Konnichiwa, readers! Anyway, this is just a little dramatic thing I wrote when I was like half-asleep. I'm surprised it came out so well. This is all written in the POV of Prince Vince. I Hope you enjoy it!

PS: Don't think this means I won't be updating Hiding anytime soon. Sumimasen about the wait; I'l get to it ASAP!

Here I am, once again distraught to seemingly no end. Not that anyone seems to care. They all think, just because I am a figurehead, that my outward expressions do not show what I feel inside. They don't know what my true desires are, my thoughts, my feelings, my regrets…

They don't know me.

Nobody knows me.

I once had a friend. That's right, a friend. She followed a certain code: "This just in, we're all just people." If we're all people, then we all have feelings. We all can love. We all can make mistakes. We all can hurt. We all can cry. We all…

We all can die.

This brings me back to my depression.

I was suggested by someone just recently to write down my thoughts and feelings, and see if that makes me feel better. Lydia, if you're reading this, while I appreciate your concern I doubt this will do much for my situation. Words cannot heal a broken heart. They cannot turn back the hands of time. They cannot revive the dead.

But I will humor you, for I still feel for you, even if it's not true love as I once believed.

So here's my life story, not that many people will feel obligated to read it. I'm not that interesting…

Anyway, introductions. My real name is Vincent Malloy. As you can imagine, I am still, even after ten years of purgatory, getting over my obsession with the actor Vincent Price. If you don't know who he is (tell me, which rock are you currently residing under?) he was an actor. The star in countless horror movies and films. House of Wax, The Masque of the Red Death, Moss Rose… All of them and more. I was obsessed. Infatuated. I grew worse and worse each day, and at times I even believed I was him… curse my name.

But enough about him for now. My family is next. My parents' names were Robert and Sophia. I had a baby sister by the name of Vivian, and my aunt Maggie visited once every two months or so—sometimes I still wonder how her body would look with a wax coating. I don't even know if it's a proven fact that corpses don't decay when coated—FOCUS, VINCE. Okay, moving on.

I had three pets, all of whom have followed me after I left the realm of the living. My dog, Abercrombie, is one of them. While I was unsuccessful in my attempts to turn him into a zombie (I was an odd child), he is still loyal to me and continues to serve me well in times of need, along with my cats Ebony and Ivory.

The first gift I'd ever received was a black teddy bear (yes, it was black. It seems I wasn't the only one in my family who had issues) named Eddie. As I grew, along with my obsession with horror and death, I felt obligated to mutilate him with safety pins and cut off his left ear. After I died my corpse was buried with him, and as a result his spectral form now lies dormant on my pillow, waiting for me to pick him up and hold him as I cry myself into various nightmares and haunting memories of my former life.

… Did I just admit that? Look, I'm a dead teenager with chronic depression and other mental problems. I need all the comfort I can get. Moving on.

I believe I was about five when I found my first girlfriend. I don't remember her name or what she looked like, but I remember she was beautiful in some form. I remember loving her passionately… madly, one might say. I don't remember laughing with her, kissing her, or even holding her hand… I don't remember giving her a ring, promising my life to her…

I don't remember marrying her.

But somehow, I know I did.

I remember being horrified when I learned of her death… she had been buried alive by those who seek vengeance on me.

Desperate to see her again, I dug out her grave. Unfortunately, before I could reach her body I was caught and sent to a high tower where I was to spend sixty years (or rather, sixty minutes) in isolation.

When my captor (my mother, I assume) arrived to inform me I was free to go, I found that I was possessed by the house and couldn't leave it. She flew into a rage at this, telling me that my marriage to… whoever I was married to was a lie, as well as everything I'd supposedly created in my mind.

After she left I began to hallucinate. I saw my wife, Abercrombie, Eddie, skeleton hands reaching from the wall to grab and strangle me, my body being dipped into hot wax, the spirits of the dead rising from the grave and torturing me…

I suffered my first near-death experience on that day.

After my three weeks in the hospital, my parents talked it over decided I needed help. They did the worst possible thing even I could imagine happening.

They tried to make me go to rehab.

I couldn't take it anymore. I packed my most essential belongings and ran away to begin a new life.

I met my first set of friends at a Burger King just outside my hometown; a group of children who had run away as I had or otherwise had nowhere to go. Ryan Greenwood (house fire) Jennica Hive (divorce) William "Cyborg" Wonka (abusive father) and Yvonne Ragine (sibling rivalry). Jennica's the one who taught me the aforementioned code.

For years I lived on the run with them. I formed a bond with them almost instantaneously. I sympathized with Ryan's outlook on life ("We're all gonna die eventually, so we'd best enjoy life while we still can"). I learned that when Jennica was born, her mother wanted to name her Jennifer but her father wanted to name her Jessica, so they compromised. She was actually quite proud of the result. I listened to the many haikus that Yvonne had written on a whim, and while most were not bad, there were those that stood out from the rest. I respected Cyborg's dreams of being a candy shop owner, if only to rebel against his father, who was a dentist (though I still don't really understand how he'd earned the nickname 'Cyborg').

Time passed. Seven years, I have counted. Our bond grew stronger as we grew older and more mature. Yvonne's haikus became more original and less forced, Jennica took up dance to earn a living, and now and again Cyborg and Ryan passed each other certain glances (I know what you're thinking about that last remark; I was thinking the same thing).

And I had my second episode.

I remember having fought with Cyborg before it happened… something about his newly-discovered homosexuality, I guess. He told me to go to hell, and I suppose that's what triggered it.

The head doctor let me stay at the clinic for no charge when he learned of our status. That sure was nice of him… Anyway, he also informed us of a new movie that was coming out, called Edward Scissorhands…

And Vincent Price was in it.

His part was small, but important. He was the inventor who first gave Edward life.

When the doctor offered to take us to the premiere of the film, I… pardon my netspeak… I freaked. Because I learned that Vincent Price himself was going to be there, along with Dianne West, Anthony Michael Hall, Winona Ryder, and Johnny Depp (whoever the last guy was). Of course, the others had to agree. I admit I sort of forced them.

On December 14, 1990, all my dreams were to come true.

I died on that night.

I didn't commit suicide, as I'm sure most of you have assumed. No, in fact, there was an assassin at the premiere. He was apparently there to shoot Vincent Price to death. Of course, I couldn't let that happen, so I took the bullet. I remember my last living words exactly…

"I was your number-one fan."

As I write this, I am taking off my shirt (fanservice). There is a visible bullet wound on my chest. Just another reminder of what I was, and what I have since become.

My funeral was a week later. My parents were there, my sister, my aunt, my friends and fellow runaways, the doctor…

And he was there.

My body was buried with an autographed photo of him (To Vincent Malloy, my number-one fan. Thanks for saving my life.), along with a picture of me with the runaways, and Eddie, as I have mentioned.

After the funeral was over and everyone else had left, I heard the runways talking (that's right, I was there). Ryan said that they should split up to each follow their own dreams, and meet again at my grave ten years later. The others agreed, and that was the last time I ever saw them.

I have just recently learned that Price died three years later. How ironic. By the way, I cried over that.

When I came to the realm of the dead, I met Amy Menzel, queen of the dead. When she learned of my sacrifice, she resigned her rule and made me the new ruler. I earned the title of Prince Vince. Alright, you can stop making fun of it now. But I was so distraught because of my recent death, along with my lethal obsession, that I couldn't bring myself to smile. In fact, I was cursed to have a dark storm cloud follow me whenever I felt sad, which was often.

I hear that by Vivian now wears a V for Vendetta mask (without the goatee) everywhere, even at school, and is as obsessed with V as I was with Price. I hope she doesn't meet the same fate as I did… I've also heard that Willy (since he no longer goes by Cyborg) has finally reached his goal and now owns one of the largest chocolate factories in the world, Ryan is now in the music business, and Yvonne and Jennica work at a pet shop. How I wish I could see them again, after all these years…

Which is why I am leaving.

For the time being, I shall return to the realm of the living. I'll see how the reunion goes, what has become of Vivian, and anything else I have missed after my death.

To my subjects, goodbye for now. To anyone else who may read this, I hope this changes your perspective of me.

Prince Vincent Malloy.

So, did you like it? I think his cause of death suits him, don't you? And sumimasen to all Willy Wonka fangirls, because I know you exist. Please don't complain to me; complain to Johnny Depp for portraying him like that. So! Read, review, kthnksbai. D