Loss Of My Life

Chapter 04

Lyle

My original plan for the day wasn't to be at a strangers house with my father at 1 PM, waiting for his son to get home but here I was. I could be painting right now, or hanging out with one of my friends. But my father was stuck on me coming here or he'd completely cut me off, and I couldn't have that happening yet. Not until I could take care of myself.

When we knocked on the door, a man who looked to be in his early thirties answered it with a bright smile on his face. He had a cleanly shaved beard and mustache, and he wore a blue plaid button up shirt and khaki pants.

He looked friendly enough, and when he offers me his hand I nod and take it, shaking his hand with an awkward polite smile.

"Thanks for coming. Truly I'm very thankful that you were able to come. Come in, come in." He steps to the side, and I walk into the house, my dad following in pursuit. The house is small, but it's a cozy little thing. It's nothing compared to our house, but in all honesty I think I'd prefer living here rather than anywhere else.

Looking around, I catch sight of the pictures on the wall. They're pictures of what I can assume is the man's son my dad was talking about.

From what I can see he's likely adopted. He looked fully Asian and had jet black hair. His features were completely different then the mans, but he looked just as cheerful as him. His smile was infectious, I will admit that.

I look over and my eyes catch sight of another photo. The boy was distracted eating what I could assume was pistachio ice cream, the cold dessert smeared all over his chin and mouth. I cover my mouth to conceal a chuckle, shaking my head. Wonder who took this picture.

Crossing my arms, I look around the room for a few moments before heading into the kitchen, sitting down on a stool at the island. I take out my phone and scroll on my social media while my dad and the man begin to talk. I only catch bits of the conversation. The man promising my dad money for my service, and my dad telling him "it's okay, he needs this experience". I was surprised that he just went along with it considering the fact I didn't know the first thing about taking care of another being.

Maybe it's because he and my dad were self-proclaimed best friends.

Yeah, that oughta be it.

My head lifts and I look over at the door as I hear the doorknob rattle and keys jingling and finally the door opens, and the kid that I had assumed my dad's friend was talking about walks into the house. I think I had heard him say his name once, Elijah, wasn't it? Yeah.. that's it, that's his friend's name. I don't see the boy yet, but I'm sure I will soon.

As he finally enters the room, my eyes immediately fall upon a wheelchair. Oh. So this kid was actually physically ill. Just my luck, I'd be dealing with a cripple.

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. Maybe my father was right, it would be good for me to deal with something like this. But then again, when was my father ever right?

The boy stares at me and I stare back at him, a queasy feeling growing in my stomach as he picks me apart with his gaze. It's strange, usually whenever people stare me down I can match their energy easily. But when he does it, it just makes me feel.. weird.

He breaks the eye contact before I can, and I blink slowly.

Then the man who's name is Elijah begins to speak, "There you are, Sylas! You remember Mr. Montgomery, don't you?"

Sylas. His name is Sylas. I nod my head, it suits him.

I begin to tune out the rest of their conversation, playing with my knuckles quietly. But I look up once more when my father gestures towards me, and I blink slowly. Sylas stares at me again, but this time there's a bright smile on his face. A smile that just doesn't seem to reach his eyes.