The Ghost Boy (A Danny Phantom Fanfiction)

Chapter Six

If he does... I thought, tears escaping from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. I wiped them away. I was being SO stupid! I didn't even know who he was, yet I still felt for him, like he was close to me.

Mom, careful not to wake him, lethargically walked to the stairs and ascended them. I followed her, and Dad, after a longing gaze at the now neon green, swirling portal, reluctantly followed.

Dad and I followed her through the kitchen and the living room, then up the stairs. She turned left and came to a door, and that was when my heart stopped in its tracks again.

Nobody ever went in here... This was... I gulped... This was Danny's old bedroom. We just called it Guest Room No. 2, now.

I felt another tear rolling down my cheek, but I didn't wipe it away this time. Probably because I wasn't as ashamed as I was the last time.

I was always emotional when I thought about him... He was my... My breath hitched. My little brother... My only sibling... And he was gone.

In fact, he had been gone for ten years. Nothing was going to change that.

Mom and Dad hadn't tried to have another child, and for good reason. I could see why, after what happened to their first born son... Who knows what would become of their second son, or daughter?

Mom hesitated, but opened the door and slowly went inside. Dad and I followed, just as slowly, if not more.

The wallpaper was littered with planets and spaceships; the carpet was dark blue and fluffy. Since... The incident, Mom and Dad had replaced the cot with a single bed, in case more than one person did decide to come and visit, for they would have to sleep here. Clad in spaceship sheets, the bed screamed comfort, but I didn't dare even go near it. I never had.

I only just remember... Before he... Disappeared... Danny used to love space and planets. Dad would always lay with him on the roof and point out all the different star constellations.

If he was still here, he'd most likely wish to be an astronaut by now.

The window was closed, of course. I mean, nobody had even entered this room in years, why would the window be open? There was a desk to the left wall with a mirror above it and chest of drawers next to it. Both were originally white, but thanks to the dust build up in the room, the furniture looked rather grey, and that, along with the ocassional white appendage or ornament scattered around the room, complimented the blue.

Mom softly lowered the unconscious figure onto the bed, ran out of the room for a second, then came back in with a blanket from the airing closet. She carefully placed it on top of the boy, who's eyes were still closed, gently tucking the blanket into his sides. She stood up again, smiled and came to stand by Dad and I.

"Hopefully, he'll wake up soon... I don't want to keep him here forever... He's just a boy, after all. He must have a family somewhere."

"Mom," I started. "Why did you not put him in the other guest room? This is-"

"I know, sweetie... It's just..." Tears began to visibly spill from her eyes. "I don't know why... But he reminds me of..."

She stopped there. I don't think she could have said anymore, but I caught on, and I'm pretty sure Dad did too.

Mom ushered us out, and with one last peep in the room at the boy, sleeping soundly on the bed, she closed the door softly behind her. She put her head in her hand, "It's just..." She looked back up at us. "I don't know... I don't know what I was thinking... I can't think about..."

Without warning, she walked around us and gracefully ran back downstairs. Dad and I shared a look - the first meaningful look we had had in a while.