"This is me, my mom, my dad, and... Steven."
Deklan stared at the pencil drawing, specifically at the one called Steven.
He stared at his classmate, Tommy, blankly.
"And Steven is supposed to be...?"
"He’s my childhood friend."
"Dude," Deklan snatched the paper and pointed at the thing looming behind Tommy and his mom, a man-shaped shadow with limbs too long to make sense. "How in the fuck did you even think this was your friend? Look at him. He’s, like, five times your mom’s size—and his right eye is literally hanging by a thread! You’re ominous as fuck!"
"I didn’t think," Tommy looked down and fidgeted with his fingers. "I know he’s my friend."
"Aah... Forget it," Deklan waved his hand. "I forgot you’re autistic. Ghosts aren’t re—"
Before he could finish, the door to the classroom was opened.
An uptight girl in glasses stared at Deklan and Tommy before entering.
"Good morning, April!" Deklan cast a smile. "You look extra gloomy today."
April is the smartest one in class, organized and silent—and as a notorious bully and a deadbeat student, Deklan expected her to ignore him as usual. He had turned his life around, but once a bully, always a bully, it seemed.
Deklan was about to doom-scroll toktok, but his body froze.
"Good morning."
It was barely audible.
But with the thick silence looming over them, Deklan could hear it.
April actually answered!
Beaming with elation, Deklan stood up to approach.
"Then, should we study together for the final te—"
"Sit your ass back down. Don’t go overboard."
"Yes, ma’am."
...
RING!
Deklan immediately headed back home once the bell rang.
It was the last day of senior year finals, and all he wanted now was to go home.
After pulling late nights studying for weeks, there’s no way he’s sticking around.
He stepped outside while rummaging through his bag to see if he had forgotten something in class.
A frown crept to his face when he found Tommy’s drawing in his bag, "Why did I have this?"
"Yo, Deklan!" A student called. "Aren’t you coming to the gathering? Everyone is attending."
"Imma skip it. Got part-time to do."
"Really turning things around, eh? Usually, you’re only playing gam—"
"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off out of here. Hearing your voice after finals is the last thing I want to do."
"Well, fuck you. I hope you and your stupid bicycle got hit by a truck."
"Don’t jinx it, you piece of shit!"
The student gave Deklan two middle fingers as he watched Deklan leave.
Not even paying more attention to the background noise, Deklan hopped on his bicycle and headed back home. Other than feeling exhausted and drained from studying, he also wanted to deliver the good news to his old man.
He got a good feeling about the finals, so he’ll surely get good grades.
Ever since his mother’s passing, Deklan and his dad spiraled into depression.
It hadn’t been long since the two of them decided to turn things around—Deklan would start taking school seriously, and his dad would pick up a second job to get him back into the game—and keep them afloat. With about half an hour left before his father’s next shift, Deklan needed to hurry home.
Besides, it’s my birthday today. I’ve earned the right to sleep like a damn cow!
Upon arriving at his apartment complex, he quickly went up and stopped before his apartment door.
He took Tommy’s drawing from his back and grinned mischievously.
Let’s prank him.
Deklan entered his home, faking excitement as he took off his shoes.
"Daddy! Daddy!" He called, hurrying to the living room. "Daddy, where are you?"
"I’m here."
A middle-aged man stepped out of the kitchen—long hair brushing his shoulders and a mouth stuffed with what seemed to be potato chips, his fuel for the next shift. Dark circles hung under his eyes, but his tone carried a trace of dry humor.
He was Deklan’s father, Paul.
"Aren’t you cheerful now that finals are over?"
"Of course, I am!" Deklan smiled beamingly like an angel, but inside, he was smirking. "Daddy..."
"Call me daddy one more time, and I’ll give you a factory-reset slap," Paul clicked his tongue, annoyed.
He could already tell his son was plotting something, but he’ll play along.
"Look," Deklan showed Paul the drawing. "I put love and sweat into drawing this family of ours."
"Drawing? What are you, a two-year-old?" Paul took the paper and put on his glasses to take a better look. "If you’re drawing me, then you better make me handsome."
"This is me, mom, you, and..." His index finger traced to the corner. "Steven!"
"And Steven is supposed to be...?"
"He’s my childhood friend that I never told you about."
Deklan was grinning inside as he knew his father was a scaredy-cat.
He’ll surely be spooked by this.
But instead of worry or fear, Paul wore a pitying look and held Deklan’s shoulder.
A dramatic tear trickled down his face.
"Seems like it’s starting to show," Paul covered his mouth with his free hand. "In truth, you’re adopted."
"Eh...?" Deklan blinked, then it clicked. "Nani?! W-Wait a minute, what do you mean by that?"
"I’m sorry, son," Paul turned toward the door. "But I think it’s time for me to buy milk."
"Milk? But we still have milk in the fridge."
"It’s not that type of milk, you idiot!"
Feeling his head throbbing from his only son’s idiocy, which was frankly his fault for his bad genes, Paul put on his shoes and left. He cried dramatically, dropped a bomb that came out of nowhere, and refused to elaborate.
Deklan looked at the closed door, "He’s kidding, right?"
...
Even though it had been hours, Deklan was still annoyed by what had happened.
Paul was certainly playing a joke on him, and he was annoyed that he still felt uneasy.
Then again, the thought of being adopted was scary to think about.
"Nah, that can’t be right. He’s an idiot, and I’m an idiot, so there’s no way I’m adopted."
Deklan grabbed the remote, turned the TV on, and dropped onto the sofa.
He lay there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, replaying the image of Paul’s smile—the easy kind that once seemed impossible. Not long ago, Paul had been a shell of himself, brooding and quiet, skipping meals. Now he smiled, teased, and even stuffed his mouth with potato chips.
It was satisfying to see.
As a son, he always hated how Paul looked weak ever since his mother’s passing.
Now, Paul was back to look healthy and strong again, and it was relieving.
Deklan could feel it... their lives were heading in the right direction.
He wouldn’t even mind playing games with Paul for his birthday and eating something delicious.
And he would once Paul got back.
"It sounded nice to be home." He mumbled.
Except this wasn’t home anymore—this was work. His part-time job? Cemetery warden.
He saw a notice a couple of months ago searching for anyone without any qualifications, so he applied to help his old man keep the light on. It’s a night shift, and the cemetery belonged to some rich family, so a visitor is rare, which was perfect for him.
Other than cleaning the already-shining marble floor and trimming grass, he was basically free.
Browsing through the movies, he found a new horror movie and immediately clicked on it.
Why was he watching a horror movie while he was watching over a cemetery? It’s simple—to flex on girls.
Even though most called him a psychopath for watching a horror movie in a cemetery, it’s still good to tell the story, and he’s all in for it. A man has to be interesting—with his story, and he was sure nobody out there had the same story as him.
"Hihihi~"
Deklan paused the movie and sat up.
He might be mistaken, but he heard a voice—it sounded like a young girl was laughing.
Frowning, he looked at the corridor behind the hexagonal receptionist desk.
It was dark and eerie, the kind of dark that hinted that something else was lurking in it.
He couldn’t even see the end of the corridor.
"Tch," Deklan clicked his tongue, not afraid at all. "I forgot to turn on the lights there."
"Hihihi~"
As he was about to do just that, the laughter echoed again.
Now, it was clearer.
Deklan could hear it perfectly, and he had drunk coffee, so there’s no chance he was hallucinating. His mind was fully awake like a fully charged phone. If he heard something, then his hearing is most likely correct.
Just then, a pair of red orbs gradually manifested in the darkness of the corridor.
For something that appeared out of nowhere, these orbs suspiciously looked like a pair of red eyeballs.
And the height of these floating orbs... It’s suspiciously the same height as a five-year-old kid would be.
Almost four feet from the ground.
Of course, Deklan didn’t believe in ghosts.
Living in a dense metropolis, he found it hilarious that some people still believed in ghosts. If they truly existed, surely there’d be real evidence by now—not those grainy, 144p relics filmed on cameras that look twenty generations past their expiration date.
"But that doesn’t mean I wanted to test my theory," Deklan turned the TV off and grabbed his bag.
Ghosts aren’t real, but if there’s a chance that they are, he doesn’t want to find out.
Especially considering that this kid ghost is probably angry at him for watching horror in its home.
Instead of investigating, Deklan headed for the exit.
"Yeah, no. I’m not one of those idiots who go check out weird noises in horror movies," He tossed his bag over his shoulder and walked the other way—away from the two floating eyeballs. He locked up the front office, got on his bike, and pedaled off without even a look back. "Peace out, kid. Besides, I still don’t know if that stupid old man is playing around or not! Milk? What damn milk?!"
Nearing his apartment building, Deklan stopped by the crossroad, covered by the shadow.
He spotted Paul out front, standing by the apartment entrance.
"Fuck... I forgot it’s his birthday party," Paul cursed, tearing open the box of chocolate cake he bought in a rush and stabbing candles into it. "I just remembered and took a quick leave from work. Hopefully that brat didn’t realize I forgot."
He lit each candle, the tiny flames trembling as he cradled the cake in both hands and smiled.
Lingering on the cake, his eyes turned glassy.
"I promise to you, son," He whispers, tears slipping down his cheeks—real ones this time. "I know you have been hating to see me weak and sad for a while, and I’m sorry for showing you that disgraceful side of me. But no more. I’m going to be the dad you deserve."
Seeing his father weeping also brought tears to Deklan’s eyes.
"That idiot forgot I have work and thought I’m inside," He shook his head, but the smile betrayed him. "I know you’re trying your best, and I’m fine with it. Should I surprise him from behind?"
Grinning, Deklan crossed the road.
HOONKK!
He heard a loud honk coming from his left, but before he could turn, a devastating force struck his side.
And in an instant, everything turned dark.