A Lost Ghost

Chapter 6: Are You Scared?

     I looked down at my drawing I made in art class, checking it again and smiling as I admired my work. I yanked the paper down and charged towards the door. I swung it open and bounded in.

"Mama! Look what I drew in school!"

My cheeks ached as I smiled hard and held up the drawing. I waited for her to round the corner, gasp, and tell me how beautiful it was, but I didn't hear any of that. Instead, I heard clattering in the kitchen. My brows furrowed as I dropped my arm. My heart sank as I stared out at my empty living room. The couches, tv, and tables were gone.

"Mom?" I muttered. Another clash came from the kitchen. I walked down the hallway and turned the corner to see her ripping the silverware out of the drawer and shoving it in her bag. I cleared my throat and held up the drawing again.

"Mom, look what I drew in art class!"

She didn't look my way. My eyes drifted behind her where three huge suitcases lay. I smiled, excitement ripping through my body. Suitcases usually meant a trip to the beach. "Are we going to the beach?"

My excitement quickly dwindled as her narrowed eyes flicked to mine. My smile twisted into a frown. She didn't have to say anything. It all clicked for me then. At that moment, I remembered all of the screaming, all of the fighting that Mom and Dad would do. All the times, they swore to each other that they would leave. My heart sank, clashing to my feet and breaking into a million pieces. I glanced around the house again. She had taken the silverware, the pots, pans, clothes, furniture, everything she thought she was entitled to. I guess at the time, that didn't include me because she flung the bag of silverware over her shoulder, grabbed her suitcases, and started for the door. The drawing slipped from my fingers as I latched onto her arm.

"No, Mom! Don't leave!"

I curled my fingers around her arm, and she literally dragged me to the door. She threw it open and placed her stuff on the porch.

Tears burst through my eyes, and I shook her arm repeatedly.

"Mom, please! Please don't go!"

She shook her arm out of my grip and knelt down in front of me. She gently placed her hands on my shoulders. I sobbed as I stared at her, my tears blurring my vision, causing her to look like a blob of olive skin and black hair. She pressed her soft thumbs into my cheeks, wiping away my tears. "Why—why are you leaving me?"

Her face softened, her brows pulled back. She ran her fingers through my hair.

"I'm not leaving you," she said. She sighed and pushed me into her chest. I coiled my arms around her waist, sobbing into her chest. "When you're scared of doing something, you just have to do it scared, Miles."

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't even know what she was talking about. She pulled away from me and planted a kiss on my head. The tears continued to stream down my face as she flashed a gentle smile my way and turned. I stood in my doorway, watching as she packed all of her stuff in the car and drove off. The bitter cold slammed into my body, reminding me of how my mother's warmth was taken away. My brows shot towards the ceiling as I remembered something. Dad. He could fix this. I slammed the door shut and rushed into my parent's bedroom. The only thing that occupied the space was Dad's dresser. The rest of the room was stripped bare. I rushed to his dresser and threw open the cabinet, grabbing the spare phone he kept in there for emergencies. I quickly typed in his number and waited for what felt like an eternity for him to answer.

"Hello?" came his voice.

"Dad!" I sobbed.

"Miles? Why are you using the emergency phone? Is everything okay?"