Mattie POV
I couldn't sit still. I was pacing around my room; all the while an anxious feeling coated my stomach. My father still hasn't returned from his trip yet, and
I was worried. I hear a knock at the door and my heart flies to my throat. I run through the marble kitchen and fine-finished living room to the front door, ripping open the heavy maple wood door and my heart drops again. Instead of my father standing at the door, his secretary waited impatiently with a pizza box atop her outstretched, manicured hand.
"Your father has business to finish and won't be back for a few more days, so he sent some food over." I could tell she felt bad about dad ditching again, but there wasn't anything she could do about it.
"Thanks for the food Bella." we both knew my dad didn't send the food. We both knew it would be a miracle if he even remembered he had a son at all. She smiled sadly and handed me the box before placing a light kiss on my cheek and rushing back to work.
Ever since my mother was killed in an accident three years ago, I've been living with my father in a big expensive house and anything I could ask for. Before I was living with my mother and my twin brother in France. My mother had long wavy blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. Her laugh was completely infectious to everyone around her and she would take Alfred and me on trips just for the hell of it.
One day we were talking a walk through the park near our little apartment when a guy came swerving onto the path in a car, even though the road was about
30 yards away. She pushed us out of the way before being hit. They declared her dead on impact. We tumbled down the hill to the little river that ran along side the trail. I was lucky enough to have my coat catch on a branch and stop my decent. Alfred just kept fumbling down the rocks and braches before hitting the water. He was pronounced dead on arrival.
My father arrived from England three days after the incident, just in time for me to be released from the hospital. The funerals were a small affair. Not many people came to pay their respects because my family was very flighty, always town jumping.
Three hours after the caskets were lowered into he ground I was on a plane to my father's home in England. My things were planned to be packed up and mailed over by some of dad's workers, but I really didn't care. I didn't really care about a lot of things now a days. My father, Arthur Kirkland would only stop home for a couple hours every few months before leaving his last son to mourn the loss of his mother, Francine Bonnafoy and brother, Alfred F. Jones
After eating a few slices of the pizza I put the rest of the pie into the fridge for breakfast and went to take a shower. No matter how much time passes, the pain never dulls.
I turned the hot water up all the way and strip down. When I saw the steam rise
I turned in the shower and stepped in. A gasp escaped my lips as the boiling water hit my unprotected back, but it quickly turned to a. Sigh if pleasure as the heat melted my worries, if only for a little while.
I looked down at my arms and felt a pang of disgust as I beheld the year old scars littering my wrists. The first few months had been terrible, and dad always having an excuse to leave made it worse. I guess I started cutting after my first day at my new school. Everyone was nice, but everything reminded me of them, and I just couldn't handle it.
It went on for about four or five months before some kids at school noticed the bandages when my sleeve pulled up. My father was called in from a business meeting, making it all that much worse. Instead of yelling at ne like he did his assistants, I found myself wrapped up in a warm hug. Apparently my cutting stunt had grabbed the attention of my always busy father, and I finally realized why I started to cut.
So I would be discovered.
Noticed.
It lasted all of three days before he had to leave again. Three days of pretending I had a real family. Three days was the longest he's spent here since that first year. It's been three since then.
Soon the hot water began to run out and I wistfully sighed. Lately I've taken to the habit of talking out loud to myself, but today it got out if hand, because I got a response.
"What should I do? What can a kid who has everything they could want do to make it seem...better?" I was pondering my usual gripe about how my oh so perfect life was lacking some thing very important when a laugh echoed through the large metallic bathroom.
"Kesesesese well...you could run away, do drugs, kill yourself, or actually do something to change your position!" I yelled and threw my sponge into the air.
Was someone in the bathroom with him?
"Hello? Why are you in my bathroom?" for some reason I was completely calm about someone being here with me, except for the whole sponge throwing extravaganza.
"Yupp! Kesese have problem?" I contemplated for a moment and realized that I actually didn't have a problem.
"Nope. You're good. Can I ask how a ghost came to haunt my bathroom?" i heard a snort come from above the sink.
"Sure. I'm a ghost! Aren't you afraid?" I didn't need a second thought
"Not in the slightest. I'm actually glad to have someone, or something, to talk to now." the ghost thought this was the funniest thing in the world and promptly serenaded me with his peculiar laugh for several moments before I turned of the water and grabbed my towel.
"I'm not to sure how to go about this, but could you...turn around? In getting out of the shower now."
"Actually I need to haunt somewhere else for a bit but I'll pop back in. Give me twenty minutes." suddenly the steamy room seemed much warmer and I decided it was safe to get dressed. Polar bear boxers and a red maple t shirt was my normal bed wear, so that's what I slipped into, brushing my damp, shoulder length curls out and tying them back with one of maman's hair ribbons that i had managed to save.
Twenty, twenty-five, thirty minutes passed and there was no sign of another living, or in this case, non living thing in the large, empty house. I sighed again. I seem to sigh more than talk lately. I lie back on my bed and stare at the hockey posters on my ceiling. I don't know how long I lay there, but the next thing I knew, Kuma landed on my face!
I jumped up and spun around, shocked to see my Canadian animal collection dancing around my room! My moose was waltzing with the giant polar bear; the beavers were doing a jig while the bobcat and lynx tangoed through a Congo line of porcupines! I blinked a few times, but when I realized that it wasn't stopping, I simply joined in. Who knew how much fun it was to waltz with a moose or tango with a lynx?
I laughed and spun around and around in circles. Another somewhat familiar laugh joined in when it saw what fun I was having.
"Kesesese like my trick!?"
"This is amazing! How did you do it?" He was still laughing, but found the time to answer.
"Magic, Birdie! Ghost magic!" he chortled some more, making more things rise and move around my room, like in that scene from that movie, Matilda. Soon, the lights began to flicker on and off, changing color each time. Strange music began to pour from the walls, but it was in another language, so I couldn't understand it.
Disco pogo…disco pogo.. that's all I could distinguish.
"Hey! Mr. Ghost? Why are you doing this?" suddenly everything dropped. The lights turned on normal and the music stopped.
"Mr. Ghost? Nein. I'm far to awesome for such a un-awesome name. It's Gilbert. Better remember it Birdie!"
"And I'm Mathew. Not Birdie." Though I do like the nickname.
"Don't care."
"You don't care?"
"Not really."
"well then…"
"Look Birdie, it's getting late. Same time, same place. Promise?" just the idea of another party made my heart soar, so I readily agreed.
Every single day for three weeks, Gil and I had amazing ghost parties, with lights, music and dancing. And for the past few days, he even began following me around the house.
"Hey Birdie, whacha doing?"
"Homework."
…
"Hey Birdie, wanna play?"
"Play what?"
…
"Hey Birdie, do you think I could eat people food?"
"I don't know. Want to test it?"
Before we knew it, we had developed a deep relationship. He had described what he had looked like in life, and it made him all that more interesting. White hair, white skin and blood red eyes, though I could never picture them blood red. Ruby red, maybe. But never blood.
It was July 1st, the day of my 17th birthday, and Gil was there to spend it with me the whole time, because Dad wasn't going to be home for another two weeks, like usual. We were going all out. The living room had been transformed into an undercover club. Lights reflected off the mirror wall and Gil's "ghost magic" made the silver wear and other household items form people to dance around. Around eight, a cake floated in from the kitchen and I felt my face flush. Seventeen candles lined up in a circle around the cake, lighting it up to show that it was a pale green color, my favorite.
Gil somehow managed to make everyone there sing me happy birthday, and when I blew out the candles, a cheer went through the "crowd".
"So Birdie? How's your birthday?" his voice drifted to my ears as if on a breeze, like it normally did.
"This. Was. The. Best. Birthday. Ever!" I squealed and buried my face into the new polar bear pillow pet that had found its way onto my bed this morning, with a suspicious yellow bide tag.
"Was it everything you ever wanted?"
"Almost."
"Almost?!"
"Ya...there's still one thing I want."
"Anything Birdie! Just name it!"
"I want to see you."
Silence
"Gil?"
The silence seemed to dominate the sound of the music still seeping through the walls.
"I-if that's what you want….look in the mirror." I turned my head and my breath caught. Standing not three feet away from me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen in my life, and I had seen all of Jonny Depp's movies. His hair was bleach white and tousled as if he just woke up from a restless sleep. His face was a white as his hair, and perfect. Not a single blemish decorated his broad chin and high cheek bones. But his eyes, Mon dieu his eyes! They were more beautiful then I had imagined. It wasn't just one color. It was a million. They weren't just red. There was gold and orange and yellow, all swirling in those two, perfect orbs.
"G-gil…" all I could do was breathe his name. He wasn't a ghost. He was an angel. He looked me in the eyes for a brief second, and in that second, I could see the unfathomable pain. Pain no human should ever have to know. And in a flash, he was gone.
The music stopped, the lights went back to normal, and dancers went back to their respective cubbies, and I was left alone with the vision of my angel burned into my mind.
He hasn't come back for a month now. Nothing gave away his position, and I felt my heart broke with every evening that passed without his presence near me. Without his laugh filling the room, my laugh died. Without his childish antics, my fire cooled. Nothing was the same anymore.
Gilbert's POV
I shouldn't have let him see me. I shouldn't have even gotten close to a human. A monster like me should never corrupt something so pure, so innocent. I looked up from the poor animal caught in my claws. It struggled pitifully as I drained the last of it's lifeblood before casting it aside for scavengers to pick at it. I haven't been able to feast on a human since I saw that blonde boy in the shower that first day. Haven't been able to feed when I needed since I heard his laugh for the first time. Haven't seen able to look my little brother in the eyes since I fell in love.
I stayed away for as long as I could, but every day burned more and more. My family was getting suspicious. Well, the brother and Grandfather. My Muti and Vati were staked when I was young. As a born vampire, I could grow and learn, but stopped when I finished puberty. Sometimes I wished I could go back to simpler times.
"Bruder, are you feeling ok?" Ludwig's voice broke me out of my haze. I blinked and looked around. When had I gotten home? What time was it? The clock above the doorway said 7 pm. I should be with my Birdie now.
"Look. Gilbert," it was his Grandfather, "I understand you haven't been feeling well. All you need to do is find a mate. Then you'll be back to normal. Ludwig has already found a nice Italian mate. Please Gilbert!" I shook my head. There no one I wanted. No one other than a little Canadian.
One last time, I decided. I stood up quickly, startling my Grandfather and brother before storming out into the night. I just needed to see him one last time. Then I can move on. Just one more time.
Just one more time.
One more time
Just….one…more..
I kept telling myself that, but as I snuck through his window, I knew I was to late for my 'one last time.'
Mattie's POV, Twenty Minutes Previous
I was done.
After my birthday, I heard nothing from Gilbert. My father forgot my birthday completely, and the only person I though cared for me, Bella, was killed in a car crash. Those damn cars! I looked down at the white bottle in my hand. Cutting seemed like such a messy way to go, and I didn't want to be a burden to the house keepers. I dumped about twenty-five sleeping pills onto my hand and swallowed them down, little my little. When that handful was done, I reached for another. No mistakes. No chances. My mind was already starting to get fuzzy. I was glad I had written my letter before hand.
As I lie back on my bed, I gathered my Pillow Pet into my arms and prayed that when I made it to heaven, that Gilbert would be there to great me. Just as I was about to close my eyes for the last time, I heard the window slide open. A cry, so filled with pain and anguish, barley reached my ears, but the cold hand that grasped mine woke me up from my haze. Just a little bit.
"G-gil..?" my voice was so quiet, I wasn't sure if he would hear me, but his brilliant eyes came into to view at my words. Those wonderful eyes, those breathtaking eyes that I never thought I would see again, that were overflowing with tears.
That's not right. He should be happy. We can be together now.
"Gil...did you come to great me already? I thought there would be more…white." I gave a dry chuckle. His eyes widened. If I had been sane, I would have seen the gears turning in his head and the connection being made.
"NNOOOO BIRDIE! PLEASE STAY WITH ME! ON MEIN GOTT! HOW MANY PILLS DID YOU TAKE?!" his shouting was giving me a headache.
"...the whole thing..." His face drained of what little color he had.
"I'M NOT A GHOST MATTIE! I'M A MONSTER! IF YOU LEAVE I'LL NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN!" I head his words, but I couldn't understand what they meant. I was so sleepy.
So sleepy.
Gilbert's POV
He was fading fast. What could I do!? WHAT DO I DO!? WHATDOIDOWHATDOIDOWHATDOIDOW HATDOI-
It's all so simple.
Kill two birds with one stone, right?
But why is it so hard?
I realized I had no time for any inner struggles, so I plunged my fangs into the fragile, scarred wrist of the man I loved more than anything in my 500 years, and I drank.
I drank and drank until I tasted no more drug in his system.. But his breath was too weak. He lost too much blood. I hated myself, loathed myself even, but I injected him with my venom anyway. Could see it take effect immediately.
The Change happened so fast, I was able to get him out of there before the sun rose. We left his suicide note on his dresser before leaving. On a whim, I grabbed the stuffed bear he seemed so attached to. I looked into his purple eyes and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips, relishing the feel of his fangs on mine, before taking him home to meet his new family.
Ok, so not much to say. This was supposed to be three parts, but I couldn't find a good place to split it up. I might add a squeal chapter if you guys want it, but it's able to stand on it's own from here on out.