CHAPTER 1
Arthur's POV
The past year has been so quiet. Each day I pray to God that Alfred would be about to call me. Every day I lose hope, because I know that he is gone. Several weeks after he was buried I decided that I would join him. I couldn't live in a world without him.
But somehow he must have stopped me. When I was going to jump the top of Big Ben I heard his voice. His deep voice trying to push me away from the edge of the building. My land is known for its ghosts, but that day I truly met one. That one ghost made me realize that there is a life after death.
When I lay next to Francis in bed, we stop for a moment and think about him. Some days we cannot talk about anything else. Other days hearing anything about him hurts. July 4th is one of the hardest days. January 23rd is the other hardest days. It was the day he committed suicide.
Sometimes I want to go back in time. I want to go back to the day that he broke up with me. I would fight harder for him. I would fight and stop him breaking up with me. But those are my only hopes and wishes.
In three months I am going to marry Francis. He is no Alfred but we both have Alfred in common. We both have lost someone that we have loved. I don't truly love Francis, but you can't marry someone who is dead. But if you could I would call back Alfred's spirit and marry him.
I have tried several times to call Alfred from the dead. But each time Ivan comes up saying "you called?" life it was him that I was trying to summon. Well excuse me Ivan but I don't want you. I want Alfred.
I know I have seeped into a depression. How could someone who has lost everything that y have loved, not? Its nature's way of telling you that you have nothing left. I have learnt that harshly and quickly.
I love Alfred. I need Alfred. I need him to come back to me for longer than a few minutes, which bought me to the idea of visiting the Statue of Liberty and summoning him from there. I know that Halloween would be the best time to summon him. October 31st. the day of his favourite holiday
On the 31/10/14 I decided it was time. Time to bring back the spirit of Alfred so we could talk once more before I truly let go of the love that I had for Alfred. To let go of the pain.
I flew over to New York. I know that I needed that I needed this. When I reached Manhattan, I rode a ferry to Statue of Liberty National Monument. I climbed up the top of the lady. I drew a pentagram on the head in chalk. I placed several Big Macs and large sodas around at each point of the star. I start chanting in Latin, calling on the spirit of Alfred to join the living until 11:59 pm. The powers inside of me begin to leave and go to find the one that I love. The longer that it takes the weaker I become.
As soon as I'm about to collapse I see his form begin to take place. His glasses are sitting on his nose. His hair is all messed up in that sexy way. He is wearing his jacket that he wore during the wars. He looks exactly like he used to. Except, his face shows pain. Pain of being disrupted from his eternal slumber. And I have caused that pain. That causes my own pain.
He just stares at me. I stare at him. I want to hug him. I want to kiss away his pain. I start choking up. He reaches over and tries to wipe away my tears. His hand goes through my face. It makes me cry even more. He can't do anything to help me.
I pick up one of the burgers and hold it out to him. His hand goes straight to the burger and once again his hand goes straight through it. I place the burger to his laps but he couldn't eat it. My heart is breaking. I can't believe that he can't eat his favourite food. I see his mouth open and close like he was trying to speak.
He struggles for ages. Slowly syllable by syllable he manages to speak.
"Ar…thur…I …love…you…I…need…to…go…it…is…al…most…mid…night" The effort that it takes him to speak is colossal. But he said that he loved me. That was all I needed. I check my watch and see that he is right. 11:59. I promised Satan that he would be back by 11:59.
"Goodbye, my love." I say as I scrub away the pentagram. As soon as he it was gone, Alfred was also gone. That was when I started to break apart. His visit made me realize that life and death were so close together. I pick up one of the burgers and start eating it. Now I can understand why Alfred loved them so much. The fat in them made one forget their troubles for a few minutes. Only something that Alfred would think up of.
It was then I decided to visit his home and check out the garden shed. I hadn't looked in it before today. I never had the nerve. But today was different. I had seen him and that had restored hope in me. I was ready to see what Alfred Foster Jones had given me.
I enter his house and see Matthew and Jett sitting there discussing something. I wave to them and they both nod. They know what I am doing, probably. I walk out the back door and into his backyard. The amount of flora that was there blew my mind. In the bottom back corner I see a shed. That is where I need to be. I walk up and open the door.
The first thing that I see is the old rifle. I pick it up and examine it. It looked normal until I see that there was a scratch on it. I did that. I did that when I thrusted my bayonet at him. I hastily put it down. I walked around and saw the toy soldiers. I made them for him. I broke my arm making them. And he kept them in mint condition. A smile warms my face. I pick up one with a dint in its bayonet. That is the one that I broke my arm making. I put it down the second my arm started aching. I open the closest in the corner of the room. There was nothing in there except a suit. I remember giving it to him. Not only that I remember arguing with Alfred about it. He didn't like the way I was dressing him. He wanted to dress his own way. I remember being hurt when he said he would only wear it on special occasions.
I had to leave the shed. All my emotion were going overboard. I can't handle owning all of his old things that I gave him. I walked back into the house. Jett and Matthew stopped talking and came to comfort me. They obviously knew where I was for the past hour. Jett stroked my hair the way I used to stroke his hair.
"You okay?" Matthew asked. I nodded in response.
"Do you want to go home?" Matthew asked. I nodded again. The two of them boarded me on a defence force plane. It was then I concluded I would never go back to America.
Dear Diary,
I summoned him. He said he loved me. I then went to see what he left me. It was everything that I gave him.
I want him back in my life. I need him. He obviously knew what he was doing by leaving me his old items. I wonder what he means by giving them to me.
Arthur Kirkland
