He entered the front yard through the open gate and walked towards the open door. The worst of the storm seemed to have passed, but the rain had managed to drench him completely on his way back home.

Behind him, he could feel Andres’ presence and in front of him he could see his Mother’s silhouette cut against the now lit interior of the house.

His friend had helped him get back home. He was still a bit groggy from the fall, but he had recovered enough that he had been able to jump over the wall mostly on his own.

Mostly…

“Hi, mom…” He said, trying to avoid his mother’s glare. “How’s it going.”

“How’s it going?” She asked. “You had me worried sick!”

“It’s not a big deal…” He said as he walked past his mother and into the house. “I’m alright…”

“Yeah?” She asked. “Then why do I see a huge bump on your forehead? Did that also happen to appear out of nowhere?”

Lucas touched his forehead and flinched with pain. “I…” He said. “I just bumped it a little on… on one of the beams… right?” He looked at Andres. His friend was walking into the house to cover from the rain.

Laura looked back at the blond boy, quizzically. Andres hesitated for a second before speaking. “S-Sure…” He said. “Yeah…” She looked at the boy. “I think it’s time for you to go back home, dear.” She told him. “I need to talk with Lucas in private, but thank you for all your help.”

Andres looked at Lucas, who was glaring at him like saying “Thanks for the help, dude.”, before turning around and leaving the house in a hurry, closing the door behind him.

Laura turned back to Lucas. “Are you gonna tell me what really happen?” She said. “You know I don’t like you going to that place, it’s dangerous, especially when we knew there was a storm coming.”

It wasn’t dangerous before when we went there together.” He said.

“But it is now, specially if you go there alone!” She answered.

“I wouldn’t go there alone if you came with me.” He whispered.

“What?” She said. “Can you say that again?”

“Sure! I wouldn’t go there alone if you came with me!” He repeated. “But when I left, you were passed out in the sofa!”

“I was tired!” She said. “I worked all night last night! Also, you’ve been going into your father’s studio again, haven’t you. I noticed his books in your room when I went checking for you.”

“So what!” He yelled. “It’s not like you care about those books, it’s not like you care about me for that matter! You are just making up excuses to get angry at me because it might make you look even worse at the hearing to have your son disappear in the middle of a storm!”

The slap reverberated across the house. “Never…” She said, tears beginning to run down her face. “Never say those words again, never dare say I don’t care about you.”

Lucas scowled. “So now we’ve come to this.” He said. “First you leave me alone with my sister after dad passed, then you get drunk enough that she has to go away and now you hit me?”

“No, I…” She said, moving one step backwards as she covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t mean what…” He said, his anger boiling inside. “You didn’t mean to hit me? Or you didn’t mean to get drunk today like every other day.”

She was quivering. “No, I… I…”

“You say you were sleeping.” He growled. Outside, the storm was picking up strength again. “But when I left you were so passed out in that armchair of yours that you barely noticed me walking by.” Lights flickered as he walked up to her.

“No, Lucas, I was just…” She hadn’t really noticed how much her son had grown in the past year until he stood in front of her, looking down at her.

“Just a bit tipsy?” He asked, mockingly. “Is that what you are gonna tell the people at the hearing next week?”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Don’t bring your sister into this!” She said, backing away from his son. She noticed he had his hands curled into fists. Lights flickered around them as the storm picked up the pace.

“Or what.” He asked. “What re you going to do? Dad asked me to look after you, you know?”

She blinked in surprise. “But every day.” He said as the lights behind him began turning off one by one. “Every single day I stay here with you… I find it harder for me to care enough to do so…”

Something exploded somewhere outside as the lights turned off all over the house.

Laura could hear his son turning away from her, ready to leave, and she reached towards him.

But she stopped herself from doing so.

For a moment, a fraction of a second after the lights turned off, she wasn’t so sure that who was in front of her was her son.

As she heard him run upstairs and close his door, she couldn’t help but feel that the darkness around her was thicker than normal.

—————————————————

Lucas slammed the door behind him and threw himself on his bed.

He had gone out of line.

He had felt so angry, so tired all week that he had exploded. He had said things he shouldn’t have said.

He knew his mother was trying to stop drinking.

He also knew that that wasn’t going too well, but that didn’t take away from her trying.

He knew his mother had been tired and that she was working night-shifts to earn more money.

He knew…

Yet…

He felt so tired, so angry, so…

“I don’t wanna be here…” He whispered into his pillow. “Anywhere but here…” He said.

He was startled by the sound of something knocking on his door. Had his mother come checking on him?

He turned on his bed to see that his door was slightly ajar. He had closed it before, he was sure he had done so, but then how had it opened?

He sat upright and looked at the door. It was dark before, yet some light was leaking into his room from outside.

A dim, grayish light that made the colors around him look dull.

He tried turning the lamp on his nightstand on to no avail. Whatever that light that was, it wasn’t electrical.

Lucas stood up and walked towards his door. He didn’t hear any noise coming from outside, no breathing no walking.

He was almost sure he couldn’t even hear the storm anymore.

He opened the door and drew a step backwards.

On the other side, he didn’t see his home’s dark hallways, what greeted him was a field of grayish green grass filled with tombstones.

On a daze, he walked past the door frame and into the strange graveyard. There was a lazy breeze coming from somewhere and the sky was covered in a thick layer of clouds.

As much as tried, he wasn’t able to find the sun in the sky, yet the whole place was lit with a soft light that made the colors look dull.

By the time he heard the door begin to close behind him, it was too late. Lucas had walked too far into this place to go back and stop it from closing completely.

He opened the now closed door and found it lead nowhere. He closed his eyes and walked through the frame only to find himself walking onto more grass.

It was then that he truly noticed how silent this place was. He whispered something and felt his voice sounded like a scream in the deep, deep silence he found himself in.

The green field extended as far as his eyes could see, with tombstones on varying states of decay laid side by side one or two meters apart.

It was a mostly depressing scene, almost like an endless cemetery.

But still, no fear came to him.

On the other hand, he felt calmer in there.

The anger on his heart had vanished and he felt like he was welcomed there.

Lucas picked a direction and walked. It wasn’t long before he saw other doors.

Not all of them were the same as his. Some were old and rackety, some looked brand new. He was sure he even found one that looked like a bathroom stall door.

He stopped walking when he found one that had broken down completely, only its frame remaining.

He tried reading the tombstone next to it, but whatever information had been written on it had faded long ago.

He began walking back and saw that, like the doors, some tombstones looked new and pristine while others had or where in the process of fading away, leaving only the dark stone as a memory of what had been once a person.

He walked back to his own door, finding it surprisingly easy to orient himself in the seemingly endless amount of tombstones, and looked at the stones close to it. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for.

'Antonio Aranda, father, brother and beloved husband. 1976-2021' Read the tombstone.

He reached down and touched the stone.

Images flashed in front of his eyes.

His dad having dinner with his grandparents in the pristine version of the kitchen he had spent time in earlier that day. He took his hand off of the stone.

“Dad…” He said. “It wasn’t a dream then…”

He walked up to his door and grabbed the pommel. “At that time.” He whispered. “I was wishing to be anywhere but home, so…”

He closed his eyes and thought of his room. He thought of his bed and his pile of books. “I want to go home.” He whispered as he opened the door.

He was hit by the sound of a storm raging outside of his window. He crossed the door frame and found himself back on his bedroom. He smiled.

Behind him, he heard someone knock at his door. He turned around, startled, only to find the door had somehow closed behind him once more.

He heard more knocking and his mother’s voice outside. “Lucas?” She asked. “Are you sleeping?”

The memories of their previous interaction came back rushing into his brain. He moved backwards.

“I’m… sorry.” She said. “I’m… really, really sorry for what happened before.” Lucas felt his heart squeeze as he heard her regretful voice. “I wasn’t thinking straight, I… I thought I had lost you too.”

He could hear her sobs. “I’m sorry for being this weak.” She whispered. “I will change, I promise.”

Lucas began moving to the door.

He had also been to harsh on her, he had to apologize, but he stopped right before grabbing the pommel.

Somewhere deep inside him this felt like retribution.

Somewhere deep inside him… this felt... right.

And so… he smiled and went back to bed.