Talk To Me

Chapter thirty

Fifteen years ago

The room seemed barely visible as Leah opened her eyes. A pinkish curtain hung on the windows, giving the room rosy streaks. Her legs were covered in goosebumps as she stepped from her bed. She readjusted the bottom of her purple nightgown and peeked her head into the corridor.

The place seemed quiet as she looked to the left and then to right. The door in front of her held a small crack. She tiptoed to the door and pushed them. She wrinkled her nose as the door hinges creaked.

Oliver's chest rose and fell rhythmically as he lay in his bed. Leah took a step inside, but her head snapped back as she heard her father's voice downstairs. She turned around and shifted to the right side. She tiptoed to the stairs, noticing the door of her parent's bedroom held wide open.

She climbed down five steps and rested on the fourth step. Her father spoke in a firm tone and he used this temper just when speaking with Oliver. Leah knew Oliver remained asleep in his bed. Led by curiosity, Leah peaked to investigate. She turned her head to the left side until her chest reached her knees.

"I don't understand, how can she leave just like that?" James said, and Leah could make out the words clearly now.

"I don't know either, dear." The voice felt very familiar to Leah.

Leah gripped a brown railing of the stairs to contain herself. She felt a powerful urge to climb downstairs and greet her Nana. But she was a noisy little girl, and the conversation between the pair downstairs seemed too interesting to be interrupted by her.

"We have been fighting a lot for the last three years," James said.

"She said nothing to me," Mary responded. "Why were you fighting?"

"About the boy. What else?"

"Oh, James." Mary's voice seemed softer. "He just like any other boy."

"I can see why you think this way." James's tone turned bitter. "It's your fault he is that way. You know I never believed you. When you said you can see the ghosts and I'm not even sure I believe you now. I just don't understand how this even happened, he was normal for years."

"I agree that he has a gift because of me because it's inherited, but he is still a normal boy, James," Mary explained.

"How come Sophia doesn't have it?"

Leah just then understood that they were talking about her mother. Every so often, she would hear her parents fight. They would shout at each other, mostly about Oliver.

She shook her head, remembering what words her father often used to describe her brother, the words hurt her too. Not as much as they hurt Oliver though. He showed her all the frogs in the backyard and thought about how to catch them. He built her pillow forts and told her ghost stories there. Oliver was the best big brother, she thought, and didn't deserve name-calling.

"Because of her pills, of course," Mary responded.

"Pills?" Silence stood in the room. "What pills?" James asked again.

"She promised to tell you." Mary's tone seemed hushed, and it forced Leah to slide one more step down.

"What pills, Mary?"

"For her bipolar disorder." Mary sniffled loudly.

"Since when she has had that?"

"Since she was a teenager."

"Great." Leah noticed her father's shadow on the wooden entrance floor. "One more lie. Maybe it's good she left."

"You don't mean it, James!"