I am not a Ghost ... You just can't see me

I am not a Ghost ... You just can't see me [12]

When I got back down stairs the house was alive with pointless bickering and whining.

For the remainder of the day I watched and listened to the antics of the residents, fighting over which football team was better, what new action flicks are going to be the most ‘wicked violent’ of the spring season. The conversation was very trivial, and much of it I had heard a hundred times through my years of invisible observation, and like always the topics bored me to tears.

As the evening settled in the pack of men immersed themselves in the kitchen cupboards looking for anything that might be somewhat considered food. The scene from the previous nights dinner arrangements re-played in front of me. Bickering over baked beans, wrestling over chips; I swear these boys were worse than a flock of seagulls and a French-fry.

Soon enough the pack of pig-men migrated to the living room, their arms full of ‘food’ from the kitchen. I sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen table and zoned out for a while, just counting the number of tiles that lined the bench top. My day of do-gooding and animal observation had warn me out. I would have gone back to the attic and hit the hay earlier, but my stomach was protesting immensely. I racked my brain trying to remember a spell that I could use to create a piece of fruit, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember it and unfortunately it was not one of the spells in my mother’s spell book, but one that I had stumbled upon when I was eight during one of my attempts to make up a spell that would make me visible.  I was obviously never successful but through the process I came up with some interesting spells.

 When movement caught the corner of my eye, I brought myself out of my thoughts and took notice of the two figures approaching the kitchen door.  It was dark outside so it wasn’t until one of them opened the door that I realized it was Lucus and Mari. When they got inside Lucus silently peaked around the archway into the living room before returning to the kitchen and nodding his head at Mari. I had no clue what they were up to, but it seemed interesting enough that I thought I had better check it out. Mari indicated for Lucus to get something from outside with her eyes and then went to check the living room fro herself. Soon Lucus returned with two bags of McDonalds in hand and the two of them sat at the kitchen table and hastily ate keen to quickly dispose of the evidence.

Two cheeseburgers later the Lucus had finished and got up, through away the evidence and headed to what I assumed was the attic while Mari sat at the table for a little while longer to let the junk food to settle. Unlike Lucus though, Mari Left the bag on the table when she left the room obviously not worried about the pig men discovering what she had had for dinner I guess. Out of curiosity I checked to see if the bag was empty, and to my surprise it wasn’t. Inside the bag was a perfectly intact cheeseburger. So in order to do my part in the fight against wasted food I grab the cheeseburger and make my way to the attic to get some sleep for a few hours before I started my nocturnal research to gather information about how deeply the residents sleep and how much I can get away with while they are sleeping.

 When I get back upstairs I notice that Lucus is sitting in his fort reading what I can make out to be the ‘Notebook’. I continue towards my own fort on the other side of the attic. I get into my sleeping bag and quickly drift out of consciousness.

 As soon as the dream begins to form I know exactly what will unfold; it is the same dream that plagues me every night. Though referring to it as dream implies that it is somewhat pleasant. It wasn’t. The dream was a time lapse of my lonely, invisible life since the night my parents were taken from me. I had hoped that my sub-conscious had finally given up on further scaring me with the constant replaying of the most traumatizing events of my life, since I had been in this house the dream had begun to shorten and there were even a few nights when it had let me rest in peace, but apparently not. My savior form the dream was that I could control when I wanted to wake up. I was never trapped, merely forced to face it because of my body’s need for rest.

 By the time I wake up it is some time around 3 am and from the utter silence that echoes through the house the other residents appear to be fast asleep. I open the attic door as quietly as I can before making my way down stairs the begin my night session of prank research.