom near where his room would be and started the water in the tub. 

"Well, there you go. I'll leave so you can take a bath." I told him. He didn't move or answer, so i opened the door to leave. He grabbed my hand, his eyes frantic as they stared into mine again. His lips moved but no sound came out.

I moved closer, straining to hear him.

"D-don't leave." He looked so weak and broken, begging me to stay, that i felt sad. I closed the door.

"Well ok." I shrugged, not quite understanding. I was, after all young. His shoulders relaxed visibly. He was just afraid, and i understood him. 

"Here let me help you with that." I reached my hand up to pull down his hood. I was curious to see his face. I wanted to see what he looked like. He didn't move away so i continued inching his hood down. He just stared at my face, gauging my reaction. 

Finally, the hood fell away, revealing his face and i gasped. It was spattered with red. He was shaking harder, still staring. I wasn't sure what to do. He looked thin and scared so i clenched my fists. 

He was taller than me. Only a little. I grabbed a washcloth, and dipped it into the bath water before slowly pressing it against his face. He had no reaction, so i guessed he wasn't injured. Then whos blood was this? 

I finished cleaning his face. The washcloth was pink with blood and his face was flushed, not as pale as before. "Thank you." He whispered. He seemed more relaxed, and wasn't shaking anymore. I smiled and nodded, moving towards the door again. This time he let me go, and took his bath in peace. 

"Remi!" My fathers voice floated in from the kitchen. "Yes papa?" I called down the stairs. He appeared at the bottom of the steps, holding a wooden spoon. "Make sure Lucas is okay tonight love." He smiled and i nodded. I understood. I had seen many young orphans, shattered by the realization that their mommy or daddy wasn't coming back. It made me sad to think about not having my daddy. 

He beamed at me proudly. He was proud of me. I was smart for my age. Maybe it had something to do with living in a half-way home for troubled kids, but i understood alot of things for a seven year old. 

I took the stairs silently, following my dad back into the kitchen. 

"So, daddy? What's Lucas's story?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't say anything about the blood, which made me even more curious. I was baffled at why he would have someone elses blood on his body. My father sighed, looking down at his mug of coffee with a grave expression. 

"Lucas's father did something very terrible honey. He's been through so much." My dad replied, staring into his coffee mug. I furrowed my eyebrows. Such a vague answer annoyed me. I liked things blunt, straight forward. 

"What did his dad do?" I asked, staring hard at my own Dad. He sighed, suddenly looking tired. 

"Honey bee, lets not talk about this right now." He rubbed a hand over his face, looking older. I guessed all of the drama of other peoples lives took its toll on a person. I sighed, obviously irritated by the answer but didn't push it. For Daddy's sake. 

We waited for Lucas to come out of the bath, but he never did. After almost an hour, daddy had fallen asleep and i was starting to get worried. It was late, almost 11 o clock and way past my bedtime, but i wanted to make sure the fragile child hadn't been sucked down the drain with the bathwater. 

I tapped my knuckles on the bathroom door hesitantly. "Lucas?" I whispered. When there was no answer i rapped my knuckles louder and used my loud voice to call his name. He still didn't answer. I sighed, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Should i? No.

I went to walk the other way but the worry got the best of me. I swallowed. "Lucas i'm coming in." I called, waiting a moment to see if he would answer, and when he didn't i opened the door. 

Daddy didn't keep locks on the door. It was his policy because he wanted to be able to make sure none of the bad kids did anything harmful. The doorknob twisted easily under my fingers and i pushed the door open, squeazing my eyes shut.

The bathroom was small, and i would have heard the water sloshing in the tub if he jumped at my entrance. "Lucas?" I asked quietly, peeking one eye open. To my relief, he was clothed, and staring blankly at himself in the mirror. His face was that same scared expression. 

"Lucas. It's time for bed." I spoke softly, not wanting to scare him but he stood as still as a statue. So, i went a put a hand on his arm. He jumped, like i had shocked him with electricity, his eyes glazing over with fear. 

I backed away, my heart pounding as he looked at me with wild eyes. But they slowly calmed and brightened with recognition. Then, he slumped forward, looking exhausted. I led him to his room with out saying a word. 

"Goodnight Lucas." I told him, hoping he would go in the room, but he seemed paralyzed. I just sighed and led him into the dark room, and to the bed, even tucking him in.

"Sleep well." I smiled when i said this, to make sure he wouldn't be scared anymore. But a tear rolled down his cheek, the one that once was spattered with someone elses blood. My chest ached for the broken boy as his sobs grew louder. I bit my lip, unsure of what to do. 

"M-mommy." He choked out, his chest heaving. Was his mommy gone? My own heart ached for him and i reached my arms out and folded him into a big bear hug. "Mommy's gone." He sobbed into my ear and i nodded rubbing his back. 

"It's ok. My mommy's gone to." I told him, trying to make him feel less alone. He cried and cried into my shoulder for his lost mommy and i held him until he eventually cried himself to sleep. Then, i tiptoed to my own room and into my bed, dreaming of blue eyes and a broken boy. 

When i woke up in the morning, he was gone.