Ghost (First Edition)

Chapter Seventeen

Luis

A few days later.

"Caty Lin, after three days in court, has been sentenced to fifty years in prison," the news reporter lady on the small TV said, "for attempted murder, child abuse, and child neglect."

Luis had his eyes fixed on the TV attached to the roof as nurses fussed around him, taking him off life support—he no longer needed it—and changing his hospital robes... and changing other things too embarrassing to admit.

Nathan was sitting next to him, also watching the TV, blond hair as neat as ever.

An image of Luis's mother came up on the screen. Luis looked at her cruel, sharp face, and felt glad he would never see her again.

"She's gone," Luis breathed.

Nathan looked at him. "Are you ok?" He asked gently, blue eyes slightly worried.

Luis looked at him and smiled. "I'm fine. Both physically and mentally... mostly."

Nathan smiled at him; his gaze held nothing but love. "The whole world is yours now, Luis, my love. Where do you want to go?"

"Can we finish school first?" Luis asked, "I still would like to graduate."

Nathan laughed. "Of course you can."

A nurse tapped Luis's shoulder; Luis looked at her. "The doctor will be with you soon," she murmured.

Luis smiled at her. "Thanks."

He felt good, he realized. That horrible dark wave of depression that had loomed over him for most of his life no longer threatened to crash ashore. He no longer longed for the lighter, knife, or death.

He felt good.

Mostly.

The trauma was still very much there. Luis knew that.

"Hello there, Luis," the doctor said as he came into the room, his white coat flapping about his legs, clipboard and pen in hand, stethoscope around his neck.

He was a skinny man with a mess of salt-and-pepper hair and mud-brown eyes.

"Hello Dr. Kyle," Luis murmured, picking at his sheet.

"How are we feeling today?" Kyle asked, looking Luis up and down, checking what he could by sight.

"Well. I'm breathing better now," Luis said with a small smile. "It's good to have the mask off."

Kyle smiled back, then looked down at his clipboard. "Your bloods say that all paracetamol is out of your system. You're in the clear from that."

"How did it take so long?" Luis asked. It had been days since his... attempt.

"Your body kept attacking it as it was attacking you, so it was attacking itself. It was a long battle," Kyle murmured.

"Oh... well, I won," Luis said sheepishly. He didn't understand how it worked. He was just glad he had survived.

"Hm," Kyle looked serious. "Your body is still seriously malnourished; you will need to be tube-fed for another two weeks. One week will be done here, at the hospital, the other can be done at home," he looked at Luis, his tone was just as serious as his face.

Luis's smile faltered. "Oh. Ok."

"That survey you did the other day?" Kyle continued, still serious, "It says you are still slightly unstable mentally," he looked up from the clipboard at Luis, "I can refer you to a good therapist."