Ghost (Second Edition)

Chapter Twenty-One--Between Two Worlds

Luis

"Where are you going?"

Luis looked over his shoulder at Nathan who was lying sprawled on the bed. "Back to Mother's. I have to make her dinner, so she thinks I'm home."

Nathan frowned. "Alright..."

"Get some rest while I'm gone, won't you?" Luis asked, flashing him a small smile.

Nathan shifted his position in the bed so that he was on his side. "I'll try."

Luis slipped out of the bedroom door and into the long, carpeted hallway. The hallway was rather bare, but in an elegant way. Luis liked it. It was clean and open.

He passed the living room on his way to the front door. Martin and Mary were curled up on the sofa deep in conversation. Martin had his arm wrapped around Mary's slim shoulders as Mary rested her head on his shoulder.

Luis ducked his head and was about to rush past the archway when he heard his name.

"I'm worried about Luis," Mary murmured as she looked up at her husband. "You've seen how skinny he is, and those scars..."

Luis bit his lip. When Mary and Martin had been helping him into his suit the day of the prom, they had seen all the scars that covered his body. He'd begged them not to tell Nathan, he never wanted him to see them.

"Hm," Martin grunted softly.

"Is there anything we can do?" Mary asked.

Luis shifted his weight as guilt washed over him. Great, he was stressing them out too. He shook his head and took a deep breath, rushing past the archway.

"In a hurry, Luis?"

Luis froze and looked up. "I heard nothing!" He squeaked.

Martin snorted slightly as Mary gave him a fond smile.

"It's alright, mate," Martin murmured. He stretched his legs out onto the glass-topped coffee table. "Where are you off to?"

"My Mother's," Luis murmured.

Mary frowned. "Why?"

"To help her make dinner. I told you she isn't a good cook," Luis mumbled, tugging at the hem of his jumper.

Mary frowned.

"I'll drive you," Martin offered, gently untangling himself from Mary.

"No! You don't have to! I can walk!" Luis rushed, waving his hands.

"I insist." Martin clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Come on."

Luis hesitated for a second before following him.

***

Luis slipped inside the dark house. He couldn't hear anything, no TV, no nothing.

He relaxed his shoulders and headed to the grimy kitchen. The only light came from the orange afternoon sun, which hid most of the darker stains in the shadows and gleamed faintly off the dull metal pots and pans on the wall.

The fridge buzzed faintly in its corner, the sound like a constant monotone hum. Luis headed over to it, his feet silent on the grimy floors. Inside, the dim yellow light lit up the winkled tomatoes, apples, and capsicums, as well as the stale bread and powdered milk.

He bent down to the bottom drawer and drew out a plastic container filled with tomato soup that he had cooked the other night. He just had to heat it up, leave it out, and then leave again.

Simple.

He wouldn't need to see his mother and risk a beating. Though going by the empty house, she would be out drinking. If she came home early, he might be greeted with a hug, but he doubted it.