Lucas (Five minutes freewrite)

On the rare occasions the Goldsmiths had guests, no one would ever mention Lucas. Except for his long-suffering mother, that is, Helen, who never failed to inform them that the boy, who was almost a man by now, was having one of his headaches. It fell on one of the guests to come to the rescue with a murmured ‘some other time, then’, as if it were understood that it was definitely a temporary ailment that was keeping Lucas away and not a permanent debilitating condition. All the ladies present would nod encouragingly, while the gentleman sat stone-faced - the sad business with the boy was not something they would dwell upon and embarrass their gracious hosts. Yet, when they had the chance, none of the guests could resist casting a surreptitious glance towards the tower on the left-wing of the stately home, where, rumor had it, Lucas had been locked for years.
The boy had been born with beautiful blue eyes, common in most babies, and it took quite a while until his mother realized the child was not unnaturally sullen or apathetic or easily bored - he just did not see or not much, as the doctors later determined. Sometimes he’d turn and stare at them, but he was just following the sounds and if he sometimes giggled, as babies do, it was the smell of his mother that made him happy - if Lucas could be said to have ever been happy. Hard as it was to accept their firstborn’s blindness, the Goldsmith were determined to make the boy’s life as comfortable as possible. Life went on, a baby girl was born, which the boy accepted readily, although he never asked to hold her. He just sat there watching the shape of his mother nurse the shape of his baby sister, Lucille.
Then it started. Lucas was six the first time he threw a fit, as the parents described the episode for lack of a better word. Or a more delicate one. It was late in the afternoon, Lucille was fiddling with her crayons when Lucas started to scream in terror. Shrill cries with barely a pause between them, the boy cowering into the corner of the room, trying to escape some monster only he could see. When his mother put her arms around him, he scratched and kicked her, his anguish all the more intense.
After an episode, when he’d screamed himself hoarse and his cheeks were streaked with tears, Lucas told them of the horrors he had seen, the dancing skeletons beckoning him with their pointy meatless fingers and all that kept them at bay were his screams. The Goldsmiths tried in vain to explain the monsters were not real, gently reminding him of his unseeing eyes. The doctor said it was not uncommon for a child to imagine monsters, especially a boy with such a frustrating condition. He’ll grow out of it, he assured them, but the child’s hallucinations became more frequent and after a while he wouldn’t allow anyone to go near him. He’d fight off his mother’s arms as if they burned his skin and he’d call her names no one suspected the boy had ever heard.

That’s when they moved him to the tower, to keep him away from the impressionable little girl, even though Lucas had never hurt her or said anything vile to her. It was with an uneasy heart that the Goldsmiths allowed the girl to go up to her brother’s room and read him stories and when the boy couldn’t hold it within anymore, he’d send her away in a hurry and only started screaming when the door was safely locked behind her. The visions became more complex and no one knew how the boy came up with terrible images of children maimed and burned alive, rotting corpses coming after him, whole cities entirely populated with skeletal beings. He could barely see lights and blurry shapes, yet he could describe quite accurate the bony creatures that were after him. But since he was not violent and never hurt anyone, they let him stay in the tower, instead of sending him away, as they could have - something Mrs. Goldsmith had once mentioned to a group of close friends.
Now that Lucille was a teenager, they decided to entertain more, as it was their secret hope to have her married and out of the house as soon as possible. Especially as they could sense the bond between their two children was becoming stronger. Lucille would smuggle forbidden books to her brother’s room, books that spoke of other worlds, books of fantasy and gore, exactly what the tormented boy did not need, in their opinion. Yet, when she read to him, Lucas could be calm for hours, as if the creatures in the books could drive his own monsters away. And when she was done reading, they would talk for hours, and that really worried the Goldsmiths. Much as they loved their son, they did not want him to poison her mind with his horrid tales of death and decay.
The guests were all seated at the round garden table enjoying their drinks, when Lucille finally showed up, a vision in pink, just as beautiful as her mother, the guests agreed. The girl kept fidgeting with the ribbons on her dress, dodging both compliments and questions, as if her head hurt from all the talking. She barely answered and would not sit by her mother. The guests watched her uneasily, if that’s how she chose to present herself, small chances she would find a suitor anytime soon.
When she couldn’t take it anymore, Lucille started to scream. First a low hesitating cry, as if she was just finding her voice. Then the screams grew stronger and she showered the skeletons with abuse, kicking a table and sending the glasses flying. The Goldsmiths were desperately trying to get the guests back inside, away from the screaming girl, when they heard Lucas laughing. A deranged laughter that boomed all over the garden and the girl soon started to laugh too. ‘Dust to dust, that’s all there is. That’s what you are, dust, all of you’

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge, today's prompt was: laughter! Check out her blog and join our freewrite community.

Thanks for reading!

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