Just a dream (I can feel you staring at me)

Chapter seven: Through a different view (part two)

Waking up didn’t make him panic.
The pictures inside of his head slowly getting clear once again.

He was Robin Arellano.
The toughest kid in school. He lived with his Tio Toby most of the time.
His best friend was Finney Blake, to whom he gave the nickname Finn.
He wanted to watch the Texas Chainsaw Massacre with him.

He was meant to have died.
Died in a creepy old basement full with the ghost of the deceased unfortunate souls he got before he got Robin.
And yet he was sitting up in his bed, the only things telling him something was wrong being the feeling of unfamiliarity in his own home and the sickening knowledge of his death.

No there was something else.
He knew Finn was there.
His Finn was in the same basement he died.

Now he began to shake. His eyes started to tear up.
He left him alone. He left him behind.

No’, he tried telling himself.
The picture of the old basement was weird. It was strangely blurry and yet at the same time clear.
He knew he talked to Finney on the phone, telling him to get out for him. He taught him to stand up for himself.
Finn killed the man that took so many lives.

And somehow Robin was alive.
Well, or so he assumed. His heart was beating, his lungs were filling themselves with air and after that got rid of the stuff he couldn't use.
His hands were sweating. His thoughts running through his head.

He stood up. His room was filled with posters of movies, the walls practically plastered in these. Then there were, as far as he could see, some pictures.
One of a woman.

His mom.
She wasn’t abusive or anything. She just wasn’t there often.
She was in his Tio’s house, her room just beside his.
But she often slept, Toby said she was having a bad time ever since his dad didn’t return home.

He couldn't be mad at her. He felt like that too sometimes.
Just not having the energy to get up, not even to brush your teeth or to shower.
He tried ignoring it, though.

He found someone that made that feeling go away. Someone he wanted to protect like his dad did protect his buddies in the war.
It wasn’t the same, he knew this.
But somehow he got to go back again.
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The house was silent as Robin sneacked out of his room. He knew his uncle wouldn't be angry.
He didn't remember how many times he had visited the small altar for his father when he was having trouble sleeping or was worried. Toby never was.
But this wasn't the same.
It wasn't a nightmare, as much as he wished he could tell himself it was.

The altar, if you could even call it that, was covered with trifles, things his father had once loved.
A picture of him, his mother along with Robin and Tio Toby was placed next to his picture.
“Hola papá.. ¿Cómo estás?" he asked, looking at the picture.

His family didn’t exactly follow the traditions of their ancestors exactly, but they tried.
An altar for the dead, honoring them and keeping their spirit alive.
They are said to visit once a year. Offerings are placed for them.
Robin at first was reluctant to believe that.

Why couldn't his dad always be there, if he could be once?
It didn’t fit into his head at the time. He was angry and confused why his dad didn’t come back.
But now he had an idea.

A ghost couldn't directly leave the place their life bleed out of them.
Not until something was achieved, and as a ghost you couldn't tell people what it was, even if you knew. No one would hear you. And sometimes you didn’t know what would free you.

“Lo siento por estar enojado contigo... Pensé que podrías volver cuando quisieras. Pero no puedes, ¿verdad?" he added, only looking at the picture of the man. His Tio said he really looked like him.