A/N: Hello everyone. Thank you so much for reading. Sorry it took long to
update, I've been very busy with school. But I finally managed to finish
this chapter and I really think you will like it.
Susannah:
I scrambled out of bed and down the hall, leaving my perplexed mother in the room alone, cursing myself for not having called Father Dominic last night when I was supposed to. Jesse could be halfway to Heaven by now and it would be my fault. Because I know for sure that's what happened. Paul had gotten his foul hands on Jesse, and sent him to the great beyond. Now that I was out of the way, I could only imagine how simple that would be.
And it was all my fault.
I staggered into the living room and asked Andy for the telephone. He pointed to the kitchen table and I frantically dialed Father Dom's number.
"Pick up," I said to myself. "Pick up. Pick up." I couldn't help noticing Andy looking at me a little strangely. But whatever. Like I actually cared what my step-father thought of me when Paul had just exorcized my boyfriend.
But seriously, what else could have gone wrong? I mean, he couldn't be sick. The only other option is Paul. At least that's what I was thinking when Father D answered the phone with a calm,"Hello?"
"Father Dominic," I said, going back to my bedroom for a little privacy. Once I was there I said, "What's wrong with Jesse? Did Paul exorcise him?"--and without waiting for a response--"Well, did he?"
"Now, Susannah," he said in his let's-be-reasonable voice. "I want you to promise me that you will handle this maturely and responsibly. I know how you tend to act recklessly during times like these."
"Times like...times like what? What are you talking about?" I cried.
"There is no need to shout, Susannah. Now, I want you to promise me."
"Fine." I said. "I promise. Now tell me what happened."
Father Dom took a deep breath."Alright. Jesse is, well, unconscious, being the only way I can describe it, really."
"W...Wait," I said, shaking my head. It felt like all the wind had been knocked out of me. "He's what? How is it possible for a ghost to be unconscious? Isn't he, like, already dead?"
"Yes, Susannah, that's what gets me as well. I really do not know what is going--" And then he hung up. Seriously. He hung up on me. Well, it probably got disconnected, because he stopped mid-sentence, but still. Jesse practically passed out and I can't do anything to help him. All I can do is sit here and wonder what in the world is going on.
Jesse:
I opened my eyes, my head spinning. What happened? Where am I? Where's my father? Where is Maria?
But instead of seeing my father, I spotted an old priest sitting near me, looking stunned, a strange black object lay on the floor near his feet. And instead of being at my uncle Juan's ranch, I was in some kind of office, the thick adobe walls looming above me.
"Jesse?" The preist asked walking over next to me, a concerned look in his ice blue eyes. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"Who...who are you? And how do you know my name?" I asked, resting my hand on my forehead. This was sure to be some kind of dream. I mean, why was I suddenly in this strange place, and not my uncle's hacienda? And what were all these strange machines and gadgets scattered about the room?
"Where am I?" I wondered, still pretty dazed.
"Jesse," he said, a baffled look in his eyes. "What's going on? You need to stop joking, and tell me what is going on."
"Nothing, I have to get home." I said, and climbed off of the sofa I had been lying on. I staggered out the door and into a breezeway crowded with kids, all wearing the strangest clothing. But was even more strange was that they were looking at me like I was some alien. I wasn't the one who's pants were hanging down to my knees, like some of these kids.
Some people literally stopped and stared at me. But I didn't care. I didn't care at all. All I wanted to do was get out of this dream, this nightmare, and go home.
Home.
Home. That was the only thing on my mind and I staggered into a courtyard, and nudged my way through clusters of scantily clad kids, not knowing where I was going. It was still on my mind as I arrived somewhere where there were no people staring at me, or laughing at me, where I could be alone and figure out what the hell was going on.
I looked around, shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun, and, judging my the scattered headstones, I was in some sort of a cemetary.
I wandered through the maze of headstones to a crypt, with the word Diego engraved on the door. Finally. Finally, something I recognized.
But I felt as if someone had just delivered me a couple of punches in the gut while I ran my fingers over the words: Felix Diego- 1820-1895.
No. No, that can't be, I thought. Because Felix Diego is alive. He is alive. And it is only 1850. What is going on? I felt my eyes grow larger as I read the words: Maria Teresa de Silva Diego- 1832-1897.
This was not possible. Maria, dead? No. No. What was even more unbelievable was her last name. Diego. That must mean...those rumors about her and Felix were true. But she wasn't dead, either.
I spun around, trying to take this all in, and looked down to read a headstone that was nearby. But when I did, my hands had suddenly gotten cold and sweaty at the same time, and I felt another sinking feeling in my stomach.
Because the words written on that other headstone were: Here lies Hector "Jesse" de Silva: 1830-1850. Beloved brother, son and friend.
A/N: Omg! lol, I hope you liked it. Please review!! I'll try to get another chapter up this weekend. Thanks so much, Luna.
Susannah:
I scrambled out of bed and down the hall, leaving my perplexed mother in the room alone, cursing myself for not having called Father Dominic last night when I was supposed to. Jesse could be halfway to Heaven by now and it would be my fault. Because I know for sure that's what happened. Paul had gotten his foul hands on Jesse, and sent him to the great beyond. Now that I was out of the way, I could only imagine how simple that would be.
And it was all my fault.
I staggered into the living room and asked Andy for the telephone. He pointed to the kitchen table and I frantically dialed Father Dom's number.
"Pick up," I said to myself. "Pick up. Pick up." I couldn't help noticing Andy looking at me a little strangely. But whatever. Like I actually cared what my step-father thought of me when Paul had just exorcized my boyfriend.
But seriously, what else could have gone wrong? I mean, he couldn't be sick. The only other option is Paul. At least that's what I was thinking when Father D answered the phone with a calm,"Hello?"
"Father Dominic," I said, going back to my bedroom for a little privacy. Once I was there I said, "What's wrong with Jesse? Did Paul exorcise him?"--and without waiting for a response--"Well, did he?"
"Now, Susannah," he said in his let's-be-reasonable voice. "I want you to promise me that you will handle this maturely and responsibly. I know how you tend to act recklessly during times like these."
"Times like...times like what? What are you talking about?" I cried.
"There is no need to shout, Susannah. Now, I want you to promise me."
"Fine." I said. "I promise. Now tell me what happened."
Father Dom took a deep breath."Alright. Jesse is, well, unconscious, being the only way I can describe it, really."
"W...Wait," I said, shaking my head. It felt like all the wind had been knocked out of me. "He's what? How is it possible for a ghost to be unconscious? Isn't he, like, already dead?"
"Yes, Susannah, that's what gets me as well. I really do not know what is going--" And then he hung up. Seriously. He hung up on me. Well, it probably got disconnected, because he stopped mid-sentence, but still. Jesse practically passed out and I can't do anything to help him. All I can do is sit here and wonder what in the world is going on.
Jesse:
I opened my eyes, my head spinning. What happened? Where am I? Where's my father? Where is Maria?
But instead of seeing my father, I spotted an old priest sitting near me, looking stunned, a strange black object lay on the floor near his feet. And instead of being at my uncle Juan's ranch, I was in some kind of office, the thick adobe walls looming above me.
"Jesse?" The preist asked walking over next to me, a concerned look in his ice blue eyes. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"Who...who are you? And how do you know my name?" I asked, resting my hand on my forehead. This was sure to be some kind of dream. I mean, why was I suddenly in this strange place, and not my uncle's hacienda? And what were all these strange machines and gadgets scattered about the room?
"Where am I?" I wondered, still pretty dazed.
"Jesse," he said, a baffled look in his eyes. "What's going on? You need to stop joking, and tell me what is going on."
"Nothing, I have to get home." I said, and climbed off of the sofa I had been lying on. I staggered out the door and into a breezeway crowded with kids, all wearing the strangest clothing. But was even more strange was that they were looking at me like I was some alien. I wasn't the one who's pants were hanging down to my knees, like some of these kids.
Some people literally stopped and stared at me. But I didn't care. I didn't care at all. All I wanted to do was get out of this dream, this nightmare, and go home.
Home.
Home. That was the only thing on my mind and I staggered into a courtyard, and nudged my way through clusters of scantily clad kids, not knowing where I was going. It was still on my mind as I arrived somewhere where there were no people staring at me, or laughing at me, where I could be alone and figure out what the hell was going on.
I looked around, shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun, and, judging my the scattered headstones, I was in some sort of a cemetary.
I wandered through the maze of headstones to a crypt, with the word Diego engraved on the door. Finally. Finally, something I recognized.
But I felt as if someone had just delivered me a couple of punches in the gut while I ran my fingers over the words: Felix Diego- 1820-1895.
No. No, that can't be, I thought. Because Felix Diego is alive. He is alive. And it is only 1850. What is going on? I felt my eyes grow larger as I read the words: Maria Teresa de Silva Diego- 1832-1897.
This was not possible. Maria, dead? No. No. What was even more unbelievable was her last name. Diego. That must mean...those rumors about her and Felix were true. But she wasn't dead, either.
I spun around, trying to take this all in, and looked down to read a headstone that was nearby. But when I did, my hands had suddenly gotten cold and sweaty at the same time, and I felt another sinking feeling in my stomach.
Because the words written on that other headstone were: Here lies Hector "Jesse" de Silva: 1830-1850. Beloved brother, son and friend.
A/N: Omg! lol, I hope you liked it. Please review!! I'll try to get another chapter up this weekend. Thanks so much, Luna.