My Ghost

five

I enter the mansion for the first time in what feels like years. I hang my coat gently on the coat rack beside the door.

"I apologize in advance for the mess," my father says. "I planned on hiring a cleaning crew eventually but... never got around to it."

I go to ask him what he means, but my eyes land on a shard of glass lying on the floor outside the door to the kitchen.

"Dad, you can't leave glass on the floor, you'll cut your feet!" I scold, going over and carefully picking it up. As I rise, I realize what it's from. It's a picture of me just a little ways down the hall that had been thrown to the ground, the glass frame shattering everywhere.

My father waves his hand, dismissing my concern. "It doesn't hurt that bad."

I let his words sink in as I turn away from him, trying to hide my tears as I enter the kitchen. I toss the piece of glass before realizing the mess of a room I had entered. Empty liquor bottles line the countertops, cabinets lacked doors, and empty food containers lay strewn across the floor.

I lean against the wall as my heart pounds against my chest. This is all my fault. I did this to him.

"Ray?" my father asks, stepping into the room to find me against the wall. "Are you okay?"

I nod slowly. "I'm fine," I whisper, nearly choking on the words. "I just need to sit down."

"Of course, darling. Why don't you take a seat in the living room and I'll meet you in there with some water?" he suggests.

"Maybe wine?" I question, smirking at him.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Good try."

..

My father and I sit on the couch in the living room, facing one another. I have a glass of water in my hand, and glass of wine in his. I agreed not to drink any alcohol, just to make him happy for now. I watch him as he sips his wine, and I think of the night I saw him on the couch. Was alcohol the best thing for him right now?

"Why'd you leave in the first place?" he asks me, setting his glass down on the coffee table in front of us.

I take a deep breath, following him and setting my glass down. "Dad, I need to tell you some things."

"What is it?"

"The grapple hook you found... I was using that because I was helping Batman. I tried to hide it and keep it a secret but you were onto me. I was scared you'd be angry and I couldn't keep living two separate lives. I only left because I needed to figure myself out. I gave up on both lives and found a hotel to stay in until I understood what I was doing," I lie to him.

"Helping Batman?" he asks.

"He was chasing the Joker the night I was supposed to be kidnapped. I fought off Harley Quinn from kidnapping me and wanted to help. I followed Batman to the docks and sat atop of crate, scanning the area and alerting him of enemy positions. I was accidentally shot in the process."

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?"

"I thought you'd be angry for putting myself in harms way," I admit. "I thought you'd hate me for risking your reputation. I thought you'd hand me over to Commissioner Gordon. I thought-"

"I could never do any of  that," he tells me, grabbing my hand. "I love you, you tried to do the right thing. I'm proud of that."

I smile sadly at him. If only I could tell him the actual truth. "I love you too."

"So what happened? Where did you go after?"

I inhale deeply. "I went for a walk the one night, I was grabbed by the Joker. He faked my death and planned to use me as a tool of his. Recently, I managed to escape, but I don't know where he got to."