(I know the title sounds stupid to me too but I couldn't think of anything better)
A/N: A Halloween story in July, yep that is so me! In any event feel free to blame DeathDaisy whose decision to work some of her forgotten ideas compelled me to do the same ;-)
"You... don't want...me?"
I stammered one cold afternoon a few days after my ill-fated birthday party.
"No"
his tone was final. Worst of all? It was also honest. Suddenly the set around us changed, gone were the sparse woods of my back yard and I was in a field of sunflowers, hidden in their chest high height. I could faintly hear Edward's voice as I ran. I didn't know if I was running to him or away from him but my lungs were burning. I had to stop...
When I looked behind me a large sickle was hanging mid air and swooshed as it came down. I fell down trying to avoid it.
I failed and it sliced through my wrist, at the same place my skin bore James' bite mark. Finding strength I didn't know I have, I scrambled on my legs and tried to run faster until I could see something in the distance.
A house...
A cold hand fell down on my arm and turned me around. The last thing I ever saw was the blade of sickle coming to claim my head
"ARRHAHHA"
I woke up from my own scream. The room was dark, bathed in shadows that did nothing to calm me down. Breathing fast I scrambled to turn the paper lantern next to my bed on. A shadow was on the rocking chair next to the window.
He was back!
"E- Ed- Edward?"
I whispered. The figure turned to look at me. A wave of despair lashed through me. It wasn't Edward...
"Don't look so happy to see me Izzie. I might get the wrong idea"
The figure said. Izzie? Only one person called me that...
"Uncle Pat?"
I asked as the shadows dissipated and I was greeted with my uncle's view unobstructed. A short blond mop of hair, startlingly grey-blue eyes and big wide smile had me crawling over my messy bed covers to plant myself in his lap and immediately his arms closed around me.
"No, the ghost of Halloween past"
He mocked drawing a laugh from me even if I shivered at the word 'ghost'. From my closed window I could see the pumpkins lining the lawns of the neighbors. Their candles were still burning despite the late hour. Uncle Pat looked at my decidedly non festive room
"You know, if Chad knew you were so out of the spirit he'd force me to lug our leftover pumpkins here"
He said, I chuckled at the image of the tall, dark and brooding man ordering my uncle around carrying lit pumpkins
"Where is the ball and chain?"
Chad was my uncle's husband. Patrick had lived the closeted life until he could see Narnia and his parents, my grandparents, died. Then he met Chad who forcibly pulled him out by the brain that rarely made decisions till then, and they've been together ever since, despite uncle Pat's inability to keep his dick out of other people.
"Wrecking havoc at home"
Silence descended then. I would ask how, considering both Brad and uncle Pat died two years back on Halloween Day, but for once I didn't want to think. Instead I closed my eyes and kept mum. For all his exuberance and Renée-like general happiness, uncle Patrick could be lapse into peaceful silence easily, like he flipped a switch. But it was never awkward.
"Look what I got you"
He presented a red blob on a stick. This time I had to laugh out loud enough to cover Charlie's reassuring snoring
"You brought me a candy apple?"
I asked amused. I felt Patrick's chest rumble as he laughed
"Dead or not kiddo, I'll still bring you your apple"
I smiled and closed my eyes to enjoy my treat. I was practically addicted on those when I was a kid. Savoring the divine taste, I made a mental note to make a batch the next day.
"Tell Chad thanks"
Rumbling laughter shook the chest under my ear. Patrick was as good in the kitchen as mom is. Which means that neither can be trusted to watch the kettle!
"You don't seem too upset to see dead person"
He mused a few minutes later as I was finishing my treat. I shrugged
"It's not like everyone else who breaks into my bedroom is alive uncle Pat"
The next morning I woke up to a whiff of a men's cologne and the sight of the stick of a candied apple resting on my bedside table. With a smile I grabbed my phone to send a text
'Hey dad, can I use some of the money in the safe to get some apples to candy?'
The EndA/N2: Should I really mention I own nothing? Really? Really?