A Little Ghost Help

~12~

Warning: Mentions of abuse, kicking, name calling, needles, ends on cliffhanger. Good luck.
Deceit pov
As soon as Patton turned to open the door, I made myself invisible. I'm going to follow him, and it does no good if everyone can see me. He turned around one last time and sighed when he noticed I wasn't there. I make it out the door before he shuts it and I heard a barely audible whisper, "Here we go."

He began his trek home. I watched as he winced at each step. Patton must have hid his pain when around people, he didn't appear to be in this much pain before. He was being painfully slow, and it took everything in me not to help. No. You are just following him to solve Mary's stupid mystery. I want to stay out of this as much as possible and go back to my lonely existence when this is done. You thought you saw some romance a few chapters ago? It was nothing! Drop it! No big deal. I just helped him and swore to avenge him. No big deal. Nothing romantic going on!

After almost an hour of walking, we reached a neat building. It was a single story house that was very well taken care of. Unlike the other guy's house, man 2's, I believe. This house was cold and seemed to have an intimidating feeling, which is saying something, coming from me and all. I literally live in a haunted house. Patton took a deep breath as he hobbled up to the door. "Just get it over with. You are brave." He whispered to himself. With that, he entered the house.

Then the glass shattered.

I whisked in when I heard a large thump on the ground. "You idiotic piece of trash!" The woman started to advance on Patton, who had ducked down to avoid getting hit by the glass bottle. Patton had ducked so quickly, he ended up falling and yelping in pain as his back hit the ground. "You pathetic, worthless, mistake!" She continued to shout at him. Patton was silent, taking in the insults and curling in on himself. He began to whimper quietly. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" She shouted at him and he looked up at her. She was now standing over him and glaring down at him with all the disgust she could muster. She smacked him hard across the cheek, but Patton barely flinched. I couldn't move. She grabbed Patton's hair and began yanking him into a different room. He yelped in pain, but couldn't do much with his bad leg. She continued to spit disgusting words at him as she dragged him to one of the many rooms in the house. She threw him on the floor. What do I do? What do I do! "Just wait till your father gets home, you filthy, no good, useless, weak, mistake!" She sent a forceful kick into his stomach and growled out her last words, "You better start working on dinner if you don't want us to have any more reason to punish you." She then marched off.

Patton began shaking and muttering to himself over and over, "Weak. Useless. Mistake. Not good enough. Try harder. Weak. Useless…" I couldn't stand it anymore! I rushed over to him and engulfed him in a hug. He had stopped muttering and had a confused expression on his face. His eyes darted around, but he couldn't see anyone. He clenched his eyes closed for a few more seconds as he tried to steady his breathing.

"I don't hear cooking!" A harsh shout came from another room and Patton scrambled to his feet. Or, he tried to. His crutch was left in the other room, so he had to crawl back to the front door to get it. Once he was on his feet again, he went into the kitchen. It was a large and beautiful kitchen with marble counters and two ovens. The cabinets were made out of rosewood and they were huge. Patton immediately got into a rhythm. He was someone else in the kitchen, even with his crutch. It was like he was home. This is his happy place and his kitchen. 

He pulled the dinner and cookies he had made out of the oven, when the front door opened. Patton froze. He heard footsteps and quickly retreated from the kitchen's entrance. He closed the oven and set the cookies on the counter. He checked the time. Seven. Patton mouthed two words, "He's late," the panic was clear in his eye. I guess him being late usually means a bad thing for Patton.