Ghost ⇔ Cake ✓

Twenty Five: Disappear

Calum sat on Luke's bedroom floor, knees tucked to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. He was gripping his skin as though it were a lifeline, while silence hung suffocatingly thick in the air, like the mist that comes after rain. Michael and Luke were quiet, and Calum was scared of how they might react.

He could still remember the feeling of that wet grass against his cheek, the pain that numbed his leg, the relief that filled his blood when he saw Jack, quickly replaced by fear. He remembered the panic when he realized Jack's true intentions, when he saw the decision become made-up on his face. He remembered spiraling, desperate, thinking of some way to save his own life or change Jack's mind. He remembered praying for Ashton to return fast with the paramedics, for his friend to relieve his worry and stay fast by his side while he was rescued.

Of course, none of that happened.

Beside him, Luke had gone completely still, silent and motionless as a graveyard statute. Michael was gripping the doorframe, knuckles blanched. His messy hair fluttered in the air condition breeze.

Then, Luke broke his form to shake his head. "No. No, no, no."

Calum reached out for his hand, but Luke pulled it away. "Luke––"

"Look, I know you don't like Jack. Trust me, I know he isn't the most loving brother out there, but he wouldn't commit a murder. He's a lawyer, for God's sake, this is what he fights against."

"All I know is what I saw," Calum said softly, and he didn't feel the tears dripping down his cheeks until Michael left to grab him a tissue. "I know it sounds crazy, I know, but it's what I saw. None of my visions have been wrong yet."

Luke shook his head, slowly. He took his time answering. "Jack didn't necessarily love us being together, but he wouldn't fucking murder my boyfriend, Calum. That's just insane."

Calum didn't know what to say. Luke looked so tortured, hands rubbing his crystal blue eyes, eyebrows furrowed, shoulders slumped. He wanted desperately to comfort him, but every time Calum reached over, Luke turned away.

Michael settled on the floor beside them. "Okay, let's say that this is true. Okay? What can we do to make the police believe it?"

"How do we really know that it wasn't Ashton's dad? How do we know that he didn't shoot Calum, and Calum died before the paramedics could get there?"

"Because we know Calum was meeting someone there, we knew the drugs were connected, which is sketchy," Michael said, "and he was somewhere else when the paramedics got there. Someone moved him. You don't just die from a leg wound, not that fast, at least."

"How do we know that Calum didn't just move himself?" asked Luke.

"With a shot leg? Also, he knew that the paramedics were coming, why would he move deeper into the woods?" Michael pointed out.

"I'm right here," Calum piped up.

Luke ignored him. "I just... then how were the drugs involved?"

Calum took the opportunity. "I don't know. But in the vision, I told Jack when he saw me that the drugs were in my backpack. I must have gotten them for him. I don't know why, though. Maybe he threatened to do something if I didn't?"

Michael muttered, "I wouldn't put it past him after hearing this."

Luke whipped his head toward the boy. "You believe him?" Michael just sighed, shaking his head just a little.

"Come on, man, I know you believe him too. Deep down. It's just hard since it's your brother."

Luke's face fell, and he buried it into his hands. They were shaking. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."