Disclaimer::I own Laura, Tod, Tommy, and the two headed ghost.
The funny thing about Laura that morning was that......she wasn't herself. She was quiet, pale, ghostly silent. It disturbed her husband, Tod.
"Laura? What's wrong, kiddo?"
She just kept staring at the top corner of the room. Tod sat down next to her in a kitchen chair.
"Laura. Listen to me. I need you to tell me what the matter is. Is it Tommy?"
He grasped her hand, thinking of his two-year-old son. Her hands were cold-no freezing. She just stared at the corner.
"What are you looking at, dear?"
He looked to where she was looking and his gaze fell apon a simple wall.
"Honey. Please tell me what's the matter. I'd really like to know."
She was quiet, cold, ghostly, still.
"Well, I'm sorry but I need to go to work."
He kissed her cold, bony cheek and stood up to leave when she sobbed out,
"Please make them stop. Make them go away."
He paused and turned around. She hadn't been acting normal since they moved to Indiana. He knew she loved their glass house, but she didn't act it after their first few nights.
"Make what stop, Laura?"
He grasped her hand once more. Her eyes turned to Tod's face.
"Them." She said, pointing behind him. He turned and there stood two ghosts. Gory and bloody. Tod jumped a foot in the air, and stood protectively in front of Laura. They found her gaze now on the and began to walk slowly towards her.
"No," she mumbled. "No, no,...NO. NO!"
She began yelling over, and over. The reached her and dropped the cloak that covered both of their bodies. Laura screamed as Tod held her close. The ghost's bodies were attached at the middle, and where the stomache was supposed to be, a gaping hole with razor teeth on the edges took it's place.
"Laura, don't worry. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real..."
The cops found Tod laying on the kitchen floor muttering that, half dead, with his dead wife in his arms. She had most of her skin missing, but he only had a bit of his arm missing. This is what started the rumors of the Glass House. And they never found the child, Tommy.
A/N::So...What did you think of my default chapter? Don't worry, it'll get better.
A/N::Thank-you for e-mailing me your replies, guys. I'm happy you like them. But please...don't get angry with me if these don't get out all too fast. I get writer's block just like every other author! TTFN! Ta-ta for now!
Disclaimer::I own Tommy/Stephano, and Jaimee
Sixteen years had past since Tommy's dissapearance. Tod had been sent to an insane asylum, and Laura had been given a funeral for her remaining family members to arive to. The Glass House was abandoned and many wanted it to be destroyed, though no luck would come from that. The ghosts would find different places to haunt, most likely the homes of those who destroy the House. Yes, ghosts. More than one. Plural. And Tommy...no one ever knew that it was one of the ghosts in the house who raised him. But as soon as he was eighteen, he left and lived outside his work. His name had been changed to Stephano Goodman. He worked in a resturant, and rented an apartment close by there. He never knew of his parents, just of small memories of a smiling man and woman who loved eachother dearly. The ghosts didn't take his leaving well, though...
Five days after he left, they knew he wasn't coming back, so the one who raised him came. She looked at him; his soft brown hair falling over his eyes, which were closed, and his shallow breathing.
"Stephano. Wake up."
She cooed. He stirred a little, but didn't wake. The one thing that always woke him up was when she ran her hand through his chest, so she did so, and he woke with a giant leap.
"Jaimee! You frightened me!"
'Sixteen years of living with ghosts, and the eighteen year old was still frightened,' Jaimee mused to herself. She saw his shallow breathing had turned to a fast pace. She laughed soothingly as he sat up, clutching his chest.
"Calm down, I just wanted to know why you left."
She smoothed his hair, making herself as hman-like as possible. He shivered at her touch.
"Because, Jaimee, I can't live with ghosts my whole life. I need to get a family. I need to get a better job. I need to get a permanent adress. All of those things! What is there for me at the Glass House?"
She stood and looked down at him suddenly as if in a hurt tone. Stephano was suddenly glad she wasn't as irritable as the other ghosts were.
"I never knew you felt that way, Stephano..."
If ghosts could cry, there might be shed tears.
"Well, I do, Jaimee. I do."
With one look at him, the ghost turned pale once more, and drifted away from sight, leaving Stephano to fend for himself, as he wished. She left small sobs and short, quiet wails in her wake, making him feel even worse.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, "I'm sorry."
Following that, Stephano wanted to go to sleep, though he couldn't. The night slowly ticked and tocked by on the mantelpeice clock he had taken from the Glass House. Finally the sun rose, and Stephano had to pull himself up and go to work.