The Boy on the Other Side

by Aki_kaze

  The Boy on the Other Side

  Aki_Kaze

  Published by

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Aki_Kaze

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Storylog Ltd. Co

  www.fictionlog.co

  ISBN (E-Book) : 978-616-8251-20-1

  Cover illustration and design by Petitster

  Introduction

  I’ve watched Jumanji for so many times I’ve lost count. However, that particular day I came across this film while I was channel-surfing and it changed my life. When Shepherd’s sibling moved into the mansion, I thought, Oh, it’d be great if there’s a ghost haunting this house. With that idea, Sam was born followed by Keith and his cousins.

  The Boy on the Other Side used to be an eight-chapter story that I’ve finished writing in 2017. One day when I was scrolling down my timeline, I found an open submission from Fictionlog. I submitted this story in. I made the cut. Therefore, Sam and Keith were born again. I was a postgraduate student, living alone so far away from home, when I rewrote the story, made some changes, added more chapters. Bit by bit it became completed.

  Sam and Keith will always hold a place in my heart. They showed me compassion, they taught me empathy. They made me realize how love and support are important to one another. They reminded me that we are not alone. And I wanted you, readers, to know that you are enough, that you are not alone.

  This story wouldn’t be completed without editors, translator and staff at Fictionlog who worked tremendously hard to make my book looked awesome. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Aki_Kaze

  A Translator’s Note

  It is widely acclaimed that a work of translation is a laborious task, which is rightly so. All will find the job a labor, but some who are fortunate enough will see that it can grow into a labor of love, too. And fortunate enough am I.

  Some in this profession hold it that, in this note, it is their obligation to provide some guidance and introduction to the uncharted cultural territory, and to address or clarify any translation issues thereof. They are, or at least attempt to be, a torch. Such a role grows even more essential the more exotic and less known that culture is. But the irony here is obvious: the global reception of western culture, especially of the States, has been far more unrivalled. It seems then that my duty should by now come to an end. There is no trail to blaze, no cave to light up.

  Another literary journey you are about to embark. As a translator, I hope you sail smooth in these multitudinous seas of words; please pardon any rock you may encounter. And, as a fellow reader, I hope you discover treasure—something precious and memorable—along the course. Or perhaps it is the journey itself which is the treasure. Well, whatever it may be, you are the one to decide.

  Readers, have a nice trip.

  Surachai Boonyasiri

  A Publisher's Note

  First of all, thank you for supporting our book.

  You may not know that just from purchasing our digital copy or downloading it for free, you are already becoming a supporter of book industry in Thailand.

  Fictionlog is not only an online publisher, but is also an online novel marketplace in Thailand. We have provided a channel for local writers to sell their books and earn money from their creativities for three years now.

  With our intentions to develop online novel industry in Thailand, we’ve tried our best to connect Thai novels to readers in wider range. This is our next move to make them globally reachable.

  We truly believe that Thai novels are comparable to other international novels with their innovative storytelling, contemporary message, and unique style of writing. That’s why we support English translation and distribution. Readers from all over the world would enjoy stories from Thai writers, which offer them a new literary taste and sensation they might have never experienced before.

  If you find out that The Boy on the Other Side by Aki_Kaze is impressive enough, we would like you to share your thoughts on this book via any social network and discussion boards with hashtag #SamKeith and #Fictionlog, or review this book via Amazon and Goodreads. We greatly appreciate your kindness.

  Please be noted that many positive reviews will lead us to further translation and publication of Thai novels.

  Enjoy the book!

  Fictionlog

  Contents

  Title Page

  A Translator’s Note

  A Publisher's Note

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty One

  Chapter Forty Two

  Chapter Forty Three

  Chapter Forty Four

  Chapter Forty Five

  Epilogue

  The story, all names and characters in this novel are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places and buildings is intended or should be inferred.

  Prologue

  “H ow do you feel right now?”

  “I’m waiting… I’m still waiting.”

  “What is it that you’re waiting for?”

  The man turned away from the woman sitting across him. The clear blue eyes gazed out of the window at the sky. He was recalling those memories in the best time of his life, still abiding vividly throughout many years gone by.

  Chapter One

  New Home

  “You sure this is the way?”

  Alice Underwood of 10 asked with doubt. The road seemed to lead away and away from all civilization she had known.

  “Don’t worry. I have been there many times,” her dad replied. The man in his late 40’s looked into the rear mirror, the emerald eyes behind the glasses glancing at his daughter.

  “It’s a peaceful place. And maybe we’ll find some good neighbors there,” her mother added. She was the most excited one with this house move.

  “All I need is wifi. Anything else is a plus,” said John Underwood. He seemed to have had enough with the traveling.

  “What about you, Keith? What do you think?”


  Keith Derringer was the oldest of all. He was an outsider to this family. It was true that Diane Underwood was his father’s younger sister, and hence his aunt. But he had never known her before, not until the accident 9 months ago which took away his parents.

  “Keith?” She called him again seeing that he didn’t respond. He was saved from the question as the car came to halt in front of a house.

  Unlike Keith, everyone was so eager to get off. This was the first time the children had visited this place. When Hector opened the house door, the two siblings promptly rushed into their new residence, more than keen to explore.

  “The first one gets to choose the bedroom!” John shouted running up the stairs, closely followed by his sister. Diane told the two to keep the voice down.

  Keith was the last to enter the house. His eyes examined the interior. First noticed was the parquet flooring. At the end of the room were the stairs located. There were several rooms on his left and right sides. All the furniture lay under dust covers. He took time exploring each room as the loud noise upstairs went on.

  “Pretty spacious. Right, Keith?” Hector rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder, which caused him to flinch. The boy didn’t detest the touch, only was uncomfortable with it. Mr. Underwood could see that and instead shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes.” Keith’s voice was soft, almost like a whisper. “I’ll have to excuse myself.”

  After the boy left to the upper floor, Hector let out a sigh. It had been 8 months since his wife took the boy in because no other relatives wanted to. Still, he could not get the boy to open up to him. The boy never caused a problem, but his social seclusion constantly worried him and his wife. He didn’t even get along well with John who was close in age. He let out another sigh before going back to the car to retrieve their baggage.

  Keith heard John and Alice talking in one room. So he walked past it to search for his own.

  “Hey, weirdo. Your room is on the other side.” said John. Keith turned to look into his cousin’s room, spacious enough for two grown people.

  “Language, John.” Alice smacked her brother’s arm and leaped out of the king size bed. “Alice will take you there.”

  The girl grabbed his hand and led him to the other side of the stairs. She had the habit of addressing herself with her name.

  They walked past a room with twin door, which could be assumed that it was very large. Across it was a living room. And next to it was a bedroom, the door of which was left open by either one of the siblings. The room size could not be compared to that of John’s, but, for Keith, it was enough.

  “Mine was about the same size as yours.” She smiled at him before leaving to her own room.

  Keith put his backpack down on the bed. No bed sheet. No pillow case. No blanket. One small, white nightstand matching the room color. One closet to the wall. One desk next to it. Floating wall shelves above.

  The boy went to open the window. From there, he could view the backyard as well as some other houses of similar appearance which stood further away.

  A shout from downstairs called him to go fetch his own belongings.

  The boy spent his afternoon arranging his room. It was the second time in 6 months.

  He picked up a photo and placed it on the nightstand near the bed. It was his family photo, last taken before the accident. The memories flooded back to him. Laughter-filled car trip. Mom’s bright smile. And that was the last thing he remembered before everything went blank. He woke up again with agonizing pain all over the body. It was so unbearable that the nurse had to put him to sleep again. The next time he woke up, he met his aunt for the first time. He had stayed in the hospital for almost a month before the Underwoods took him in. He never felt like he belonged to this family even the members, except for John, warmly welcomed him. Something was off. Different. Something could not be turned back to what it used to be.

  He dispelled those thoughts and focused on his present task. It would not take long since he did not have much stuff.

  He put his clothes into the closet. Then, he put on the bed sheet and cased both the pillow and the bolster. He tried to make the room as similar to his old room as possible. This room would become his room; this place would become his home. And bedroom was his most comfortable retreat after all.

  Big, round eyes surveyed the room again before they stopped at one full-length mirror. It stood near the desk. The wooden frame was decorated in refined antique patterns, which made it look so out of place.

  The boy traced his finger along the exquisitely carved frame. Smooth, yet eerily chilling.

  “Dinner is ready, kids.”

  Diane called from downstairs. The boy took his eyes off the mirror and went out of the room, closing the door behind.

  John dashed past him, stomping his way down the stairs, whereas Alice threaded so quietly that her footsteps made no sound.

  The first meal in the new home was delightful. Diane welcomed all with spaghetti with meat sauce, vegetable salad, and puddings. The five people indulged themselves in the novel ambience.

  “This house is so big for such a low price. There’s nothing wrong with it, right?” Diane asked Hector. She did hesitate to ask him about it but couldn’t help. The house was not located in the urban area. Still, it was spacious, and the surrounding area covered quite a lot as well. The price could not be that low, not unless the house held an untold past.

  “No, of course. It was simply because the house is old,” Hector assured.

  “Yeah, Mom. If there was something, weirdo must have seen it.”

  Diane gave her son a disapproving look. Although she told him to apologize, the boy ignored her words.

  “I’m sorry, Keith,” she sighed.

  “Why did you apologize? It’s true,” John said, “have you never seen him talking to himself? I’m not surprised he needs to consult a psychiatrist.”

  “John Underwood. I don’t want to have a thug in this house. And I don’t want to hear you ever say that to Keith again. Now apologize,” Hector scolded, his face not pleased.

  Instead, John looked daggers at Keith without any sign to say sorry.

  “It’s okay,” Keith said, “may I have the pudding in my room?”

  Diane let out another sigh. “Of course.”

  The boy left the dining table, hands holding the pudding cup. Walking away, he could still hear John’s unyielding protest about Keith’s privilege of eating in the bedroom. He paid it no attention because, well, it was quite true.

  Since the accident, he was able to see what normal people couldn’t. He did not know at first what it was. He once spent his whole ride on a school bus chatting with a girl sitting beside him. At that time, he was surprised there was someone so willing to talk to him. Not until he arrived at school did he learn that the girl was no longer alive, and, in other people’s eyes, he was just talking to himself all along.

  Not only that girl on the school bus he could see. In the school building, at the playground, in the park, in the mall. Everywhere. He could see what others could not. All the stray spirits looked the same as the living. They talked like a normal person, they moved like a normal person. It was Keith himself who was drifting away and away from what was considered normal.

  He told everything to Dr. Anderson. But she thought that what he saw was only hallucinations, that he was mentally afflicted by the loss of his parents and had to conjure these images up as a coping mechanism for the sudden solitude. She prescribed him medication and told him to make friends at school, someone whom he could talk to and who understood him.

  And so, the house moving could be counted as a new beginning. He told himself he would not talk to those things, he was not supposed to see anymore. He was going to live a normal life, like other teenagers.

  That was why when he opened his room door and saw someone’s back, his breath faltered. He took slow steps toward his bed. That someone was a guy. The other did not know Keith was her
e and his gaze still remained out of the window.

  Keith tried not to look at him, focusing solely on finishing his dessert as if he saw nothing.

  Chapter Two

  The True Room Owner

  That guy had wavy blonde hair. He was about the height of Keith. So, Keith assumed that they must be close in age. Perhaps he was the ex-room owner.

  Pretending not to see him was harder than first thought. Although he fixed his gaze at the pudding, he could still sense the movement of the other in his room. His body went stiff when that guy sat down on the end of his bed. He slowly drew his legs back into a cross-legged position. The pudding became tasteless, as if his taste buds had stopped functioning. He decided to put the pudding down on the nightstand and headed to the bathroom. He silently wished that the stranger would no longer be there when he was back.