While I am rather unhappy about the fact that the next season is going to follow different characters since I've grown to love the original cast so much, I will admit that it gives me a secret thrill that this story could technically be canon. Don't judge me.
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How many centuries since you've climbed a balcony, or do you do this every night with someone else? You tell me that you never leave, and I am almost afraid to believe it. Why is it me you've chosen to follow? Did you like the way I look when I am sleeping, was my hair more fun to tangle? Are my dreams more entertaining? Do you laugh when I'm complaining that I'm all alone?
When Briony is hospitalized for falling down the steps, she tells her mother that it was because of her tremors that she slipped. She doesn't tell her the truth. She isn't sure how her mother would react to her saying "I think there is a bunch of ghosts in the house, mom. And one of them talked to me today."Even Briony can admit that it sounds totally crazy. Most normal girls would think that it was a gang of criminals or thieves who kept breaking into the house, not jump right into the mostly-ghostly explanation. Well, she never was normal. No matter how hard she tried.
The ghost was a girl. Around Briony's age, she estimated. She wore a loose cardigan and a purple dress, and carried a book in her hands as she ascended the long stairs. For some reason, Briony remembers the book being The Starlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne, but it all happened so fast she couldn't possibly be right. The girl spoke to her.
"You have to leave." The girl had said, simply put and matter-of-factly. She didn't rattle chains or make the noises you usually hear ghosts say in old movies. No graveyard moans. She was no Jacob Marley, or some sort of specter. She was pretty, even. The kind of girl Briony would envy if she saw her on the street. She would be prettier, even, if she hadn't looked so sad. Yeah, there was no way that she was a hallucination, that was for sure.
Briony immediately felt herself get dizzy and slip backwards down the stairs, banging her head on the hardwood floor. She laid there for a few moments, feeling the blood gather around her hair as her head spun. She heard a group of voices talking around her. Look what you did, one of them hissed. What if she dies, Violet? There was a shuffling noise. A sigh. Yeah, someone chuckled. It's crowded enough as it is. Briony blinked, tried to unblur her vision and see them. But then she blacked out.
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"You sure you're okay, babe?" Briony's mother asks her as helps her balance on her crutches, walking into the door. Briony doesn't know why she came back to the house, or for that matter, why she hasn't mentioned of it to her mom. It had to have something to do with the fact that she wasn't depending on anyone about it, which was usually the case in the areas of her life - but this was her secret. And maybe she could handle it on her own. Perform an exorcist or whatever the fuck you did for ghosts in the 21st century. Become their friend, maybe.
Moira knew something, Briony had realized as her mother helped her maneuver her crutches into the front yard. And it wasn't just because the lady had a spooky vibe to begin with. No, it was something else. The older woman was watching them from the upstairs window. Her lips were pursed and unmoving but somehow, maybe it was her eyes, Briony got the impression that she was smiling.
