Hey It's me~! Again with the goddamn OC's :O!
Well my friend paired this girl! But I'll give you that we never really know if the Oc is in love with Mattie~! However England is Married to an Oc and there are mentions of others at th funeral…. Hehe please don't hurt me! Sorry for any errors!
This was based off a song called: "Haunted House Make a Secret" by LM.C….
So I guess it's a song fic -Cheap ass :3
~AICAT
The day was cold and wet. Not just from the cold English rain, but from the tears of the small family that lined up around a grave. It was brand new, just set today. The stone was a polished gray marble, speckled with quartz and various other imperfections. The Years had been carved out carefully onto the shimmering surface. "1990-2007" He had lived to the age of 17, a fine age. The epitaph he had written himself. It read "For those who loved me, if anyone ever loved me, I am sorry, but for who can live loved when not loved by himself?". Rain beat down harshly on the family. Standing in front of the grave was Arthur Kirkland, Alfred Jones, Gilbert Beilschmidt, Kaoru Kirkland, Alice Annabelle Kirkland, Francis Bonnefoy, Jackson Kirkland, Silvia Franco, and Sarah McCoy.
Most of these people were his immediate family. Only Silvia and Gilbert were friends, and Silvia was to be married to Arthur soon. Arthur held onto his fiancé, who was crying for her now dead step son. Alfred let tears trail down his cheeks, cursing that he couldn't save his young twin brother. Kaoru was silent but he held onto his mother's hand tightly and made sobbing noises. Annabelle was trying not to cry for the sake of her son but the pain of losing her young cousin proved too much for the business woman. Francis felt the hot tears against his cheeks; he hadn't shed a tear since the death of his beloved Jeanne, now his son had left him. Gilbert felt horrid, but he shut up, knowing his friend wouldn't have wanted him to cry. Jackson held onto his cousin Sarah who was crying loudly, in all truth he wanted to cry as well.
Every day it seemed to the now dead boy, he didn't exist, as if he was a burden to his friends and family. He was either ignored or beaten at school. He had a weak body and got hurt and sick a lot. His only friends were Silvia and Gilbert, who didn't even go to his school. His closest friend was a small polar bear who couldn't remember who he was, even after 17 years. You could see that he wasn't very popular; all of the people at this "Funeral" were the only people he ever spoke to. He had kept himself so kind, so selfless and so indifferent that no one had noticed his loneliness and abandonment. When he was found his frozen corpse stared them sorely into the eyes, the ghost of his last smiled still etched upon his blue lips. The boy had committed suicide. Tired of being ignored as if he were invisible, he cut his wrists open and drown himself in a freezing lake.
This boy's name was Matthew Williams, a 17 year old French Canadian citizen. His father was Francis Bonnefoy who placed him in the care of Arthur Kirkland. He had a twin brother named Alfred Jones who was very popular and outgoing and his little brother Jackson who was wild and fun loving. His cousins were Annabelle Kirkland (Arthur's cousin), Kaoru Kirkland (Annabelle's son), and Sarah McCoy (Arthur's sister). Silvia was his friend from work; she was Arthur's bride to be. Silvia was like a big sister and she loved him very much. Gilbert was just a conceited odd ball who clung to Matthew because he figured that he and Matthew were to cool to have a group. The two were best friends. Matthew was tall with long platinum hair and bright indigo eyes. His skin was pale and his face always appeared calm or embarrassed. He was very thin and managed to stay that way with much more ease than Alfred.
That is Matthew. The boy who died of Loneliness, secrets and fear. Secrets of hate, betrayal, death and horror. His mind shook with these feelings until his brain pulsated madly. It drove him mad, and perhaps, to the outcome of his life.
I hear you ask who I am. Well if you really wish to know then here is my introduction.
My name is Matthew Williams, I am 3 years dead.
The nice thing about being dead was that you didn't get hungry or tired. I also couldn't be seen and I could spy on people, though it was probably not the best way to spend my time. I wondered constantly if there were any more people like me, who were dead but still here. I had never met another person like me. Never. It was lonely I guess, but I felt more at peace then I did when I was alive. Silvia had married Arthur two years ago and since then, had a child by the name of Ace. He was my little brother. Alfred had moved out to live with his girlfriend Hai, and Jackson had moved in with some friends. Now only Silvia, Arthur and Ace lived in the old house. Sometimes I would sneak into Ace's room and talk to him, he could see me. I guess it may have been because he was so young and no one had told him things like me didn't exist. Ace couldn't speak very well but he would say things like "Hi!" "I'm 2 and a half!" "I'm this many!" and "I like to explore!". He was a really nice kid; I knew he would grow up to be special.
My days consisted of wandering the house, wandering my grave site, watching Silvia and my father, and talking with Ace. It wasn't too bad, I had one friend. But I knew when Ace grew up, he wouldn't be able to see me anymore. It was a little sad to know that I would never be able to help raise my little brother, but it was my fault for taking a dive in the middle of January. I guess I did kind of regret slicing open my wrists and hopping over a bridge, it wasn't my brightest idea. But I was already six feet under and my body was probably worm food at this point so I paid no real mind to it. And even if it had been in good shape I couldn't go into a dead body, I'd only die again.
One morning there was a big fuss. I went down the floor to see what everyone was yelling about. Standing in the doorway was a small girl, no older than 16. She was grasping a suitcase tightly and frowning.
"Hermana." She said in a monotonous voice.
Silvia walked up to her with open arms. "Sis! I'm so glad you made it here safely! How was your flight?"
"Jet lag." Was the girls reply as Arthur took her bag.
"That's what happens when you fly from Panama to England." Arthur said as he took the bag up the stairs.
Once he left her sight she frowned. "I don't like him. I only deal with him because you love him."
Silvia's face fell. "I know… But come! You have to meet Ace! He looks just like you sis!" She dragged the small girl up the stairs to Ace's room.
It was nice to see someone coming into the house. It felt a little warmer, even though I couldn't feel. I learned her name was Cecelia and she was 16 years old. She was small for her age, very small and very thin. She had chestnut hair that was tied with a crimson ribbon, bright blue eyes and dark skin. She was very pretty and looked just like her big sister. She was supposed to move into the attic, where I spent my time.
Silvia and Arthur helped her unpack what little she had and left the room for her to nap. After saying goodbye to them she turned around and exhaled.
"Why has no one mentioned you to me?" She said.
I blinked, confused and pointed to myself. "Me?"
She nodded. "Yes you, who did you think I was talking to?" she asked in an annoyed tone.
"You can see me?" I asked.
"Yes, can't everyone?" She said as she hopped on her bed.
"No. Only Ace, no one has ever seen me." I said to her.
"I was wondering why you were blue and transparent." She stated calmly. "You're one of those aren't you?"
"I'm what?" I asked. "Dead? Yes I'm as dead as dead can get."
"I was wondering if you were a Specter." She asked me.
"A Specter?" I repeated.
"Dead but not so dead. You're still here, it's like a ghost." Cecelia clarified. "No one told me this was a haunted house."
I smiled sheepishly. "Well it's because not only can no one see me, but no one really remembers me." I sat on the ground. "It's not like I throw things or open windows to scare people."
"I wouldn't think you would." Cecelia said simply. "That would be a stupid waste of time."
I nodded. "I have no ill feelings toward these people. It would be pretty boring."
She smiled. "I can imagine. So who are you?"
"Dead." I said.
"That's not who you are, that's what you are. Name please?"
I frowned. "Holly."
"Your name is not Holly." She said flatly.
"Nope. But I don't feel like sharing my real name." I said smiling at her.
"Then my name is Hally." She said.
"But I know your name!"
"My name is Hally!" She pressed on.
"Ok, my name is Holly and your name is Hally." I decided, giving up on the small girl.
"Good. So who are you Holly?" She asked.
"I'm 17 years alive and three years dead. I'm French Canadian and I've lived in this house my whole life and death." I said. "You?"
"Well I'm 16, Mexican-Panamanian and I've lived in Panama all my life." She replied. "Your Canadian Holly? Why are you in England?"
"My adoptive father lives here, my real father registered me in Canada."
"Your adoptive father?" She asked.
"Yes. He just got married." I smiled, remembering having watched Silvia and Arthur get married. "I really like his wife. She's very kind."
"How did you die?" She questioned.
I stiffened. "That's classified." I sunk through the floor, only exposing my head to her.
"Is that supposed to scare me?" She tapped her foot, obviously aggravated.
"No…" She kind of intimidated me.
It was silent for a moment. "Can one go to the roof safely in this house?" She asked.
"Yes, there's a door right above your dresser that leads up there." I said as I floated back out of the floor.
She nodded her head. "Good, then let's go on the roof."
"What? Why? You could fall and die!" I said. "I don't want to see people falling off roofs."
"I will not fall off a roof. That would be a shitty way to die, unintentionally falling from a roof." She stated as she stood on the dresser, searching for the latch.
"This isn't a good idea Hally!" I exclaimed as I floated next to her. "You could get hurt!"
"It's a roof, not a death trap." She said. Her hand rested on a small knob and with a push she forced open the latch.
"But-!" I began.
"No. I want to go on the damn roof and you're not going to stop me." Cecelia clambered through the latch and pulled herself onto the roof. "See, its ok! Come on!"
I fidgeted before floating through the roof.
She rolled her eyes. "Show off!"
"I'm sorry." I said timidly as I sat next to her. "I just do it unintentionally."
"Sure. So you can't even pretend to be normal?" She asked.
"But I'm dead-!"
"I know you're dead. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out." She observed him. "You are very tall Holly."
I nodded. "I've always been tall, but never very strong." I smiled a bit. "But I can carry really big things now!"
A small smile crept onto her lips. "One good thing about being dead, you are now super strong." She paused. "Don't you go through things?"
"Not if I want to pick up something, I have to think about it." I said. "But for the most part I just go through things."
She grinned. "Well that's real interesting."
"I guess." I blushed slightly at all the attention I was getting.
"So Holly, we're roommates. Friends?" She asked as she put out her hand.
"Sure, we can be friends." I said, trying to make it so I could shake hands.
"Having problems?" She asked. "You can just touch my hand."
I nodded, embarrassed at the failed attempt. I poked her hand lightly.
"That will work." She said.
"So Hally, what's Panama like?"
Many months passed and "Hally" and I became close. I don't think she ever noticed that I was the same small boy in all of Arthur's pictures, or from the grave that Silvia visited on Saturdays. She seemed a bit oblivious to the whole ordeal of "Matthew Williams". I was fairly happy for that, I figured she'd think I was stupid or weird for killing myself. And so I became "Holly". It was a stupid name really, but it worked.
Some days I would go to school with her, and she would write notes to me in class. Sometimes the teacher caught her and demanded to know who "Holly" was. Holly eventually became a big joke around the school, if they didn't know who did it, it was Holly. Some kids thought I was Cecelia's imaginary friend, others thought I might be her boyfriend that has a cute nickname. We joked about me being an imaginary friend constantly, or a conscious. She would do silly things like in the middle of class she'd tell the teacher that I knew the answer if no one knew it, I'd tell her and she'd tell the teacher. The teachers reaction was funny I had to say. She drew doodles on her work of us too, like me dressed as a zombie or her fighting a "Valley Girl Dragon". The teachers also hated the silly drawings, I thought many times about drawing something on the paper to scare them and prove that "Holly" was real. People started drawing Holly as a really big handsome boy to make jokes, that Holly intimidated me. She thought it was funny how I was jealous of a depiction of myself and that even in death I had self esteem issues. Eventually she asked the Japanese boy in her class to draw a picture of me based on her description. She had to ask me silly questions, like what my hair color and eye color were but when the picture was finished it looked just like me. She then made an announcement on the schools televised announcements that the picture was what I looked like as she held it up for the school to see. I found it funny how popular Holly was, while Matthew only had two friends. I wondered if Cecelia would've been my friend if I was like her.
"Are you annoyed by how popular you are Holly?" She asked me.
"Not really, unless it bothers you." I replied as I floated above the schools crowd.
"It's hard to talk to you when you're two more feet above me." She stated.
I blushed and floated down to her height. "Sorry."
"It's fine; you can't help your unnatural height and floating habits." She smiled.
"Heh… Sorry Hally." I said.
"Are you ever going to tell me your name? Holly is such a silly name for a boy and Hally is just as stupid." She went silent. "You are a boy, right?"
I smiled. "Yeah, I'm a boy."
She let out a sigh of relief. "Good! But really, why won't you tell me?"
I turned upside-down in thought, something I did frequently. "No, because then you'll know how I died."
"Why is that such a big deal? Were you murdered or something?" She pressed on.
"Well I guess you could say that." I said, thinking about it.
"Do you know who killed you? Is he in jail?" She asked.
"Yeah, he died too." I said softly.
"Oh." She closed her mouth and walked a little faster. "Let's not be late Holly."
When we got home Silvia greeted her with a snack, as usual and then Cecelia would go upstairs to do her Homework. I found her homework easy, so I helped her with it, it was only sophomore work and I had died a senior. I did find it hard to write on the paper, though my hand kept going through the pencil I had tried to use. She had been spacing out all day, though it was odd even for her.
"What's the matter Hally?" I asked.
"Are you real?" She questioned.
"Huh?" I blinked twice, confused by the question.
"Are you really there Holly or am I crazy?"
I frowned a bit. "I am real. I think I am… Why? Are you mad at me or something?"
"No, I was just thinking about why you were here… Why can I see you and no one else can...?" She said quietly.
"Because you're special!" I said happily. "Someone knew I needed a friend so they had you come here to cheer me up!"
"What is your name Holly?" She asked me again.
I hid my face. "I don't want to tell you."
"Why? Do you not trust me?" She pressed on.
"N-no! I just hate my name!" I replied, waving my hands in front of my body.
"Then you can tell me!" She continued.
"But I-!"
"Tell me."
I turned around. "Matthew Williams wasmy name."
"Mathieu Williams." She repeated.
"Yes that was my name when I was alive." I covered my mouth with one of my hands and I sat on the floor.
"I know you." She said finally, nodding to herself. "You were Arthur's son. You drowned yourself in a lake."
"Did he mention the wrist thing?" I asked.
"No he left out the cutting thing." She said.
"No, I slit open my wrists and bled to death." I continued. "I only jumped into the lake so I would go into shock and not feel any pain; the real cause of death was blood loss."
"So you killed yourself?" She asked. "Why?"
"But for who can live loved when not loved by himself?" I recited. "Those were the words I asked to be printed on my tombstone."
"You write that yourself?" She smiled a little, but I could see she was a little scared.
"Yeah, when I was alive I wanted to be a writer." I said.
"That sounds like it would've been wonderful…" She said, her eyes seemed coated with water as she spoke.
"I bet it would've."
"Do you regret killing yourself?" She asked, tears now ran down her face.
"If you'd have asked me that a year ago I would've said no." I attempted to wipe a tear from her face, managing to get one. "But now I regret not being able to shake your hand the first time we met." I spoke softly.
She tried grabbing my hand but she went right through me. "Holly, can you make me a poem? It would make me feel better."
I smiled. "That's the Hally I know and love. Sure, I'll make something for you and when you finish your work I will show it to you."
"Ok, but this better not be a master plan to get me to do my homework on my own."
"No, I really will write something for you." I grinned.
I took long to write the silly poem. It wasn't very good but I figured she may like it; I had tried my best on it. After a week I approached her.
"Hally! I finished your poem! Here!" I held it out to her, beaming.
She didn't respond, simply looking at her homework.
"Hally? I finished!" I repeated, slightly dejected.
She didn't notice me.
"Hally, this isn't funny! Come on! Hally?" I tried to touch her arm but I only went through her.
"Hally? Please! Hally!" I tried again and again but she didn't respond.
I cold flush of realization hit me at that moment. "You can't see me."
I felt my throat grow dry and harsh and tears forming in my eyes. "Hally?"
She couldn't see me anymore.
I dropped the paper and left that house, I never returned.
It had been maybe a month since I left the small house, I had stayed in a small empty house since then. That day I got up and floated out the door. I was going to visit my grave. It was a silly thing but I figured maybe I would see Silvia there, she always found some way to make me smile, even if she couldn't see me.
I walked into the graveyard only to see Silvia crying at another grave. I walked over and tried touching her shoulder, only to realize that I couldn't anymore. Her face was red and in her arms were two bouquets of flowers. One had White orchids, the other had roses. She placed the roses by my grave and the Orchids on the one in front of her. It had me wondering who the person was. Who had died since I left? I bent down next to her and looked at the grave.
"Cecelia Franco
June 15, 1993- December 12, 2010
My name is Hally is what I will say to those frozen waters."
On my birthday, Cecelia Franco jumped into frozen waters and drown herself. Suicide.
Hally was dead.
((In case you're wondering, this was Matthews Poem))
"My name is Holly my neighbor is Hally.
That days evening twilight I pulled on her hand and it was love at first sight with that child.
Blue pupil and her dark skin. Her flowing chestnut hair in a crimson ribbon.
That's when it started, my chest tightened.
Secretly Papa sneaks out of bed and jokingly shows up in Mama's dress.
If that child see's 7 colors vividly in the mansion that has become old.
A lot of things, a lot of people and yet that child is lonely everywhere.
Always dressing you feelings alone in a graveyard.
It's getting late though Hally.
My transparent body, well I can't hold onto that child tightly anymore.
So it's a night when the stars are so pretty like this. It always hurts to be close.
My name is Holly, My neighbor is Hally.
I'm alone again "She is like a lily."
But we forget the morning we enter together forever.
And it eventually leads us alone into a graveyard.
It's getting late though Hally.
We cool down, well I can't wipe away that Childs tears anymore.
So let's secretly speak our minds, it will always hurt to be near.
If the seasons go around and that child,
Someday grows old, I become unable to be seen.
And it's probably all forgotten entirely,
The moon near the window is blurred.
It's getting late though Hally.
My transparent body, well I can't hold onto that girl tightly anymore.
And if the red string may break, my finger will fall to the floor.
Because a Secret is a Secret."