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Fiction

People were everywhere. The party had been going since 4 o'clock that afternoon. It was now 7pm. Craig just wanted to go home. The only problem with that desire was, of course, that the party was at his house. His parents had always been the outgoing types, frequently holding large gatherings, leaving on spontaneous trips, and throwing last minute parties. Any excuse to celebrate was taken and run with. 

While Craig admired his parents' ability to socialise without wanting to fall into a pit, he seldom shared their enthusiasm for large crowds. For the most part, Craig wanted to drop off the face of the earth, existing in a space of silence and peace. Unfortunately that didn't seem to be something that would happen any time soon, so Craig just crept through his house, watching scenes of chaos happen around him, and feeling rather left out despite the vast number of people crushed into their fairly large house. 

The stairs leading up to his room on the second floor were supposed to be off limits, in fact, the entire second floor was supposed to be off limits. Unfortunately his parents' friends and acquaintances were the 'rules were made to be broken' kind of people. While Craig often thought of that as an admirable trait in that they were the sort of people that would push themselves to thrive in life, it was rather inconvenient to him in this instance. 

When he finally reached his room, he was relieved to find that nobody had disturbed anything. It had been left untouched by the disarray that had swept through his house over the last few hours, and he slipped through the doorway, shutting out the noise behind him with the soft click of the latch. The clock on the wall read 7:30, and Craig gave an exhausted sigh. He should wait at least another hour before retiring for the night, could sit at his desk and do some of the work that had been piling up of late. 

Craig glanced at the mound of papers on his desk. His bed was calling him, and he'd never been one to ignore the call of a good night's sleep. He prepared for bed, then rolled under the soft doona cover, his eyes heavy as his head hit the pillow.

Craig's last thought before falling into a deep sleep was a wish. He wished he could just disappear. 

Light and the sounds of birds rising for the morning filtered through the thin curtains in Craig's room. He batted at the bedside table, searching for his glasses by touch alone. It wasn't working. He squinted at the surface, trying to find the lump that would indicate where his glasses were sitting. They were teetering on the other side of it, half of them hanging over the edge. He let out a huff before reaching over carefully to grab them. 

They were his third pair of glasses for the year. One pair he'd lost, another he'd broken trying to jump a fence. The second pair had fallen off his face halfway through the endeavour and he'd later landed on them. The crunch wasn't worth the satisfaction of proving to his friends that he could, in fact, climb over the fence even with the barbed wire attached to the top. The cuts and bruises that covered his body for two weeks afterwards were also not worth it. Nor was the scolding he got upon his return home for his 'reckless behaviour'. 

His mother's voice drifted up towards him, urging him to get a move on. It was a school morning after all. He always wondered how his parents managed to balance their booming social life with parenting and work, but somehow, they did. He couldn't imagine driving three kids to school the morning after a rager would be particularly fun, but he'd never once heard them complain about it, and they'd never made their kids find their own ways to school, as easy as it would be. They'd always made a point of taking their children to their various commitments, both in and out of school.

Craig's mother's voice came again, more insistent this time, and he grabbed his bag from next to his desk. Breakfast would have to be light. He was halfway down the stairs when his mother huffed impatiently. 

"Craig, we're going to be late." Craig paused, shrugged, then kept on down the stairs. His mother's expression of irritation didn't change as he hustled into the kitchen, grabbing a random chip packet and made himself a quick peanut butter sandwich for the way. It was only when his mother muttered something else that Craig stopped in his place, staring at her.

"Where is that boy. He's almost never late for anything." He'd have been visible to her when she called him on the stairs. He'd walked directly in front of her on his way to the kitchen. She was currently facing him as he stood in the middle of their dining and living room, a sandwich in one hand and his drink bottle in the other.

Craig looked down at his hands. He could see them perfectly fine. He waved them in front of his mother's face. Nothing. Not even a flicker of her eyes to indicate she'd seen any movement from his direction.

"Andy, can you check on Craig please? He hasn't come down for breakfast yet and we need to leave for school." His father's response was difficult to make out, but it sounded along the lines of 'go ahead I'll take him'. His mother sighed and grabbed the keys, ushering his sisters out the door and piling them into the car. They hadn't seemed to notice him either, though that was less odd. They tended to be off in their own little world, playing fairies or princesses or knights or swamp creatures. For some reason they really, really liked swamp creatures. Craig supposed he couldn't blame them. Swamp creatures were pretty cool.

He could hear his father knocking on his door upstairs, so he drifted up towards his room, watching his father knock and call out his name. A small part of him wondered if this was some kind of elaborate prank his family had thought up to mess with him. A larger part of him was still replaying his mother's lack of response when he'd been waving his arms about in the kitchen. Her eyes hadn't even moved. She'd just looked right through him. 

Craig's father gave up on knocking and opened the door to find the room empty. 

"Craig?" He called it like Craig would be hiding in the wardrobe, waiting for someone to come in so he could come bursting out of it to scare them.

"I'm right here dad." His father continued scanning the room, even going so far as to look under the bed. The bed looked neat, and Craig frowned. He didn't remember making it that morning, had been in too much of a rush to get downstairs so they weren't late. His father became more frantic. He spun around, looking straight at Craig, and Craig began to relax, but when his father walked towards him, then through him, Craig began to worry too.

He followed his father out of the room. Reached his hand out to grab his arm, only to have it fall through and back down to his side. He looked at his hands again. He could see them. It would appear no one else could. They felt tangible to him, but slipped through his father as though he were a ghost. Perhaps he was a ghost. He shook his head free of that thought. No body, he thought. 

If he were dead, there would be a body. Though, perhaps he'd been murdered somewhere else, while his soul remained tethered here. Craig sat down, sifting through his memories of the night before. They finished after going to beed. Surely he'd have woken if someone had come and tried to take him while he was sleeping. Maybe they'd killed him in his sleep and then taken the body. But there wasn't any blood on his sheets, and means of killing other than being stabbed somewhere important probably would have woken him up. Yes, he nodded. Not dead. It had to be something else.

I wish I could just disappear. Maybe he had, just not in the way he'd meant. 

"What are you thinking about?" The boy's voice directly next to his ear brought him out of his thoughts fast as a whip. He spun around to find a boy about his height with light coloured hair watching him with a thin, polite smile on his face, as though he hadn't just scared the living daylights out of Craig. He was wearing odd clothes, like he'd walked straight off the set of an old timey movie where they wore old fashioned clothes.

"Hello," he said cheerily. Craig stared at him. The boy waited, like he expected Craig to respond in a meaningful way while his brain refused to function. The sudden appearance of a strange boy inside his house wasn't helping. 

"Why are you here?" When Craig finally found his voice, it wasn't to ask the most pressing question he had, but he supposed it would do for now. The boy looked at him funny, as though showing up at a random stranger's house was a regular, every day occurrence, and Craig's question was the weird thing here. Craig's irritation must have shown on his face, because the boy wiped the mix of curiosity and bemusement off his face, replacing it with the same benign smile.

"Apologies, most of you guys ask who I am, how can I see you? Sometimes it's what are you, but those are the particularly rude ones of the bunch. No matter. I'm here to explain." Craig's brain caught up with him then, and questions came spilling out like someone had just unplugged a pipe somewhere in his head.

"Who are you? And how did you get into my house? Why are you wearing those clothes? Why do you speak with a funny accent? Why can't my family see-" the other boy held both his hands up, willing Craig to cease his rapid fire. 

"Woah there. Slow down a little. Let me explain a few things first. I may just end up answering a few of your questions." Craig let out a short breath. Distantly, he could hear his father on the phone.

"No, I checked his ro-...of course…his bed hadn't been slept in. You know he always leaves it a mess…nothing's missing, I checked his drawers. Maybe we should call the police?" Craig winced. He couldn't be sure, but out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the other boy mirror his reaction. He muttered something along the lines of 'must get that sorted' then launched into the strangest spiel of nonsense Craig had ever heard. 

"So you're not dead. To answer what was probably your first question. Well, you basically are. Physically, you're not dead, but to anyone from your life, who knew you, you may as well be. You're one of the disappeared." He said it like it would explain everything. Craig stared at him blankly. It did not explain everything.

"You wander the earth, helping lost souls. Sometimes they're dead, sometimes they're living. No one has ever really figured out how you guys came about, but the disappeared exist to guide those in need of guidance. They become disappeared when someone close to them is lost."

Craig frowned. He didn't want to wander the earth looking for lost people. How would he tell if someone was lost or in need of help? What was he even meant to do to help a lost soul? He pulled his thoughts short. Why was he even thinking about these things, he could just wish to not be disappeared. That was probably how this happened in the first place.

"How did I become one of these disappeared people? How do I undo it?" The boy shook his head, placing a firm hand on Craig's shoulder, and for the first time, he wondered how old the other boy was. He certainly looked Craig's age, but his mannerisms, not to mention the clothing, said other wise. It was probably why he sounded funny too. 

"How old are you?" The other boy blinked.

"I can't say anyone's ever asked me that. Not since I died anyway," he paused, thinking, "you know, now that you mention it, I'm not entirely sure. It's been a while since I died. The world has certainly changed. I was fifteen when I died, let's go with that." Unnerved, Craig resolved not to ask more personal questions of the other boy. He was almost certain he didn't want to know more.

"Anyway. On to your other questions. You became disappeared because you wished for it, and I granted your wish. You can't undo it."

"Then ungrant it. I didn't mean it." The boy frowned at him.

"Why would you say something you didn't mean? No one else was even around to hear it. And I wont ungrant it. The disappeared are needed. Don't worry, you'll make a new family out of them. I promise you will want for nothing, and your thoughts and feelings will always be important to them. Don't you want to help the lost soul who needs you?" Craig pulled away from the boy. He shook his head. 

"Undo it." The other boy's smile fell, and he seemed to crumple a little.

"That's not how it works. I can't just undo it. You wanted this. You truly wanted to disappear, and the only way I can undo this now is to replace you with someone else. But I can't replace you with anyone, I have to replace you with someone who can guide the same person you are meant to guide first. It would be someone close to you." It was frustrating, and Craig found himself suddenly hot with anger at the boy who had foolishly granted an impulsive wish. He stopped himself.

The wish hadn't been impulsive. Not really. He loved his family, he did, but his parents were loud, so incessantly loud, and his sisters were always off pretending to be anything else. They were his loud parents, and his strange swamp creatures, but perhaps…perhaps they would be better off without him. He could make a difference this way, help the lost souls of the world, watch the world go by without being a part of it. This was what he'd always wanted, a part of him had always longed for.

The boy watched him firm his resolve, then handed him his phone. Craig had given up wondering anything about the boy, so he didn't worry about how he'd gotten ahold of his phone, just picked it out of his hand. Strangly, he could hold it without it slipping through his grasp. Maybe it was just people he couldn't touch. He stared at the phone, then looked up at the boy, confused.

"You have one phone call that will work. Make it count," was all he said, before he disappeared into thin air. Craig blinked slowly, staring at where the boy had been, then rolled his eyes. The absolute nerve to just disappear after saying that. He pushed the button for his dad.

"Craig? Where are you? Are you ok? Your mother and I are worried sick. Come home. We can talk then." Craig was beginning to realise he was more like his parents than he cared to admit.

"Dad…" he talked slowly, thinking through how he wanted to say things, how to make him understand.

"I'm not coming home. I never will. I love you guys, but I'm needed for a different purpose. You can't look for me. Don't look for me, move on. You won't ever find me. There isn't a body, I'm not dead, but I'm not a part of your world anymore either." There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds, then his dad spoke again.

"You're…" he seemed to be collecting himself, letting Craig's words sink in.

"But you're ok, yes? No one is hurting you? You're safe?" Craig smiled, nodding.

"I'm safe. No one is going to hurt me."

"You're disappeared aren't you. I knew someone once, but nobody else could see her…she helped me a lot." It stunned Craig into a silence that seemed enough confirmation for his dad.

"Just…if you ever can, check in every once in a while yeah? I'll do my best to explain to your mother, and the girls. We'll be alright. Just do your best to help whoever you need to." The phone call clicked as his dad hung up. 

Another voice sounded near his ear, a familiar one this time.

"Craig? What's happening? Where am I? Why aren't I…why aren't I in class?" Craig turned slowly to see his little sister, bending down and opening his arms.

"Hey it's ok. I've got a few things to explain to you." He was trying his best to hold back the wave of emotions that threatened to engulf him as he held his little swamp creature.

"I don't know a nice way to say this, so I'll say it, and then we can talk more ok?" He felt his sisters nod against his shoulder.

"Ok. To start, you're dead. But it's ok. I'm going to help guide you."

January 28, 2023 04:31

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1 comment

Wendy Kaminski
00:15 Feb 03, 2023

Terrific story, Alex! I really liked how you wove the standard ghost story into a calling, and the way that Alex accepted it at the end. The twist with his Dad was a neat one, as well. Thanks for the intriguing tale, and welcome to Reedsy! :)

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