As a ghost in the night

Memories, old and new

Authors note! Ok, so this chapter is some background stories, it's introspective and maybe a little irrelevant, but I'm trying to help you (if there is a "you") understand the mindset and histories of this character, as he has an emotional connection with me. I feel it is important to understand where he is coming from and how he reacts to various stimuli. So if you want to read this chapter, you can, but you could skip it too. This is going to take a long time to write, so I'd apologize for the wait, if there were anyone actually reading these and waiting for new installments.
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The soft stream of sunlight flows unto my face, cascading in gentle rivulets down my face as a stream over rocks. I hate it. A small hissing noise escapes my throat as I roll over, attempting to avoid the searing agony of sunlight blazing into my retinas. I stand up, shielding my eyes from the evil, evil ball of glowing death (and by ball of death, I mean the massive energy source which sustains our life). I throw on my hideous glasses and poke myself in the eye. "Agh, why does life hate my eyes today!" I curse softly, my head hurting from the light. My glasses securely tucked behind my ears, I make my way to the kitchen, cause momma needs her food, and we have eggos. I pull the box out of the freezer, and instantly know it's too light. With trepidation, I open the box and peer inside. Not only is it empty, it has a note inside saying "haha, you thought there'd be waffles, huh? Well guess what, you're gonna have to eat those nasty frozen sausages in the freezer!" There's only one person who would do something so vile. My older brother, Octavian. He must have stopped by last night. Wondering into the dining room, I see his shoes tucked to the side of the door. "He's still here? Doesn't he have work?" The second I say this, I remember that it is, of course, Saturday. I woke up at noon, of course it's a weekend, how stupid am I? I forget sometimes, as I don't get excited for weekends anymore. I used to, but it's not like I have anywhere to go, and all I do on weekends is sleep in and study anyway. It's pretty boring, getting up at noon, doing schoolwork until circa 7:45, then sleeping. Rinse, repeat, and regret your life choices. I sit down at the piano, prepared to waste some time, but my brother is asleep right through the wall, and I don't want to wake him up. Especially if he has his girlfriend here, which he probably does. I wouldn't dream of tearing them out of a cute, warm snuggle. Even if he is a douche, he's my douche and I love him. Plus, even I can tell she's hot, nice, and good girlfriend material. Instead, I choose to do some sketching. I draw, but I'm not very good, and I absolutely, positively will not show anyone. I would die if they saw half the stuff, it's all metaphorical, wishy-washy art of my feelings. See, I use all forms of art to try to express the feelings I have a hard time understanding and dealing with on my own, which, being a pansy, there are plenty of. Most of the drawings wouldn't even mean anything to others, but I wouldn't take that chance. The whole habit started years ago. I started with piano, having taken lessons since I was six. I was going through a particularly rough time, a close friend of mine had just... Well, had just forcefully and cruelly cut me out of their life. I was home when they told me (over the fucking Internet no less) that they don't want to talk to me ever again, with no reason why, just that she had "obligations to another". I felt so betrayed, I sat down without any sheet music and just poured myself into the keys, working everything I would tell her into raw sound. It was my first improvisational work, and while I don't remember what it sounded like, I do remember one, very embarrassing fact. I had left the window open as I played, and when I finished, the fucking mailman was standing on our porch looking at me and crying. Literally, what the fuck? He had come to deliver a package and... I don't know, he either really liked it, or really hated it. I was kind of embarrassed, until I took the package from him and realized I was crying to. I didn't even know it, but tears were just casually streaming down my face. Improv can do that to you, I've learned. To truly improv, you can't have any filter, any inhibitions, just feel your soul and make it happen. It comes to a point where you aren't even aware of pressing keys, the sound, the feeling of the metre, the tempo, the harmonies, they just take over. From then on, I started searching for a piece that fit my soul perfectly. While I have yet to succeed, I've discovered so much about myself, it's incredible. Years later, after the same thing had happened countless times, I grew restricted by the limits of a piano, having a finite number of notes, ergo, a finite number of possibilities (not that I could ever reach the limit). Then, knowing I couldn't draw, I sat down with paper and a pen and just... Drew. I didn't draw any"thing", I just tried work out some feelings. It looked like scribbles, and it was, to be honest, but it felt good, so I kept going. I spent days and days creating sketches, and within two weeks I was better. You could tell what I was trying to draw. Now, years later, it's still a medium I use for many reasons, and I'm getting better.I've found drawing symbolically the best way to feel better, though sometimes designs, or zen tangles, help a lot too. This helped me through the times I felt abandoned, through my losses of friends and family. To be honest, art is probably the only reason I'm still alive. Although, my music has most assuredly played the biggest part, and I've learned as many instruments as I could get my hands on. I've never played for anyone other than my family (and even that was an accident, I didn't know they were home the first time, and now I'm kind of used to them). I'm far too self conscious. I hear a door slam, and giggles floating through the air. Sounds like Octavian is up, along with his girlfriend, Melody. Sneaking out to the kitchen, I grab the empty eggo box he tricked me with, sneak up behind him, and shove it on his head, covering his eyes. Laughing, I run out of the way before he can take a playful swipe at me, he doesn't even try though, simply pulls it off and chuckles.
"Wow, I was expecting worse. I'd deserve it too, lord knows how you love your food," he says.
"Momma needs her sustenance," we say in unison. The kid knows me well, having lived with me for 16 years. We both make some breakfast for us and melody, talking about his weekend plans.
"What're you doing this weekend, going out with friends I presume?"
"Nah, I'm just going to -"
"Stay in and study, I guess" he says in perfect timing with me. He really does know me.
"When was the last time you actually went out and did something?" He asks.
"Well..." I do some quick math, "last Halloween I had an unavoidable party I had to go to," I say. That's not true, though, I skipped it. In truth, I haven't left the house of my own accord for over ten months.
"Well, we're going to the new video gaming lounge with some mates if you wanna go. They're cool, you might like them, and there's no pressure to become friends with them, just hanging out for a couple hours over a game of Super Mario Kart. You interested?"
I open my mouth, about to say that I have no money anyway, when he interrupts with "and before you say anything, it's on me. I know you don't have an allowance, and you've been saving up for those sweet earrings we saw at the mall, right? So yeah, it's on me."
Hell, I can't say no to that. No commitment, free games (and probably food, if I play my cards right), and a chance to get out of this fucking house? Hell yes.
"Yeah, sounds great man. Thanks for paying, you're totally right, I'm poor as shit. I'd feel sorry for making you spend so much on me, but hell, you have a job, and you offered."
"Cool," he says, smiling ear to ear, " I think you'll like these guys, one in particular is basically you, part two. You'll get along great. Oh, and just so you know, I'm kicking your ass at Mario kart, no way I'm letting you pick the map like last time."
"That was beautiful, you had no idea I had mastered Rainbow Road, did you? You thought you had that in the bag," I say, mouth full of disgusting sausage. "When do we leave?"
"Right the fuck now, you're dressed, come on!" He's kidding, of course, as I'm in my- oh fuck! I'm just in underwear and a t-shirt! I didn't even notice! Blushing hard, much to his delight, I run to my room to put on some clothes.
"You're looking hot, Chase, I see why the girls kept asking me for your number and if you were single," he says after a wolf whistle. I've always been self conscious of my body, even though I know I have no reason to be. I'm actually pretty fir, with a slim build and short height. See, when I was younger, I got bullied a lot. So I worked out for an hour a day, and forfeited my allowance ($5, it wasn't worth keeping anyway) for ju-jitsu lessons. Now, I'm strong, a brown belt, and I beat the piss out of my old bully, Zack. I wasn't planning on hurting him, but... Well, I had no choice. "Ok, what to wear... Gotta look hot for the "mates", and I know just what to wear." Black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt with a cat made out of a galaxy (I love it) and a designer jacket, the most expensive thing I own. Heading to Octavian's car, I hear him give me another whistle.
"Damn, you looked good without clothes, but you look better with them on. Where did you even get that jacket? I want one!" He says. Blushing, I say "it's just a jacket, chill. And FYI, it was a gift, I don't know where they got it. I just know I couldn't afford it unless I sold both my kidneys on the black market."
"Oh, I did that once," he says. "I got this with the money." He holds up a necklace that was under his shirt. I stare in awe. It's a ring on a chain, the ring a mesh of three substances. The center is pure gold, but I can't identify the substances on either side. pointing in turn, he says "this is dinosaur bone, this is 24 karat gold, and this is from a meteor that struck California three years ago."
"Holy shit," I breathe out, in awe at its beauty. "I'm selling my kidneys, totally fucking worth it."
"Good luck with that mate, it's one of a kind." He says, tucking it into his shirt again. "And off of that topic, let's go!"