The corridor stretched out in front of him, the door to his room seeming to not get any closer than when he had started. The boy behind him kept calling his name, telling him to slow down. But he couldn't. What he had just revealed was the only part of home he had left; the only part he wanted to keep. He was, to say the least, reluctant to share it. But to the other blond the secret hidden in his room seemed to spill from his lips like water.
His arm struck out, yanking the doorknob. He slammed the door shut and turned the key; a temporary barricade from the still fairly unfamiliar world of alien faces. A few of them were like family, yes. But other than those few, he had no one. No one to call his friend. There was a Romanian boy in his class who was all right and shared his passion for mystical beings, but he was the only person who Lukas connected with outside the house. Not that he minded. As long as his brother had friends, he didn't care about himself.
Slowing his breath, he let his heartbeat even out. He didn't even remember running, just that he had to escape. He approached his wardrobe, letting his hand wander across the smooth, cold wood. Twisting his wrist, he opened the door. He took care to move the embroidered cloths out of the way, breaching the veil between reality and his mind. The polished oak of the instrument gleamed in the rays of light that came in through the open window. Carefully, he picked it up, one hand on the neck and one on the lower bout. The wood felt cool under his long fingers. He stroked the beautiful engravings decorating the sides of the elegant instrument, stopping only when he heard a loud thud on the door.
The clamor outside was off-putting to say the least, however this was his haven, an asylum from all worried. He let his body sink into the bed's mattress, the springs letting out a slight groan. But from the moment the bow met the strings, the whole world silenced. No sound other than that of the violin, singing its song sweetly for all to hear.
The music was like a dream, but all dreams end. Planting a soft kiss on the wood, he returned it to its sanctuary, ready to be played again. He laid down on his bed, closing his eyes. While most people would expect he wouldn't understand what was happening, he really needed to be given the benefit of the doubt. He didn't understand everything about his mother's condition. However, he knew more than he was given credit for. He knew she was delusional; he had noticed things all those years ago. Symptoms that had occurred only after a certain event. He had always spent more time with their mother than Emil had. He had loved her so much. Then, it happened.
His father was a fisherman. He used to go out in his fishing boat, and often came back with fresh fish that his mum would prepare differently every time. It was the taste of his childhood. But one day, he didn't come home. The boat had been caught in a massive storm. The ship sank, there were no survivors. He hadn't known what had happened until two years ago, when Érik told him. He was slowly beginning to understand everything, piecing things together. With only two children in the home, there was no one to tell that anything was wrong. She began to lose herself, bit by bit. She still laid the table out for his father every night. She stopped smiling, her voice becoming monotonous. She barely spoke at all, and, though he hadn't noticed at the time, couldn't use information very well. The ordered, joyful woman she had been begun to slowly become someone who she had never been.
He rolled onto his side. He just hoped it would all be over and out of his mind soon.
Just a little chapter about Lukas' feelings and back story. This story will get back to plot next chapter.