Ghost Graffiti - Chapter One - The Face of Mutiny

Cory Ibble, a tall, lanky, dark haired, sixteen year old boy, walked down the busy sidewalk of the downtown area. His blue eyes flickered from face to face as the people passed, looking for a certain face. Sure, all the people who passed were familiar and friendly and some even waved, but Cory didn't much acknowledge them. He was on a mission.
She passed by here every day and today was the day he would talk to her. He had to.
"Hey Cory," someone said grabbing his arm as they passed by. He turned around, irritated.
"Oh hey Gabe," he replied. Gabe was one of his soccer friends, but he had no time. There were things to do. "I can't talk much right now, I've got things to do."
"Oh, well I'll come with," Gabe smiled.
Cory sighed. Today was obviously not the day. "Alright. I need to go get some stuff to remove the wallpaper in our basement. My dad wants to start renovating, you know, make the house look all nice for all of the people who party with him that are so important."
"Yeah," Gabe said, "I get what you mean."
Gabe's father worked with Cory's. So they were often stuck together when either of their parents had cocktail parties.
"But why the basement?" Gabe asked.
"It's looking pretty beat up right now. Not that anybody goes down there as of this moment, but I guess that's where he'll be sending me during parties. I bug him too much when I come downstairs from my bedroom to go outside. From the basement I can just walk up the stairs and out the back door," Cory explained.
"Ah. Good reason?"
Cory chuckled, "I suppose."
They continued on talking all the way to the grocery story, about school, girls and soccer. Cory picked up the few things he needed and headed home, waving goodbye to Gabe as he turned down the street before Cory's.
"Dad, I'm home," Cory yelled as he opened the front door.
"I'm in the kitchen son," his father yelled back. "Did you get everything I asked for?"
"Yeah," he said walking into the kitchen, "are we gonna mix it up right now?"
"Yup," his father said. "Then we'll head straight downstairs and get started alright."
His father hesitated.
"What?" Cory asked.
"Well, I was hoping you could do it, so I could get started on the bathroom."
"Oh, yeah, that's fine. Just show me how," he said.
When the watery paste was finished Cory followed his father downstairs and they got started on pulling down the old, water stained brown wallpaper. It was pretty simple. Just put the lacquer on the wallpaper, let it sit for a minute or so and then use a knife to cut it off. It fell off like flakes.
"Well kid," his dad said ruffling his hair, "I'll let you get to it. I'll be in the bathroom, painting, if you need any help."
"Alright."
Cory turned the radio up as his dad walked up the stairs and got to work. It was repetitive as he painted on the paste and pulled down the wallpaper. Behind it was just wood. Near the corner in the back of the room, Cory pulled back the wall paper and saw the edge of what seemed to be some sort of painting. Curious, he hurriedly worked to get the wallpaper off. Peeling off the last bit of wallpaper on that wall, Cory choked on a scream.