Talk To Me

Oliver had been sitting in the attic for an hour now. Yep, definitely just sitting. Not hiding in his room, thinking about how five minutes ago he’d just previously ruined his life. The stillness of the room brought him back to the time before he met Samuel. Without the ghost hanging over his shoulder, his old room was eerily quiet. Quiet except for his thoughts tearing at every brim of his consciousness. They all seemed to yell at him:

Why did I do that?

Why did I tell them?

Why am I so stupid?

These thoughts even scared Oliver now. Being told he was a smart boy who could solve any problem, hadn’t really prepared him for this. He hadn’t meant to come out to his parents. He had been tuning them out for so long, just figures under the stairs. And he told them he was gay. He hadn’t even told Samuel that. Oliver thought that he didn’t need to. It would just come out on its own. 

Something crashed downstairs and broke Oliver out of his thoughts. He reached for the rusty handle of the door latch but recoiled when the cold metal touched his skin. Maybe he could just leave with Samuel. Well, that was the plan, right? To just run off to the School of Magic. Leave their past behind and create a new one. It seemed like a good idea at first until they realized that they needed money. And literally everything else. He was, after all, a broken magician. How could he help them both if he couldn’t even cast a simple warming charm? 

He looked down at the floor and noticed that the ceiling was leaking again. A small stain of water had formed on the crooked floorboards. He looked up to find where the hole was just to feel the water run down from his own eyes. Oliver had only cried once, and that was when he broke his leg falling from a tree. When he had fallen, the whole world had flashed before his eyes, chest heaving with so many emotions and fears. It was also the first time he felt true fear. He loved that tree. He would go up there every day right as the sunset. He would sit up there every day writing away in his journal until his mother spelled him down. 

His mother, not really his own. No, that woman downstairs was a surrogate mother. His mother had died fighting the illness that made her unfit to give birth in the first place. His father, then, decided to marry the surrogate. They didn’t feel like his family. Overflowing with power Oliver couldn’t grasp. They flaunted it everywhere all the time. It was an ocean of magic he couldn't seem to swim. 

He wiped his eyes and turned towards the hatch again, prepared to face them downstairs. Samuel was standing there, his transparent figure levitating over the hatch. He smiled awkwardly, his eyes not meeting Olivers. 

“Sorry Oli, would’a come down sooner, but your parents kinda suck.” He felt a small smile climb onto his face at the comment until the thoughts came rushing back to him along with the tears. He felt pathetic, curling into a mess at the ghost’s feet. He wished he could melt into the floorboards. He felt the warmth of a hand on the small of his back. Samuel had sat on his knees next to him and leaned his head down so that their eyes met, brown to brown. 

“Oli,” he said smoothly. “You know I wouldn’t care if you were gay. We’re in this together, right? You can tell me anything.” He smiled that big grin, where the whites of his teeth were the brightest thing in the room. “You’re stuck with me. You couldn’t get rid of me if you wanted to.” He smiled back at that. Lifting his head up, still on his knees, he looked over at Samuel.

“So...what do we do now? I have a feeling my parents are going to kill me in about 5 minutes.” His voice shook as he spoke, but he pushed each word out. “Well,” said Samuel, “I think I know why your magic isn’t working. I also know, where we can go to fix it.” 

Samuel then abruptly floated up and through the roof. It was their secret meeting place, where no one could find them but the wind. He climbed up the ladder, listening as each step creaked. 

The truth was he was still afraid of heights. Ever since the tree incident, he felt queasy every time he felt the wind brush his face. Though, this time it was gone. He just felt free, the air ruffling his oversized clothes. Samuel was there, sitting against the railing of the roof porch. Oliver almost laughed at how still he was. Unmoved by the wind. 

“So, what’s the plan, and when can we leave this place?” Samuel’s eyes locked with his. “We don’t. Not for now. Not until morning. There’s something we need to talk about.” 

He fought back a shiver as the wind prickled his skin. It was oddly cold tonight.

As if he read his mind, Samuel’s right side flickered with fire. A fire that wouldn’t burn. He found it interesting about ghosts. When they died, their magic never left them. Instead, it became a ghost too. In Samuel’s case, it was a fire that didn’t burn. Nevertheless, he curled up by the rail, next to the ghost. The fire licked at his skin, but it felt like freshly dried clothes, the heat running all over his body. 

“I realized a long time ago that there was a reason why you couldn’t perform magic,” started Samuel. “I knew it couldn’t be the magic, since you are a Soc, one of the rarest and most powerful magicians in all of Kine.” His words weren’t mean, but they still made his heart sink.

 “Then I realized it was you. You were the problem.” Realizing what he had said, he flipped his head to Oliver, “Not like that...sorry.” He coughed awkwardly and turned his gaze back towards the house. 

“You didn’t believe in yourself in the first place, and it almost seemed that the magic realized that and became nervous.” He chuckled and closed his eyes, feeling the railing through his hair.

 “Bad analogy, but you get me right? We need to get your confidence up if we're gonna ever get into that magic school of yours.” 

“But-”

 “No buts,” interrupted Samuel. “We’re gonna take a walk, and your gonna spill all your feeling beans. We’re then going to sort through that pile of emotional baggage and help you! Capiche?” Oliver laughed, a raspy sound in the back of his throat. 

“Okay.” 

“Good!” Grinned Samuel, his eyes glittering with challenge. “I knew you just couldn’t resist a walk with yours truly.” He held out his hand to Oliver, which was no longer ignited with ghostly fire. Oliver tried to grab it but realized it wasn’t going to work only as his hand passed right through Samuel’s hand.

“Sleeve,” he said simply. Right. Non-living objects he could grab. He pulled his sleeve over his hand and off they went, on their secret journey.