A/N: My first Ginger Snaps fic. I haven't really explored fan fiction outside of Stand By Me, but I am, how you say, a veteran. First let me explain some bits of my story.
Memories from Bridgette, some from the movie, some I'm making up. Alternate ending. Story begins from when Bridgette and Sam are in the closet. Bridgette POV.
Disclaimer: I own no one, so far…
Chapter One:
"How about you take this and we blow…" Sam suggests to me as if I'm going to seriously leave Ginger like this.
"How about no…" I say looking at him as if he has three heads. My head rushes with dizziness, and I'm sweating like the fucking Mississippi river.
"Well let me do it you can hardly move…" He says with that look in his eyes that tells me something more.
"No." I say. It's my fault Ginger is this way. It's our problem, and I'll be the one to fix it.
"You can't do this by yourself let me take the needle, I'll go into the kitchen, you lead her in bam were done..." Sam tells me his half-baked plan. Well, it's not like I've got a better one. He's looking at me strange. A look he gave me a lot, but I never know what to make of it. Then I remember.
"I don't think of you that way." Sam had once said, and now it echoed in my ear.
"Okay…" I say, in response to his plan.
He opens the door to peek for Ginger. "Okay, I'm going…" He tells me.
"Sam…" I call after him.
"What is it? What's wrong?" He says fast. It tells me he worries.
This is the first time I've ever wanted to feel what it's like to kiss a boy. But this isn't exactly the time or place to do so, not that I would try anything anyway. Howling echoes around us as we jump. My head is spinning with so many thoughts, I feel as if I'm going blind.
Sam looks at me with a smile, and opens the closet door a little more. He takes my hand in his and leads me into the kitchen quietly. We crouch beside each other, listening for Ginger.
"When she's close, distract her." He whispers, and I get a surge through me like nothing before. Flashbacks of Sam and Ginger rush through my mind, and suddenly I'm seeing memories of Ginger's and me death scenes. I don't know why I did them with her. The whole thing never really sat well with me. Looking at pictures of my death was not something I found fun, for some reason, Ginger did.
"I don't want to die." I whisper, Sam looks at me with a still face. I said it mostly to Ginger, I think.
"You won't die…" Sam tells me. "I've got this."
"That's encouraging…"
"Bridgette…"
Footsteps grew louder and louder as I thought. I stand up and gasp. Big yellow eyes glare at me. And that's when I realized. I'm so dead. It felt like years, but could only possibly be a few seconds before Sam stood up, in front of me, because Ginger pounced on him and clawed at his shoulder.
The needle flew out of his hand with one clean swipe of Ginger's claws to his forearm. It seemed that he was crawling towards it when Ginger lifted her head. Swiftly he kicked her in the throat and ran into the living room. He stood up as she charged for him. He went back when she landed on his chest and I thought she ripped his fucking head off. I could hear him scream, which sent shivers up my spine when I took that as a good sign. The sound of Sam's scream was the most bone shattering sound to ever ring in my ears. Sam's scream was all for pain. I remember when the werewolf in the woods attacked Ginger; her scream, was all fear.
"No!" I cried. She turns her head and her yellow eyes can see right through me, I can feel it. Even when she was Ginger my sister, not Ginger the monster, she could see through me like glass.
With her charge I picked up a butcher knife from the knife rack and ran for the stairs. I could feel her breath on my ankles and her saliva on my legs. Banging gonged from the kitchen, and Ginger had stopped to face the noise.
"Hey Ginger, you bitch!" Sam called over the loud clatter of pots and pans. Ginger flies down the steps, as the musical pots and pans drop.
I tumble to the bottom of the stairs, my knees feeling weak. I hear screams and howls bellow through my ear canal. I peer over to see Ginger, looking, no, charging in my direction. She got Sam too. I press my back against the wall and try not to collapse. Before I can think I run up the stairs and through the curvy halls of my once safe home, clutching the kitchen knife.
I run to our room and close the door, run backwards and trip over my bed. Ginger bursts through the door and lunges for me. I'm dead. That's it, I died, I'm dead. My hand sticks out, before I can think.
"I don't want to die…" I scream and dig the knife into her chest. She howls in agony and falls to the floor.
I sit and stare for a minute, breathing heavily. I look around, tears streaming down my face. I'm alone now. No more, together forever. I killed her. I killed my own sister. I walk over to her and lay on her chest. She's barely breathing, but she is breathing.
"Out by sixteen, or dead in this scene, but together forever." I can practically hear Ginger's voice. Bridgette Fitzgerald, out by 'fifteen', Ginger Fitzgerald, dead in this scene. Together? Yes. Forever? Unseen.
No! Together forever, I promised her! The tears fall more rapidly now. I walk to the dresser drawer and pull the knife from there. I walk back over to Ginger and lay my head on her chest again. I cry harder and lean the blade to my wrist.
"Wrists are for girls, I'm slitting my throat." The words echo in my mind. Wrists are for girls… throat it is. I hold the icy blade to my throat and swallow hard.
Footsteps come to the door. "Bridgette don't!" Sam's voice calls, as he rushes towards me, snatching my arm and the knife.
"Sam! Leave me alone! Together forever!"
"Bridgette you're crazy…" He says, pulling me from Ginger's monster corpse. I finally notice that he is drenched from head to toe with blood.
I start to cry hysterically into his shoulder. He makes an awkward move, like he doesn't know what to do when someone's upset.
"No one ever thinks chicks do shit like this. A girl can only be a slut, bitch, tease or the virgin next door." And a werewolf…
A/N: all for now! Please review!
