I love that school. Though it’s awkward having the mirror as our mascot, we seem to be the best in the whole district. Besides, we won championship after championship since the eighties. We were announced as the school of excellence last year, and we just got a tenth of a million dollar grant! The arts are well involved, too…and our disciplinary level is so low that security just sits in the lounge all day. It’s really good. I walked into the office with a smile, greeting the receptionist, and I received my late pass to third hour: Drawing and Painting - Human Anatomy. It’s like art and science at the same time. We draw people instead of landscapes.

As I went in, Lloyd sat at the desk next to mine. Apparently, he was saving my last artwork project. It had an A+ on it. He received a B. “Nick, you’re the only one with an A in this class!”

“Keep yelling, Lloyd.” I covered one of my ears. “I just finished helping my family move.”

“Oh. Sorry, man.”

“It’s okay. Did I tell you about a ghost in my mirror?”

“You said something about it. Tell me more. I’m nosy.”

That was when I brought up Varu. As I told him how I saw him in the reflection and spoke to him, I could see his face cringing frightfully. He believed me. I knew he believed me because he’s a paranormal addict. He patted my shoulder and said, “I think he likes you. Really, dude.”

“I think so, too. Before I could leave him, he’d give me this saddened-eye facial expression. It’s not that it’s annoying; it makes me rethink my decisions because I haven’t left anyone in the ground like that. Lloyd, I just…don’t know what to do right now.”

Lloyd nodded, and he asked, “You said he reminded you of Nelda, right? That one girl who was recently beaten to death by that stupid kid who went here? Was she related to you or something?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know, but my mom was more than distraught when she found out what happened to her. To be honest, I did not want to talk about her. Still, I missed seeing her on the city bus every day. She would always look at me with a smile and cover her face with her long black hair. Hmm…I feel like I’m talking about Varu. That’s strange.

Lloyd and I heard a real familiar complaint: “Miss, why’d you rip up my ghost drawing? I was going to enter it in my English Class book cover contest next hour!”

“We do not draw ghosts in class, hear me? You’ll rot in the underworld for believing in that garbage and worshipping them by drawing them on paper. And being of a strict religion, I can’t have that in my face or I am condemned for the rest of my life. Go draw something else: like a flower. You need one of those, missy.”

Adela ran to the table and smashed her wet face into the surface. Once I asked what happened back there, she spun around and grabbed me; her tears spilled on my shoulder. “The substitute ripped my drawing apart and I did it all on the computer! She thought I was messing up the energy and she did not want it in her face and now I’m going to fail in English because we had to enter it in a contest! Whoever wins gets publishing rights, money and they can help a writer prettify their story! My characters looked just like you and Nelda, but Nelda looks like a boy, this time! It’s a mirror thing!” As she wailed, I looked at Lloyd, and then I returned my attention to her. I offered to help.

“Can you redraw it?”

“Of course, I can. I just have to keep it away from Miss What’s-her-face!”

“Okay, because, if you win this, there’s a story I’m writing and I think it’ll match the cover.”

“You help me. I’ll help you.” Adela let go, allowing me to breathe. (Finally).

The substitute walked over and looked at me strangely. “…Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t,” I replied, getting a bit nervous. My hands were shaking. Not only was she unpleasant to look at, but I felt like using the restroom to relieve my stomach from its cramps and bubbles.

All she did was grin her golden-tooth smile, and she folded her arms across her chest like I was so familiar to her. “I think it’s because I saw your lawyer of a father, years ago. You see, I was getting sued, and he was my attorney. Unfortunately, I lost, because he decided to dismiss himself. He said one of his kids was becoming a bit unruly.”

“…Which one?”

“If I take it, he said his oldest. He was drawing on all of his files.”

“Well…I had that habit, so I guess you’re right.”

“I hope you don’t turn out like that loser of a man. You look like neither of your parents. Were you adopted?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Maybe you were destined for greatness!” She pranced off, leaving me feeling even more ill than the two minutes before…and the ten minutes after I got here. I was already messed up after the whole thing with Varu.

The school day went normal, and as I walked home alone, I was met by my little brother. He was in tears.

“I hate your room!” he shouted at me. Seeing him like this surprised me. I thought he was more confident and less frightful than that. The one thing that bothered me was the fact that he went into my room. So, I asked him this.

“Why’d you go in my room, Timmy?”

“Dad told me to find anything suspicious, and when I told him there wasn’t anything wrong, I heard someone screaming like he was getting sliced or stabbed or something!”

I groaned. It must have been Varu…being in pain for the rest of his life. As we went home, I actually heard the noise. Excruciating…something to make my stomach churn even more. I bolted inside, leaving my little brother and rushed upstairs. In the room, Varu had fallen off the bed. He could barely even move: he crawled to a child’s pose and slowly rolled to sitting position, but I knew by his immense cringing that his back was the knife that sliced him. I went over and knelt in front of him. “You okay?” I think it’s the third or fourth time I asked him that. I lost count.

He nodded, and he told me with a slight hiss in his voice, “My scar ripped.”

My teeth gnashed with an uncontrollable hiss. I prayed it wasn’t bleeding or anything like that and I asked him if I could take a look. He gave me the go-ahead, and turned around. Those slashes on his back were massive. The whip had to be at least two inches thick and six-feet long to create the scarlet marks and tear his skin apart. At least the scars weren’t infected. That made me feel a tiny bit better.

When I felt the scarring, he spun around. The skirt of his Victorian night gown twirled and spread like a blooming rose. Finally, he gave an order. “Don’t place pressure,” he narrowed his already narrowed eyes. “It still hurts.” He was serious. I gulped as a result. That was the first time he snapped at me, but he spoke without yelling as much as my dad. I apologized immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. The one who killed me in my sleep’s living with it in his grave.” Varu sighed, and he stood up straight…slowly. “Why would anything be your fault?”

“…Huh?” I raised an eyebrow, not knowing what he meant by the question. “What do you mean?”

“You give me respect. You help me every single time. Everything you do is a positive. Everyone wants someone like that in their lives. Sadly, you came at a time when I was…lamenting about my ghostly appearance. However, I now have a corporeal body.” He moved closer to me. Though I took a nervous step backward, his feminine face still neared. He finally smiled at me. “I like you.”

My stomach dropped.

I had no idea how to reply. Should I say, “I like you too” or “I don’t like you like that?” Whatever the case, if I said anything, it wasn’t going to come out right either way. He smised, and then scratched at my neck with his nail. God, that was sharp! It left a cut, and not just any normal tear of the skin…that ghostly thing drew an eye! That’ll leave more than a scar on me.

Still speechless, I covered my shock by smiling at him. That move was first-thought and not my true intention. He took it as positive feedback. “I think I might have made you shy, this time,” he said to me. “I’ll let it sink in for a little bit.” That was when he nipped the side of my neck. I jerked, but remained frozen still as that mirror he traveled through. Varu whipped around and made his way to the pane.

I asked him, “Where are you going?”

“I'm stepping back into the mirror. You don’t want me to go?”

“I’m just wondering why—why you want to go back when you actually succeeded in getting out of there. Besides, isn’t it uncomfortable in there?” There I go; messing myself up again. He nodded, and came back, saying I was right.

“It was hectic trying to get out of that mirror. Maybe when I feel I need to, I could go back.” He stepped toward the bed and laid on it. When I was about to get ready for my own resting time, I just had to look at him. Varu stared right at me as if he wanted something. What else did he want besides me?

Finally, I heard Timmy. He knocked on the door. “Nicky, dinner’s ready! What are you doing?”

“I’m getting dressed for bed. I’m not that hungry.”

“Dad said you need to come down to dinner or else he’ll feed you with an IV from mom’s work. You remember that threat. Besides, you’re less than one hundred pounds. I’m almost there!”

“No, Timmy. I’m less than you. We both know that.” This was something I didn’t want to elaborate on the subject any further, but he pressed at the issue, which he was worried about.

“You checked your weight?”

“I'm eighty-something. I’m not hungry.”

“Yes you are! It’s pizza day!”

“I’m still not eating.”

“Fine. Dad will come up here.”

His quick footsteps dimmed out. I growled and sat at the edge of the bed. Varu heard everything, and asked about the sore subject. “…They believe you’re forcing yourself to starvation?”

“Yeah,” I said flatly. “I used to be real chunky, so I just stopped eating so much. After I reached a healthy weight, the stress made me even slimmer. Though I’m tall, I’m still lanky.”

“…I’m less than you.”

I turned my head. “Y-You are?”

“Seventy five. I was never fed by my parents. I had to feed myself in order to live.” He turned on his back. “Everyone at my school knew about it, and felt really sorry.”

“Eh, I don’t find that, now. They think I’m doing it as a strike against my parents. I’m not.”

“May I know your reason?”

I looked down at my lap, and knowing he was the only one I could trust, I gave him a small summary for a really hard reason. “About five years ago, my own parents were calling me many variations of the word Obese, and they told me to stop eating so much junk. Once I got slimmer and healthy, and after I got into soccer in order to keep it up, they still did not like how I looked. You see, I was growing my hair out and I started dressing as a non-preppy boy; not in fancy attire or in regular school clothes. More of chains and beanies like what I wear now. My parents decided to run away together to see if I would change. They…called my former principal on me, and he came to the house along with dad and mom. It’s crazy, but they took turns trying to shove greased food down my throat. That’s why I refuse to eat. I only eat when my stomach cramps for it.” My head hurt after telling him about that, and I lay down on my side.

Varu rolled on his side to see me. “That’s—out of line,” he told me quietly. “Now, I see why I never see you with food. It’s been a while since I had any. Maybe when everyone else sleeps, we could go and have our share.”

“…That sounds like a good idea.” I drew in a deep breath. “You know how you told me you liked me a few minutes ago? Was it as a friend or more?”

His smile did all the talking for me.

I continued. “I kind of thought about it. It’s not that girls don’t like me. Girls are too smart-mouthed. All they do is gripe and complain like they’re a forty-five-minute-long song that doesn’t even sound good. Though I never had feelings for a guy, I should experiment just once. Maybe it can tell me something about myself.”

Varu raised both eyebrows. If I was a mind reader, I could have said he thought I was giving him a chance. His straight-toothed grin did more than ease me, though. At least, he wasn’t in so much pain like earlier. I’m sorry, but I don’t like seeing other people in pain. It makes me mad. He crawled over to me and rested his head against my shoulder. “Do you think you’ll find something out if you do that?”

“It’s more than possible. I’m always trying to figure things out about myself that other people won’t or don’t understand. For example, the drawing. I might have been recognized for it, but it tears families apart. I mean—no one wants me to do it. All they want me to be is a self-loving lawyer.”

“Lawyers are hated.”

“I know, right. I’m afraid he’ll get jumped.”

We met eyes, and for that moment, my mind was a mere blur and I was only focused on the ghost beside me. He didn’t look like a freakish supernatural being anymore. More so, he was a friend with an evident, obvious crush on me. Either way, I was starting to feel less weird and more used to seeing him, though we just got to know one another. I rested my head on the pillow. “…You know, you can stay here if you want to,” I told him. “I’m not going to shackle you to the bed post.”

“I’m staying. Maybe I could scare away your parents.”

I laughed aloud. “That’d be good. Besides, I don’t want them in my room. Err…isn’t this your room?”

“You can say it’s yours. I don’t mind.” Varu shifted to rest on his back. “It’s a shame this is the only time my back doesn’t kill me. When I stand or sit, it just burns, but when I’m right here, it’s a different ordeal.”

“…That wound was massive, Varu.” I was still overwhelmed by the slashes. Abuse is abuse…especially with a whip. Maybe it was common in the older days, I’ll never know as much as Varu. “Are you sure you don’t want to bandage it or anything?”

Varu shook his head. “There’s no point in covering wounds that will always be there, Nicholas. Shielding it means cowardice to me.”

“So…hiding is a form of being shy and shielding?”

“Yes.”

I learned something from that statement. Maybe I shouldn’t be running from my family. Besides, Timmy hadn’t seen me since after school.”

“Your younger brother? He is…interesting.”

“I know. Still, it’s bad that they’re keeping the truth away from his eyes. I think he should know exactly what’s going on. Mom thinks he’ll be just like her. Oh, I hope not. She’s a depressed mouse if I knew it. Have you seen her?”

“The thin woman with the tiny voice? I have. She was too busy looking out the window. Do you think she’s still there?”

“Probably. You want to check?”

“I’ll follow you.”

So, we set our destination for downstairs. As the two of us crept, we could see the shadow of the armchair, and I peeked through the columns of the railing. There she was, sitting there. She was a sad, strange woman, and I was hoping she’d be happier…like Lloyd’s mom. She’s crazier than a diva.

Varu’s hand brushed my back and his cold hands ran across my shoulder. I turned to him, and his hand retracted. “…Are you okay?” I’ve asked him that every single time, didn’t I? He blushed scarlet.

“I…well…wanted to see something.”

“See what?”

“It’s nothing.” Varu really needed to open up, and maybe what he’s used to wasn’t my style. He shut his eyes and glided past me. “I’m afraid of being shot down and cast off as a freak.”

A freak? You? I thought about it, and when a simple, but unexpected answer came to me, I was a little bit unnerved. My answer must be right. Ever since we met, he’s just been after me and saying the only thing he wanted was me. It’s odd, but…maybe I should make him happy for both of our sakes.

“I…can’t think negative when I’m around you.”

“Never shall I believe the negative about you.” Varu smirked. “Should we fall, light will shine.”

He came much closer to me than before and whispered something in my ear. Though I could barely understand a thing, the foreign language made me more than weak. I felt myself becoming light again…especially when I shut my eyes. Once he drew back, we met eyes once again. I said nothing, but I think my half-closed eyes and serious face made him smile even more.

“Do you still want to descend the steps?”

“Sure, but—can my mom see you?”

“No, she can’t. I don’t trust her, so she cannot see me at all. You’re the only one who is able to see, hear, and feel me. You can even sense me from any direction. I think your brother can hear me, though.”

“My brother’s had problems with that…though he denies it.” Here’s where I start ranting. Timmy doesn’t know this, yet, but I think he’s some sort of psychic or something, because he heard Varu’s pain and before moving here, he’s been passing out from fright. Also, he tells me about his dreams: vague at best and mostly a collection. My dreams are stories, not potpourri.

Speaking of Timmy, he ran from his room, (which was across from mine) and tugged at my pant leg, screaming, “I saw a ghost! I saw a ghost!”

“Ghost?” I repeated. Varu hid behind me, hoping he wouldn’t be seen. I asked my little brother, “Are you sure you saw a ghost. If you saw one, I would have seen it.”

“Nicky, this ghost was scary pretty. I don’t know if it was a boy or girl but it was so close to you. You had you eyes closed and then it kissed you! Yucky!” He cried again, fell into fetal position and embraced himself. “It was freaky because you didn’t refuse him. Mom and dad don’t even do that!”

I grumbled. “If I see the ghost, I’ll let you know.”

Varu poked my shoulder and pointed to the armchair on the bottom floor. Mom had risen…and she looked up at me with her saddened face. “Nicholas….Timothy…why are you two not sleeping in your new rooms?”
“We just wanted to go downstairs to get something to eat,” I replied. Timmy rushed down the steps before I even started descending them. He hugged her leg and told her he loved her so much, but she scares him at night because she always sat at that couch. Mom’s eyes closed for a second as if she was actually taking the opinion into consideration. Once her eyes opened again, she looked down at him, and said to him, “You may. Timothy, mother’s feeling restless at the moment. That is why she decides to remain downstairs and resting on the armchair, staring out the window as she does in the morning and afternoon. To be quite honest, I am sensing a ghost is among us right now.”

I looked over my shoulder, and Varu was near the easel, which was used to pain pictures…and it was the one I brought from the old house. He picked up a brush with scarlet paint and began using his creativity to make a black and red forest that took about five minutes. Timmy screamed, “Who painted that?!”

“I did,” I lied, and I neared Varu as he set the brush back in its cup holder. He turned to me and told me to follow. Without another word, I went with him to the kitchen, where there was a walk-in pantry. The ghost entered first and I went in next. “You scared Timmy, I think.”

“For the second time? How old is he?”

“Ten.”

“That’s when he starts realizing.” Varu sat on the cold floor and neared the only window. The moon could be seen. “Soon, he’ll know the world around him…and what’s happening in his life. He will be able to determine what is right and wrong.”

“Varu, your voice is changing on me.” I noticed the confidence in his tone, and I beamed. “Is there something on you mind tonight?”

“Though we just met, there’s this feeling. I’m unable to shake it off.”

“Is there something you want to do? I mean—we’re alone, now.”

“You mean your family won’t bother us, now.” Varu smiled at me, and came forth. Grasping my hands, he stood on the balls of his feet. I had my eyes shut at this point…and the warmth that grazed the side of my neck surged through my veins. That heat moved from the initial place to a spot near it. Not wanting to look, I questioned him without doing so.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding a soft spot,” he whispered to me. I don’t think he’s a vampire, though he looked the closest to one. I have more than one of the so-called ‘soft spots’ and he was near. Once the warmth moved to where there was a dent in my neck, I jerked. He found it. My non-violent grunt forced the incoming warmth away. Varu drew back. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” answered I. I rubbed at the side of my neck. “You just pin-pointed a nerve. It’s nothing serious. I mean…it wasn’t because of pain, because there was no pain. The reason I nudged was because—” I shut my mouth. What I wanted to say was not going to come out like I want to. Being an adolescent and vowing not to mix up my morals already made the situation worse. Yet, I think this particular moment was going to change things. Varu must have read me.

His head shifted to the side, and he made a guess. “Was it because it made your adrenaline surge for a second or two?”

Bingo.

I pulled at my darkened hair and then massaged it nervously. My eyes feared meeting his, fearing my feelings would freeze my already frail heart. When I found it in me to look at him again, I told him frankly, “It did. Especially for it being the first time I felt something like that.” Riveted; the only word to describe that jolt of energy from what he did. I was tempted to wrap myself up in the rush, but having never dealt with such feeling, the moment was cut short.

Varu’s blue-violet eyes gazed at my neck for a second. “It’s red,” he said. I instantly pulled out a compact mirror from my pocket and examined what he saw. My neck was scarlet, and I could see markings all over. “You wanted to attack me, right? Or was this a call for help?” A call for help it was. The ghost’s eyes shut, and a single tear fell. I watched it stream down his pale cheek and fall from his chin to the floor, breaking into little less-than-noticeable particles. I think I hurt his feelings with the first comment. I said I was sorry, and to mean it, I grasped his wrists and pulled him closer, into a hold. That’s when I knew the flow of tears had just started, but the reasons were unclear. I just wanted to make him feel better.

Varu drew his head back to look at me, and his face came closer to mine. My heart jumped twice, but I listened to it. If that was what he wanted, I had to give it to him, no matter if he was a ghost-being or not. So, I committed a crime against my father’s wishes and my mother’s fears: a kiss that would fall into the darkness of my mind was given. He took it.

After holding on for at most seven seconds, we let go. Varu drew in a heavy breath and smiled fully. “How’d you find that remedy for my lack of bond?” He questioned. I think he was really asking why I did what I did. My reason was simple. I thought he wanted affection from someone who actually gave a care for him. That just made him delighted all together.

I heard banging on the pantry closet door. It was Timmy again. Apparently, he’s a door-hog. “Nicky, mom wants to know why you’re hiding in the pantry. I think it’s weird, too. Is there someone in there?”

“I’m reading my story.” I lied.

Timmy started one of his attitudes. I call it the Snap Mode. “That story’s starting to creep me out, and stop making those stupid noises like you’re crying or dying in your sleep or something!”

“Look, Timmy, if you don’t like it, then don’t ask about it!”

“I’m your little brother, though.” He finally calmed down. “Now, can I come in there so I can get something to eat?”

I grumbled, but I let him inside. The first thing Timmy did was look right up at my neck. “Dude, what happened to you? Did you get bit or burnt by something?” I made up another story, saying that I was scalded at school, but he caught on. He saw the marks. “Who’s your girlfriend? Is she a cat?”

“Girlfriend?” I gulped. “Dude, really? Girls are annoying to me and you know that.”

“So, who’s your boyfriend, then?”

“B-Boyfriend?” At this time, my eyes shifted to a smiley Varu. “Why do you say that?”

“You said girls make you mad and you complain about them all the time. Ever since that one girl was killed, you’ve hated girls. So, I think you like boys now. I don’t care if you do. Mom and dad might, but I think it’s cool. At my school, there’s a boy who likes kissing other boys’ cheeks and running off. So, was it girlfriend, boyfriend, just a friend or what?”

He caught my tongue at this point. Varu told me it was okay, because he meant no harm, but I’ve known Timmy to be Mr. Tattle-Tale. So, being honest would kill me. But, I sat down on the floor, and I asked him, “Have you ever been—confused, Timmy?”

“Lots of times.”

“You don’t get it. You’re only ten. Do you like girls at all?”

Timmy nodded, and he went on about this girl he talked to at school. “Jennifer is the girl I want to be someday. She’s quiet, likes the color black, has dark hair that sits on her shoulders…”

“You’re describing mother a little bit.”

“Don’t they want to marry their mothers?”

“I suggest not.” I was blunt. Who’d want someone like mom? I think she’s a tool rather than a normal human being. Actually, that word should have never been in the dictionary. There’s no such thing as normal. Not to me, there’s not. Then, I went on, going back to what I was trying to tell him a few minutes ago. “Let’s just say I have a bit of confusion. Ever since Nelda was taken from earth, I’ve been looking for someone just like her…and gender doesn’t matter to me right now.”

Timmy gave me a pouted lip. “Oh. Is that it, big brother?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Well…is it the drawing I saw in your room. The person with the long black hair and really pretty eyes? I’d rather you be with someone like that.”

He walked away and out of the room. Rid of him, I stood back up and looked at my ghostly partner. He was floating a few inches from the tile, and his smirk caught my eye again. “So, you have had me on your mind beforehand. I know who you’re talking about.”

“Nelda?”

“Yes.” He landed on his feet. “She was the only girl you crushed on before her untimely passing…murder. I have seen her. I…strangely resemble her.”

“Y-You do…” I couldn’t lie to him. Not at a time like this. “It’s as if I’m speaking to her…but in a form that I could never fully understand. Don’t take it offensively, Varu. You look just like her…even without what girls usually have on them, because she did not have that, either.”

“Is it possible that I may—be a version of her?”

“Possibly, hopefully,” I chanted to myself. “But I like you just the way you are, no matter if a part of her is within you or not.” What did I just say? I think this whole romance ordeal has my head screwed off. Varu grabbed my wrist and came two full steps closer. Our fronts touched. It was odd, being so close. I’ve never felt this trapped since being locked in my father’s closet two years ago. But this kind of caging is something else. This time, I had no way out…and I didn’t want out.

That night was something I could not forget. Even after he decided to spend the night encased in the mirror and after I rested my head on the pillow that used to be his, there was just this feeling. The feeling that fate brought me to have feelings for a ghost. Was I made a ghost in this world by my parents? Or are they ghosts that haunt me by living with me?