Seven Devils // lashton/muke

chapter five

Michael was getting ready for school when he saw Luke again, who was sitting on his bed holding up a razor blade necklace. "What's that?" He asked as he watched the blonde boy carefully.

"It's your's, isn't it?" He asked and the kid's blue eyes soon met his own green ones. He seemed saddened.

Michael nodded as Luke ran his finger over the blade, making Michael reach forward to him. "Don't do that you'll..."

Michael stopped himself, realizing that Luke couldn't hurt himself. He's dead. How could a dead boy hurt himself even more? Ghosts don't bleed. They're not alive.

"Why do you have a razor blade necklace?" Luke asked, stirring the conversation away from Michael's stupid comment.

"It's not mine. It's my friends. We're uh... we can be real assholes and it was a joke because we kept telling one another to kill ourselves." Michael answered and saw the bracelets on Luke's arm move as he messed with the necklace.

"It's not a very funny joke." Luke commented in a monotone voice, tossing it away as he wrapped his arms around his legs. "Suicide isn't a joke."

"I know that now, but it won't stop me from saying I'm going to commit the next time somebody tries to test me or I can't figure a math problem out in algebra." Michael chuckled half-heartedly before sighing. "I hate school."

"Thornbury High?" Luke asked as Michael slipped his black leather jacket on. "Kind of ragged looking and devoid of all personality and originality? Everyone is just... the same?"

"Yeah actually. Everyone and everything kind of does look the same around there." Michael nodded as he looked at Luke through his mirror. "Did you attend that school?"

"Yeah, my ex boyfriend and I." Luke nodded and then took a deep breath. "I was that loser, emo, music junkie that always wore band tees. He was the kind, charismatic, football player that could kick a field goal in his sleep with a cast on."

"You were in love yeah?"

"Yeah..." He hesitated before nodding his head. "I guess you can say that, yeah."

"That must be nice. I've never been in love, or even in a relationship. What's love?" Michael laughed before pulling a black beanie over his messy hair. "I've been single all my life. It's pretty sad actually."

"No way." Luke told him, and Michael looked down at his black combat boots. "You're lying..."

"I'm not. I just haven't found that perfect boy, you know?" Michael sighed as he crossed his arms. "I don't want to waste my time with the wrong people."

"That's part of the experience, I guess. It'll kill you sometimes... make you wish like you were dead and never met the person." Luke trailed off, and Michael turned around to find him staring into oblivion.

He wonders where that came from, and if he was okay. Maybe someone hurt him before he died, like the boyfriend he mentioned before.

Michael thought on and on about what Luke's told him, trying to piece together the information in hopes he could understand why Luke was here, why he died, and who the fuck this Ash guy was. He didn't come up with any reasonable answer, so he just sighed and decided to forget about it. It wasn't his problem anyways.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Luke asked, and Michael rose an eyebrow at the ghost boy.

Ghost boy, I have to keep that, Michael chuckled to himself since he liked the nickname.

"Not at all." Michael responded, shaking his head as he fixed his blonde fringe, brushing it out with his fingers.

"Sorry."

"You never did tell me who Ash is, you know, from last night." Michael reminded and Luke seemed to freeze at the mention of his name. "Who is he exactly?"

"You've got to go to school." Luke immediately responded, and Michael ran his tongue over his lips. "You'll be late for class if you don't."

"Doesn't worry me." Michael hummed, crossing his legs as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He leaned against the dresser, and then stared at the boy with an amused expression.

"Ash is no one. He's just a uh... a figment of my imagination." Luke clearly lied, fiddling with his fingers as if he knew his lie was bullshit. Michael knew it was bullshit, but he let it fly.

"Can ghosts hallucinate?" Michael asked, changing the subject for now. "You're dead."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me." Luke fiddled with his bracelets as if they were the most important thing in the world. "You should go."

"Come walk me."

"I can't leave the house." Luke deadpanned as Michael pushed himself off of his dresser. He made his way to the door, curling his fingers around the strap of his bag.

"I didn't say walk me to school. I just said, walk me." Michael repeated and smiled, watching as Luke's light body lifted himself off the bed. "For a dead boy, you're cute."

"Would that that be necrophilia?" Luke asked, his thin lips pulling into a smile

"Your body isn't rotten, bleeding, or even hurt, so I'm not sure. You look like just another boy to me." Michael admitted and Luke shrugged.

"I guess you just have to get to know someone before you can assume." He smiled sadly and Michael agreed as they stepped towards the front door. "I can't walk you any further than the yard."

"Then take me to the yard." Michael hummed and then opened the door, letting Luke walk first as his body went invisible. "God, I must look crazy."

"It's funny to think about." The blonde giggled as Michael closed the door behind him. "Have fun at school."

"Unlikely, but I'll try." Michael nodded, turning towards the house in front if his to find his neighbor pulling the curtains back and opening a large window. He smiled, and Michael turned away.

"He's so weird. I hate him. Like... he just screams psycho." Michael huffed and Luke was silent. "Luke? Are you there?"

"You gotta go, now." He heard a rushed whisper. "Before he comes, go."

"Why? Is he some kind of murderer or something?" Michael asked and felt hands press against his back. He shivered at the touch, and hissed when he was shoved forward.

"Just go."

And Michael complied, only glancing behind him and then at the house across the street before walking in the direction of his school, shaking off the heavy feeling in his stomach.