Saving Marley

Chapter Eight

Marley

 We'd managed to forget about everything until the front door opened. Trent's body tenses and I shut my mouth. Heels click down the tiles and then the door opens. His mother pokes her head inside the room with a bright smile.

"Hi Trent, how are you?"

"I'm great, how about you?"

"Tired." She sighs. "How's the assignment?"

"Just about to print it." He grins.

"Congratulations." She cheers. "What are you hungry for? My treat!"

"I don't mind, whatever you want to make."

"Okay." She nods. "Be down in thirty."

"Sure." He nods.

Thirty minutes feels like thirty seconds, which is either a ghost or insecure thing.

"Stay here, I'll be back soon."

"Okay," I groan.

"Don't do anything weird."

"Weird." I scoff. "What do you think I'm going to do."

With a shrug, Trent races out of the room.

I flop onto the chair and glare at the television. If I was alive, this would be luxurious because I never have free afternoons because there's always assignments or something to do. I have so much time and I'd rather be working on assignments.

The movie credits roll and I stare at the ceiling, bored out of my mind.

I wonder how my family is, how dinner is going. There's always a fight over who's going to finish the salad because Adam and I hate lettuce. I look at the dark hallway and curiosity bubbles.

I jump up and wander down the hallway. I follow the sound of their voices into a large dining room which is spacious. There's a dark brown dining table in the centre of the room which can seat four people.

Trent's parents sit opposite and all you can hear is metal scraping against china dishes. Their dinner is very different to ours. Mum demands we talk about our days which I kinda miss now.

"Were you there when it happened?" His father sighs, his brown eyes tear.

"Yes." Trent nods.

I gasp which captures his attention.

"Oh darling." She frowns.

"I don't want to talk about it, though."

"Of course." She nods.

He finishes his meal and places the cutlery on the plate.

"Can I leave?"

"Yes." His father nods.

Trent and I retreat to his bedroom and he closes the door.

"I'm sorry, I got bored."

"It's fine."

"I'm tired," he comments.

"Oh."

He grabs clothes out of his wardrobe and changes in the bathroom. Trent slides under the covers and stares at me. I wrap my arms around my waist and sigh.

"I don't know if ghosts sleep."

"Unfortunately, you'd know more than me."

"I suppose." I sigh.

"Are you okay if I go to sleep."

"Can you talk to me for a little bit?"

Trent sighs, but nods.

"You owe me if my parents think I'm crazy."

"Okay." I chuckle.

I rest on the couch and Trent flips the light off.

I wish I was at home, wrapped up in my cozy blankets. I wish Trent was playing his annoyingly loud music, and I wish I could fall asleep and forget about this, even if it's just for a second.

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