The Boy Who Could See My Soul

Chapter 2

"This is it," I said. 

We were standing in front of my house -- the one that I had lived in with my parents. It had been vacant for a while, the light layer of dust inside being a good indicator. 

"I don't know where they are," I told him. "They're just gone." 

"Do you have any other relatives around here?" Silas asked. "Anyone that they would have gone to stay with... or visit?" 

I thought for a moment. "I have an aunt that lives in the northeast. She was the only one my mom was close to. And all of my dad's family lives in Washington." 

Silas nodded, considering. "I'm from the northeast. Where does your aunt live?" 

I said the name of a town near Cambridge. He only shrugged. "Can you remember her name?" 

I gazed at the picket fence that still held up to this day. "Do you want to see inside?" I asked him. "There's no alarm, and I think there's still a key underneath the flowerpot." 

A few minutes later, we were inside. I saw Silas's eyes widen at the medical awards on the shelf in the hallway, and smiled. Dad was good at what he did -- I had wanted to be just like him. 

"Are they your parents?" Silas indicated a family picture that we had taken when I was about seven. There I was, with bangs and one of my teeth missing in the front -- an awkward-looking child. Behind me stood Mom and Dad. Mom had shoulder-length red hair at the time, with loose curls. Dad had laugh lines and looked like the luckiest person in the world. 

"Yeah," I said quietly. "It was years ago, though." 

Silas's expression was serious, and he studied every picture on the mantle. We continued on like this for a while, until we ended up upstairs. 

"Is this your room?" He pointed at my door -- the one with a sunflower on it that Eden had painted years ago. 

I stayed outside as he searched my room -- I knew it didn't really matter at this point, but it was still sort of embarrassing. 

It was dark when we returned to Silas's house. I had been spending the nights in his living room ever since he had offered it. Something told me he didn't like being alone, either. 

"Won't your brother worry?" I asked him. "It's getting late." 

Silas rolled his eyes. "Cole only invited me here to please our mom. Besides," he added, "he's always away on business trips so he wouldn't have to put up with me anyway." 

I thought I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, but I could have been mistaken. 

I sat on Cole's black leather couch as Silas went into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. In this state of possible-ghost, I didn't have to do anything to take care of myself. It was both convenient and frustrating. Soon, my sitting turned into a sprawl and I was looking up at the ceiling. Would I ever go back to normal? 

I turned my head and gazed at the various bookshelves that Cole kept. There was something in the corner of one that caught my eye. When I drew closer, I realized that it was a picture of Silas's family. 

As a child, Silas was cute. He looked about as reserved as he was now, and had a small smile on his face. The boy that I assumed was Cole stood next to him, already in his teens at that point -- his face was confident, and he smirked at the camera. Silas looked almost exactly like him. The two people behind him completed the image of a perfect family. His mom was beautiful, with glossy black hair that was swept up elegantly, and beside her stood a stern-looking man. 

"What are you doing?" Silas said. 

I jumped. "Looking at this picture," I replied. "Your family looks nice."