CHAPTER THREE
i'm not you

     Ryan stepped into his home. After about forty minutes into tutoring Siobhàn, Connell and Lorraine entered the home and began chatting about school and exams. The McCarthy boy left after having dinner and drove home in silence.

Silence was the only time where Ryan could process his thoughts. Sometimes he thought he knew what he wanted in a specific moment and then he would recall it later on and wonder if he really wanted anything at all. Then, he would think of Aoife, his mum. Ryan often wondered if she ever thought about him on the night she died.

He wondered if she was coming home to him. To put him to sleep perhaps? Or something. He wasn't sure. But the thought kept him up most nights when he couldn't sleep.

The house was big, too big for the three men who resided in it. Sean McCarthy spent most of the night wandering the halls, mumbling to his dead wife with a bottle in hand. Declan couldn't hear him at his old age but Ryan could. At first, it made him sad because he didn't just lose his mum that night, he lost his dad too.

     Aoife Walsh was a ghost and even in this form, invisible but visible, she was pulling Sean further and further away from reality.

     "Where ha'e you been, son?", Sean sat in his rocking chair, the wood creaked against the carpeted floor. His drunken slurs were easier to muster these days. Ryan was so used it he often found himself translating his father's words to his Granda.

     Because that was the other thing. Sean McCarthy hadn't really left his home since the perilous night. None of his friends at school knew of his drunk dad, not even Connell. Nobody entered the home that was a shrine. The pictures of the once happy family still remained on the walls, gathering dust at the top. Ryan was ashamed so Sean became a ghost too.

     The boy in question shut the door behind him and dropped his backpack to the floor and kicked off his shoes. "The Waldron's", the answer was simple and short. He didn't have much time for the man anymore.

Ryan entered the living room, his annoyance filled the pit of his stomach and his throat burned when he looked upon the empty beer bottles scattered across the room. Sean rocked silently in his chair, eyes half open, as he watched his son. "How was school?".

The boy scoffed and shook his head, "Fine", he picked up a bin bag and started throwing the empty bottles away.

     "Good. What ab-about exams, eh?", Sean groaned as he attempted to sit up and keep his eyes open.

     Ryan kept his back towards the man, "Fine", he muttered again. He heard his dad sigh but didn't show his acknowledgement.

     "C'mon son, I'm trying here".

     The boy finally lowered the bag of bottles onto the floor when he stood up at his full height, the contents clattered against each other at the movement, "You're drunk, dad, that's hardly trying". He then began to walk away.

     "Just...", Sean breathed deeply, "tell me about your day, really", he urged. The conversation had come out of nowhere. It wasn't often that the two would ever speak to one another. Let alone speak about each other's day.

     "Like you give a shite", Ryan spoke calmly even though he was angry. Angry at his dad for becoming this way and angry at Granda for letting it get this far.

He heard his father sigh once more but didn't say anything else, Ryan knew he didn't care. Sean withered away just as the house did, it looked big and bright on the outside but on the inside it was dark and musty. It began to pull Ryan into the darkness with it, that's why he liked spending time at the Waldron's, they were a real family. A better family than the McCarthy's ever could be.

He envied them that if nothing else.

Ryan walked up the stairs to his bedroom and closed the door. The room was bare much unlike the rest of the home. He had no posters or photos of any kind up. A bed was placed in the middle of the room by the window, when he laid down he could see the night sky above him. Some nights he spoke to his mum by looking up at the stars and pretended that the closest one was her. That she was watching over him.

A small desk was in the corner of the room and the wardrobe was at the back wall next to the door. It was a large room. Far too big for just him. From his mum's point of view he must look like an ant in a box. Ryan was full of life and joy, his smile made other people smile. He played GAA football at school and loved winning. He liked tutoring Siobhàn despite her stubbornness.

But that was all what other people could see. Your bedroom was supposed to tell people the kind of person you were, to show them what you liked. But the room was bland and cold. It didn't feel like Ryan's bedroom.

Not the Ryan that everyone at school knew, anyways.

♡₊˚ 🦢🪐༘⋆・₊ 𓆞

     A knock on the bedroom door stirred a sleeping Ryan, he didn't even remember falling asleep. A groan escaped his lips as he rubbed his eyes, sitting up. "Yeah?".

     Declan McCarthy opened the door with a small smile. The lines on his face grew deeper each day that passed. He would say it was because he was getting older but Ryan said it was because of the stress Sean put him through.

     Ryan didn't believe that any of the McCarthy men were good and honest people. There were too many similarities in his Granda that he saw in his dad. Too many familiar traits that Sean must have gotten from him. Declan also didn't care much for other people, he cared about his business and wanted Ryan to run in once he finished school. But he wanted to go to college.

     That was a conversation for another day.

     "Good day?", Declan was a man of very few words. His eyes narrowed in on the tired boy, the light from the hallway lit up a section of the bedroom, disappointment clouded his eyes. He should be studying for his exams, not sleeping.

     Ryan hummed a yes, "I had dinner at the Waldron's after tutoring. Dad was on the chair when I got in, don't think he's eaten".

     "Mhm, he's asleep. Not for long I presume", the bedroom grew quiet for a few beats. "Did you get that exam back?".

Of course. The pressure of grades weighed heavy on his shoulders. The old man constantly had his studying, Ryan couldn't catch a break and he never had a choice in the matter.

Declan told him that he needed to be great or nothing. Like his mum. Is what tried to role of his tongue but the man refrained from saying it to Ryan's face.

"A1", he cut to the chase.

The oldest McCarthy's face barely moved when he nodded in acceptance. Topic of conversation was a struggle for the members of the household. Every time they did try, Sean mentioned Aoife and then Ryan grew sad and Declan became irritated (claiming she was nothing but a whore who ruined their lives) and then they'd go their separate ways.

     Declan eventually cleared his throat, "Well... I just wanted to check in", his hand fell from the open door to the handle. A silent way to say that he was leaving.

     "Yeah, thanks. Night".

     The old man didn't say anything in return just smiled stiffly and closed the door on his way out. The light turned into darkness as it did so, leaving Ryan to sit on his bed alone as the house grew quiet.

     Ryan decided then that he would get out of the house. At some point. He would go to college far away from here and leave the McCarthy men behind. He didn't want to end up like them, he didn't want to become a ghost.

He couldn't live like this anymore. He noticed how his Granda looked at him.

     Ryan was going to make something of himself. He just wasn't sure what that was going to be yet.

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* a short chapter to see inside Ryan's home life, my poor baby honestly. Don't be a ghost reader please *