Chapter 1 #3
“You better iron that shirt, then,” Mal’s dad said, a grin on his face. “I should have something round here. It might be a bit big on you, though. I think Brode has an old suit up here somewhere. One sec, I’ll dig you something out.”
At that moment the door opened and another, smaller skeleton came sauntering in.
“Mal, I didn’t know you were home,” Mal’s mum said, striding forward and giving him a hug. Mal cringed at the sensation of bone touching his flesh. “Is that your dad rummaging around over there?”
“Just getting a jacket for Mal, he’s got a fancy event tonight.”
“Oohh, very nice. Come on, let me iron that shirt for you. Then you’ll look proper.”
“Thanks, Mum,” Mal said.
“Take this on your way down,” Mal’s dad said, hauling a heavy box of assorted rubbish into Mal’s hands.
Mal was in for it now; there was no escaping his siblings.
At least he’d caught his parents in a good mood.
He awkwardly lugged the box down both sets of stairs and arrived in the living room to a familiar audience.
“How’s it going, creep?” Brode said, upon eyeing him. Before Mal could respond, Brode spotted their dad holding his jacket and walked off to protest it “being given to that walking stool sample,” which Mal took to mean himself.
“Give us ya shirt then,” Mal’s mum said, setting up the iron.
Mal’s dad had extended his illusion to include his mum now, so everyone at least appeared to be in the land of the living.
Mal felt even more exposed as he stood around shirtless, receiving the stink eye from Inva and Pelonie.
Brode returned moments later to give Mal a few words of encouragement.
“That jacket better come back in one piece or you’re d—”
A pause came over the room as Brode nearly broke the number one rule of the house. There were many rules, and most of them applied to Mal, but the main one was this: Don’t mention death, or any variation on it.
“—done for,” Brode finished, giving him a brotherly shove.
“There you go love,” Mal’s mum said, handing him back his shirt. It felt warm on his skin as he slipped it on. His dad strolled in a moment later and helped him into the jacket.
“Fits okay. You’ll do great tonight, I’m sure.
” Mal’s dad paused. It was an expectant pause; Mal knew what he was expecting, but pretended not to.
Mal felt the guilt building inside him as he looked upon the fake flesh of his parents.
They had enough juice to get through the week; they didn’t need any more.
“We were thinking,” Mal’s dad started, “we would spend the next few nights gardening, and it would be good if …”
“But Dad, I’ve got this thing tonight, I’m gonna be knackered.”
“Now son, don’t be greedy.”
“Stop being so selfish,” yelled one of his various siblings.
This was the real reason Mal hated coming here.
While his parents seemed nice and all, they didn’t do it out of the kindness of their hearts.
For one, they literally didn’t have hearts, and for two, their niceness was always followed by a request. A request Mal could never refuse.
“Fine …” Mal said, caving once again.
His parents came in for a hug and Mal’s eyes went black with three white circles.
He didn’t need to search for his powers; he’d been topping his parents up for as long as he could remember.
Mal cringed at their touch and felt the energy drain from his very being.
They would have more than enough to get them to their regularly scheduled top-up, but they always seemed to want more.
Mal let go and nearly fell over, he was so exhausted.
He felt as if he’d just run a marathon—not that he knew what that felt like, but he imagined this was just as unpleasant.
“That’s my boy. Now go get ready for tonight.” Mal headed for the front door, sidestepping his siblings.
Just as he reached it, his mum said, “I feel a bit lighter than normal. You haven’t been using your powers, have you, son?”
“No, Mum,” Mal said, keeping his face as blank as possible.
“Good, good, and remember, don’t be out too late.”
This last request was not out of concern, but rather a keenness for Mal to conserve his energy.
The others could do as they wished, but everything Mal did had to be inspected under a microscope.
Lying to them was the only way he could keep any semblance of a real life, and even that was dogged by the constant drain Mal felt upon his magic.
Mal felt more akin to a prized pig than a valued son.
At least University had garnered him some reprieve from this madness, but all the lying and the secrets had left him a tad isolated.
He’d thought a lot about letting his parents return to their eternal sleep; however, his siblings made that complicated.
He checked the time on his phone as he left; Mal only had half an hour to get back to Uni before his classes started up again.
But all he really wanted to do was lie down.
He picked up his feet and made his way to the transportal station that was closest to his parents’ house.
He got in a queue that would land him close to his dorms, and waited his turn.