In which a troubled boy is haunted by the spirit of his dead brother.
"are you scared of me?"
"no."
"why aren't you like everyone else?"
"because I believe you."
(created on 3/27/17)
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△ Grayson had decided to take a much needed walk by himself into the small town that was a few blocks away from his house. He had awoken in his usual thin coat of sweat and quickly took a shower to try to forget his dream. It didn't work and he decided that he just needed to be alone. Some fresh air, valuable alone time, and a peaceful morning were the three things he thought he needed most. Slipping on a pair of rugged vans to walk the streets in, he grabbed nothing but an apple from the kitchen and left without a sound.
He hadn't even stepped foot into Ryder's room that morning. He wasn't mad, or sad, or afraid... frankly, he just didn't care to wake her up or check to see how she was. If he needed a walk, she would understand. She always did.
Ethan, on the other hand, had disappeared again since the last dart game and Grayson wasn't complaining at all. Confidence built inside of him with every minute that Ethan wasn't around. His brother was an asshole; and that's an understatement.
• • •
The morning dew hung from the grass like small glass beads. When Grayson's feet plowed through the blades, he noticed how his light gray vans soon turned dark with the dampness. Even small blades of cut grass stuck to the soles where a neighbor had moved his lawn the day before. A small cricket jumped from the grass in front of him, and he watched it until his eyes couldn't make out its body from the weeds. He began to wonder if that was kind of like how Ethan was. Always there but far away to where he couldn't see him... He remembered he needed his alone time and quickly pushed the thought out as fast as he could.
Colorful banners and tents lined the road before he could believe he had arrived at the town. A morning farmers market had gathered and sold everything from homemade jewelry to fresh vegetables. There was even a wafting smell of warm pies and his mouth watered at the thought of having one.
People walked past him looking at the items and produce and he jumped in the rotation. With every step, the smell of pie got stronger and Grayson felt weak at how strong it was. There was no telling how long it had been since he'd last had a warm homemade pie.
Before he knew it, a booth with a red and white checkered table cloth covered in pies was just under his nose, and a matching canopy tent was above his head. An older woman stood on the other side and gave him a big smile when he stopped to look.
"Good Morning Sir, are you interested in buying a pie?" Her voice was small and fit her smaller figure. Her fight gray hair pulled up into a tight bun and held together by a beaded dragonfly hair clip. Glasses sat upon her head to aid her from the slight milkiness in her left eye. "They're fresh baked last night. I stayed up all night to make sure of it!"
Grayson looked up from the various flavors and gave the woman a smile at her kindness. He nodded and reached into his pocket. It was empty and his face immediately fell.
"I don't have any money with me," he frowned. "I must've forgot to pick it up when I left."
The woman gave him an apologetic smile and told him she would be right back. She then shuffled her way to a large insulated box that sat in the back of the covered canopy.
"Have you already been helped?"
He looked up to see a different lady come from a different direction and stop in front of him.
"Yes ma'am, I'm just waiting for... something," he felt awkward waiting for something when he didn't know what to expect.
The lady nodded. There was an awkward pause even when Grayson looked away, but she didn't and he looked down at his shoes that were covered in grass and moisture.
"May I ask you a question?" She finally spoke after minutes of silence.
Grayson nodded and hoped the first woman would just hurry up already.
The lady in front of him teacher for his hand but he pulled it away before she could touch him. She shook her head and got real close to whisper into his ear, "you're the Dolan's boy, aren't you?"
"What?" His eyes widened and he took a step back from the table. "How did you know-"
The lady was about to reply before the First Lady returned with half of a pie in her hands. It looked crumbled and smashed by weight but the smell still made his mouth water at the thought. The woman's pale and bony hands held the pie out to him and Grayson outstretched his own to take it.
"No, no," the lady said and snatched the pie from the woman's hands. "We don't give things to psychopaths. Especially killers. No matter how destroyed the pie may be."
"Keep it," Grayson shakily said. His head hurt and he stumbled a few feet backwards into a small crowd of people. "I didn't need it anyways."
He glanced once more towards the booth and saw the older woman looking defeated as the second one scolded her and warned her about such "killers".
"The boy killed his parents and ran off his sister. His brother killed himself and he should go down to those damn woods and do the same before he kills one of us. They're probably down there waiting for him with open arms. A family of fools to raise a child to be such a-"
Grayson was fuming with rage and his feet were racing down the road back to where he came from. Little puddles of water in the street splashed up under his shoes and sprayed his legs with tiny droplets of water.
If that woman wanted to try and assume what his parents did wrong and assume things about his life, then he would have to see her assumptions for himself. If she said his family would be waiting for him, then he would need to see it with his own eyes.
He jumped onto the curb that lead to the nature path. Tracing steps from only days ago until he was kicking brush and sticks up behind him instead of puddles of water. He was running through the woods without a plan, being chased by nothing except his own troubled mind. Tears streamed down his face and blew into his hair. He was alone. He had achieved his alone time there in the woods as there was truly nobody there. The woman was wrong. His family hadn't been there to wait for him.
His feet stopped running and he stood surrounded once again by a supreme wooded environment. He turned around and walked back.
Walking out of the woods, he decided to take the front way home. It was faster and he didn't feel like taking a relaxing nature walk anymore. His front door seemed so far away.
Walking into his driveway and up to the front door, he laughed when he reached down to pick up half a pie that had been set on his doormat. He picked it up and unlocked his door, heading inside and throwing the pie away.
