It wasn't exactly the fact that the roses were not dying that made the graveyard look queer. Neither was it the fact that they were not even flakey, or, had petals falling off that made Klaus wonder. They were just purple. Just purple.

They were still pretty, no doubt about that. He ran his skeletal fingers right through its delicate petals, being careful to not make them fall off. It erased his mind of the flower being just pretty. It definitely wasn't pretty to him. In fact it was as far from that as possible. It was beautiful.

He plucked one of them out of the cold, leafy ground, being careful not to harm it in any way. He held it in his right hand, looking off to his left. The pumpkin sun was just on the horizon, ready to set. He grinned once again, pleased that the moon would be back up in the beautiful night sky of Halloween Town soon.

He pivoted so that he faced the iron gates that led to the graveyard, walking his thin, skeletal legs toward them. The dead leaves under his feet crunched into tiny little pieces, being dug into the dirt. The unusually colored flower in his boney hand glistened in the setting pumpkin sun.

'There is going to be a story behind this flower,' Klaus promised to himself. That was the whole reason he had gone to get one; to make a story. Not just a story, though. A story with everything being unique, creativity flowing in and out, plus the strawberries that would be abundant. No, not a story, his story.

He walked up to the iron gate of his house, opening it up and swinging it onto the brick wall by it. He closed it, walking up the stairs that led to the front door. The flower at his side was tucked into his pocket, flowing up and down as he climbed.

He turned the doorknob in front of him, entering into the warm house. The aroma of pumpkin guts swam through the air, taking him with it. Just three weeks until Halloween. The best holiday ever.

"I'm home," He announced, kicking his shoes off onto the velvet feeling carpet that sat under the keyhold and by the bookshelf. His eyes wandered off into the kitchen, trying to find his mother somewhere in her territory. He began walking into the room, seeing his mom shuffling through the kitchen.

There Sally stood in front of the kitchen counter, carving out pumpkin guts from a rather large pumpkin. Her mahogany colored hair covered her back all the way, being tucked behind her ears. She threw the guts onto newspaper, while some of them were bagged in small burlap bags. Klaus grinned widely, knowing what she was going to do with the product in them. Pumpkin Cakes did sound rather good at the moment.

She turned around to see her son, smiling at him. She picked out more guts and placed them onto what used to be a newspaper.

"Oh Klaus," She said, "Good. You're home. Honey, can you please help me bag the guts."

"Sure," Klaus said, picking up one of the empty burlap bags off the counter. He began scooping the remains off the pumpkin and putting them inside the bag, tying them up into knots. "I'm guessing Dad's not home, is he?"

Sally sighed and nodded, while still working.

"Your father should be busy," She told him, "Three weeks before the biggest holiday of this world, Two weeks before your Halloween dance, and five days until his birthday."

Klaus nodded, while shrugging his shoulders. He kept his focus down on the orange paste in his hands.

"I see your point," He said, bagging the rest of the paste and putting it to the side. Sally, finally finished with the pumpkin, picked it up and moved it toward the table where more newspaper sat. Klaus followed her, knowing his next job was coming up.

"By the way," She began, "Have you found yourself a date for that dance yet?"

Klaus looked down at his mother, yes down, with I pink tinge about to reach his boney cheeks. A grin reached his cracking mouth as he began to speak.

"Mom," He laughed in embarrassment. She turned to him, smiling right back at him, "N-no I haven't."

She giggled and reached to pick up a knife from the table. She handed it to her son, placing it gently into his hands.

"Just wondering," She said, "You only have two more weeks to ask. I'd do it before all the good female ghouls are taken. And if you don't get one in time, you can always ask your big sister, Anna..."

"Mom," He groaned, laughing at the end. She laughed with him, stepping onto her tip-toes and kissing him on his forehead.

"I'm just pulling at you," She said, "But I am serious. You should hurry. Now, please carve that pumpkin for me will you? I'm going to risk my life by carrying pumpkin guts up the stairs."

Klaus finished up his job after about thirty minutes of carving. He brought up a bowl of his favorite fruit, strawberries, into his room; setting them down onto the end table. His hands smelled of flowers and pumpkins, making him walk immediately walk into the bathroom. He flicked on the light to the bathroom connected to his room, washing his hands under the faucet. As the warm water went through his bones, he looked down at the purple flower in his pocket. His eyes blinked unevenly as he removed his hands from the sink. While turning off the water his hands reached for the towel that was soon to dry them. He took the towel and cleaned off his hands, throwing it onto the sink. He walked out; pulling the flower out of his pocket.

Lethargically, he sat down onto his bed, gazing at his flower. His hand reached for the bowl of strawberries; grabbing one out from it. He popped it into his mouth, chewing on it softly. The flower, he saw, was shining off of the newly risen moon outside, flaunting off its beauty. A small smile cracked upon his skull, reflecting his beauty.

He opened up the drawer that contained almost everything important to him. His hand pulled out a medium sized ebony box with roses engraved on the edges. Engraved vines surrounded them, chaining them together. He opened the box, raising the top. It went back being held together to the rest of the box with screws and two scarlet red ribbons.

The wooden box held so much. He pulled out what appeared to be old photos from when he was younger, younger being from two weeks old to ten. Shuffling through the pictures, he put them down onto his bed, after trying to calm down from looking at a picture with his dad being tackled by him when he was two.

Other pictures were of his father, mother, his older sister, Anna with her fiancee', John. He put those down as well and put the flower into the box. The pictures went in with them, as he placed them gently at its side. After closing the box, Klaus put it back into the drawer, closing it immediately afterwards. He looked out at the window the looked out at the town, the town that would soon be his.

He removed his hoodie from his body, throwing it carelessly onto the bed he sat on. Swiftly, he picked up the bowl of strawberry goodness and brought it with him to the window seat. He opened it, letting in the smell of Halloween pour in.

So many memories could be seen through out the town in his eyes. He grew up here, he knew here, he loved here. The fountain in the middle of the town of Halloween was where he had thrown up when he was four after eating too many Pumpkin Pasties, bringing back the smell of pumpkins and oats. Down by the town hall was where he opened up his ninth birthday present, the wooden box. Anything and Everything he wanted was here. Here in this town.

His eye sockets trailed everywhere outside. From the corner of his sockets, he saw a trace of long black hair, flowing in the darkness of the early night. Klaus's invisible eyebrows rose up, trying to look straight at the face of this black haired woman that he saw; strawberry juice running down his chin.

The young woman walked around, hands close to her chest. Only reason; a book was being cradled by them. She was blue, but not dark blue. She was a lighter blue, a baby blue. She wore what appeared to be a flowing white blouse, with black skinny jeans, and a small brown jacket.

She walked around the middle of the town, looking around and behind her for traces of people. She stumbled back on her ankles a couple of seconds as Klaus watched her with sheer interest. Gingerly, she sat down on the fountain's rim. She opened up the book after tucking her hair behind her ears.

A mumbling came from her mouth, and it became louder. Klaus raised his head off the window's frame, listening to her intently. She wasn't speaking. She wasn't mumbling.

She was singing.

"Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going through, Strawberry Fields," She sang, "Nothing is real. And Nothing to get hung about. Strawberry Fields Forever."

Her voice enchanted him instantly. The bowl full of strawberries almost fell out of his hands. His mouth slowly cracked into a wide grin, as his boney fingers gripped the frame of the window. He still watched her, listening as her songbird voice.

"Living is easy with eyes closed. Misunderstanding all you see. It's getting hard to be someone, but it all works out. It doesn't matter much to me."

Klaus couldn't control his mouth anymore. His voice was inspired by his, lifting his spirit into the sky. He looked down at her, singing with her.

"Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going through Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real. And nothing to get hung about. Strawberry Fields Forever."

She looked up at him, gasping loudly. Her eyes met his, with Klaus finally getting a good view of her face. It was shaped like an Angel's, staring at him with a surprised expression. She was a corpse. A beautiful one none the less.

He looked back at her, with the same expression. He felt the need to smile at her, tell her it was okay.

Slowly, she stood up, closing the book. He could hear her gasp, while she backed away slowly. She tripped as she tried to turn around and run away.

His hand reached out to her, as she ran into the graveyard. His voice wanted to say, "Wait," but he had done enough. She would've still been there, singing if it wasn't for him. His eyes went back, making him look sad. They turned back to their original circle shape. He looked back to where she used to sit and then looked to where she ran off too, wondering where she could've ran to.

He looked down at his bowl of strawberries, fiddling with one and then dropping it back in. His eyes averted away from them and then to his walls, seeing all of his artwork portrayed. His stitched lip moved up into a small smirk, but it quickly evaporated into the cinnamon smelling air. He looked back to the sky, seeing the beautiful moon there. His voice, inspired by both the moon and the girl, began singing again.

"Is there anybody gone to listen to my story," He sang, leaning his skull against the window's frame, "All about the girl who came to stay."

He looked away from the moon for a while and back into the room, staring at his work, and then going back out the window.

"She's the kind of girl you want so much, it makes you sorry," He continued to sing, "Still you don't regret a single day. A girl."

"Girl."