Chapter 2

Wilbur was giggling. "Mommy, I want a story!"

Mom's voice was so gentle, I hadn't heard her sound like that in forever.

"Alright, Mommy will tell a story to you, sweetie," she said.

Their laughter was so sweet, just like that singing music box Wilbur adored.

No matter how much I wanted to, Mom never let me get touch that music box.

I heard Ron speaking quietly in the living room. "Oliver got tired from playing, so I took him back to his room to crash," he said.

Mom replied, "Good. Now I don't have to see him and get pissed off."

Dad said something, and Mom's voice got louder.

She yelled, "He's bad luck. If only he was the one who died. Wilbur wouldn't have ended up like this."

I couldn't make out the rest.

I was buried under the covers, everything was pitch black.

My stomach hurt so much, worse than when Mom used to hit me.

There was a metallic taste in my throat, kind of like blood.

Mom, Dad, I felt awful. Gold tasted really bad.

If I fell asleep, would they come see me?

When morning came, my stomach didn't hurt anymore.

The metallic taste in my throat was gone too.

I felt so light, like I'd turned into one of those bubbles from Mom's fairy tales.

I drifted out from under the covers. It was so much fun. I could see my own bed.

The covers were all puffed up, and there was still a tiny me lying inside.

Mom pushed the door open, looking annoyed.

"Oliver, the sun's up and you're still in bed? You're going to be late for kindergarten," she called out.

I waved at her from the ceiling. "Mom, I'm up. I'm right here!"

But she couldn't hear me or see me at all.

Mom glared at the lump under the covers, her face full of anger.

Dad showed up, standing in the doorway with a sigh.

"Let him sleep a bit longer. He looked pretty ill yesterday," he said.

Mom whirled around and yelled at Dad, "Ill? He's just lazy, pretending to be sick so he can skip school.

"Look at Wilbur. He's already dressed himself."

Wilbur skipped over to the door and called out, "Oliver, you're such a lazy bum!"

I really wanted to tell Wilbur, "I'm not lazy. I don't even need to sleep now."

But none of them could see me or hear me.

Mom walked over to the bed angrily, and I quickly drifted down, trying to grab her hand.

But my hand went right through her arm.

She didn't bother to check under the covers, just kept complaining about me.

"His sleeping posture is so bad. Look at how he's all bundled up in the blankets," Mom muttered.

Mom picked up the empty water cup from my nightstand and let out a little huff.

"Looks like he finished his water, so he's probably fine," she said.

I drifted through the wall into the living room and saw Dad opening the door.

Ron peeked in, looking all sneaky, and asked, "Where's Oliver? Haven't heard a peep from him today."

Mom poked her head out from the kitchen. "He probably went crazy sleeping yesterday. We couldn't wake him up."

Ron looked relieved and hurried off.

He was probably worried I'd tell Mom and Dad he hurt me.

However, I couldn't tell them anymore.

The sunlight poured in, but I couldn't feel any warmth at all. My body stayed chilly.

In the living room, Mom and Dad were hanging out with Wilbur, watching cartoons together.

I rested my chin on the doorframe, watching them.

Dad looked over at my room. "Oliver hasn't eaten anything all day. I'll go get him up."

Mom jumped in before he could move. "Skipping a meal won't kill him. He knows you're a softie. He's just milking it.

"He's so sneaky for a kid his age. Just ignore him and see how long he keeps this up."

Wilbur copied Mom, waving his tiny hands. "Oliver, you're naughty."

No one came to check on me.

Mom, I wasn't naughty. I was awake now.

Look, I'd been floating here for so long.

But the "me" lying in bed didn't want to wake up anymore.

Later that afternoon, my kindergarten friend Koby Wiggins came over to see me.

Koby was holding up a Transformer, looking a little shy.

"Mrs. Huffman, is Oliver here? My mom and I got him a present," he said.

Mom's expression soured in an instant, her face turning unpleasant.

She stood firm in the doorway, blocking them from coming in, her voice stiff. "He's fine. He just doesn't want to go to kindergarten, so he's sulking at home and faking being sick."

Koby's mom seemed a little embarrassed and said softly, "Mrs. Huffman, I think Oliver is a good kid.

"Koby got bullied at kindergarten, and Oliver got hurt trying to protect him."

Mom totally lost it, her voice going shrill. "What do you know? Oliver wishes he could ruin our whole family.

"Oliver's a demon. He hurt his own brother badly.

"If he was even half as easy to handle as other kids, would I be this worn out?"

Koby burst into tears, and his mom, face dark, scooped him up and hurried off.