A/N: Aaaah the review and follows make my little heart sing. I feel so special when that happens. ^~^ So here is a new chapter dearies, I apologies for shortness, and promise I will make the next one longer! Hope you enjoy it and I hope you decide to review! I really want to hear about what you think of Florence and such. Onward with the story!
Also, need to know if you guys want a Jack/oc romance or no pairing or oc/oc.
KikaKatTIOI: I can't even begin to say how excited I was when I read your review! I just finished with your RotG story about Jack and omg. I know what you mean; it's literally one of my biggest pet-peeves when they do that with their oc. Thank you so much! I'll be hopefully *fingers crossed* updating this story every few days, if not every day. :)
Chapter 2: A Prayer and a Tug
Pure hope and excitement filled her silver eyes as a smile widely stretched on her lips. She shakily let out a sigh and stepped forward to the raggedy eight year old in front of her, who was staring wide-eyed and turned almost s pale as she now was. Her hand reached out for him, only for him to jerk back as if she were fire. The excitement faded, but the hope never wavered as it only showed her he could still see her. He shook his head rapidly as she continued with her stride, hand still outstretched.
"Arthur," She began tentatively, "Please tell me you can see me- say something?"
"I-I can," He told her shakily and quietly, "H-how can I see you F-F-Florence? You're d-dead."
Tears and fear welled in his brown eyes, and she dropped her hand. "I don't know Arthur, I really don't."
Florence's own eyes filled with tears and the weight of his words sunk in as she pathetically replied. How could a day have gone by, more importantly how could everyone think she was dead.
He smiled slightly when he heard the Irish accent, but it dimmed. "You should be dead Florence, everyone saw how you fell off stage- god I'll never forget how your neck looked."
"Oh Arthur," She said, moving fast to wrap and arm around the younger boy's shoulders. "I'm so sorry you had to see that. But, everything is okay now- we can tell my Mam and Tabitha-"
"Wait!" Arthur cut in, pushing her back, "Florence, your mum left this morning, left with some choice parting words-more like screams- and off she went. Tabitha was so grief-stricken and shouting and actin crazy so her mum is sending her to Bethlem."
"Bethlem? What's that?" She questioned, drawing back from him as she thought about her mam, 'How could she leave, doesn't she know I'm not dead.' She voiced her thought to Arthur.
"It's an insane asylum Florence," he told her gently, her northern accent thickening. "As for your mum, she knows your dead Florence, we all know because she took your body with her in the carriage. Heading back to Ireland, by what I heard from her grieving."
"How could her mam send her there!? Tabitha's not crazy!" She cried, "And I'm not dead! I'm not dead!"
"Florence calm down, Tabitha is crazy; you didn't see her clawing at her feet after you were announced dead, it was like the devil entered her body." He spoke loudly and fast. "You are dead Florence, stay away from me. I don't know why you're haunting me, but stay back! I'm heading to Father Clern, he'll get rid of you and you can go to Heaven alright?"
She grew silent, trying to process everything. She couldn't bring herself to picture Tabitha clawing off her own skin around her feet-
'Her feet! She was wearing my shoes. She blamed herself for my death.' She thought to herself.
"Hey! Boy, who're you talking to?" A portly man in a suit shouted over to Arthur. "All them yelling, they're gonna think you're as crazy as that girl going to the Asylum today."
"No one, just trying to sell some papers!" Arthur called back, turning away from Florence. "How did you know she was going today?"
"Ah, I'm her mum's chef." He told both of them, though he didn't see Florence. "Well, I've got to go, good luck mate."
"You too," He returned, before addressing Florence, "Come along now."
He threw the newspaper stack in his hands to the ground and grasped Florence and dragged her down the sidewalk. Her tight clad feet stumbled before moving faster as she turned to ask him.
"Where are we going?" Her question caused him to look at her incredulously.
"Are you series?" He chuffed. "You're dead and haunting me, I'm getting you to the other side."
She left out a huff in annoyance, "Listen Arthur, I'm not dead. This is not what death feels like!"
"You do feel alive to me." He admitted in hesitance, "But, why would you look so different. Answer, you're an angel."
She shrieked loudly, startling him. "I'm not dead!"
"Yeah, yeah, look the church is- ah!" He yelled out as Florence abruptly yanked her hand out of his grasp and ran towards the performance hall.
"Florence! Florence get back here!" He yelled out, causing people to stare and her to continue running. "I'm just- my friend – she was just- uh newspaper."
"I'm sorry Arthur!" She called back over her shoulder.
Her tulle shawl moved down, causing her to hastily grasp it in each fist. As she ran faster she felt a breeze suddenly burst towards her. The breeze was so strong and she felt it push the fabric that looped behind her up into the air, almost like a parachute. The gust seemed to get more powerful, and only on Florence.
"Ah!" She gasped out as the long tulle lifted her up in an arc above her head as she grew higher with the breeze.
The breeze only pushed on her and carried her up above the houses and streets of London. She could see the performance hall, her little apartment, even Arthur staring up at her awestruck. She strained her ears as she saw his mouth move. The wind seemingly knowing what she wanted to do as it lowered a bit.
"I knew you would make it to Heaven! Live on Florence!" Arthur shouted up gleefully, waving goodbye to her, ignoring all the people who stared at him.
She couldn't help but laugh to him, letting him believe what he wanted. A smile continued to stay on her lips as the wind flew her through the sky, for what felt like hours. The night sky was above her head in what felt like reaching distance. Her hands were still extended as she flew with her white tulle parachute of sorts. Joyous and disbelieving laughter would escape her mouth every now and then, as she tipped her head back and looked at the stars above her head, twinkling and shining bright against their backdrop of a deep blue. She looked back down when the sun started to peak and the sky became pink and red with the early morning.
Bellow her feet was a park, still empty due to the early morning, and she decided to land. A metal swing set and next to it was a tall metal pole with several ropes attached to the top of it hanging limply and moving in the wind every now and then.
Florence looked down at it with a small serene smile, opening her mouth hesitantly. "Um, I would like to go down there?"
Her mouth flew open widely as the wind suddenly, and very roughly, pushed against her and moved her towards the ground of the playground at a fast pace.
"Aaaaaaah!" She creamed out as she ungracefully tumbled to the ground, rolling and flipping until she slowed to a stop, in a mid Somersault position.
Neck bent awkwardly pressed into the grass and legs above her head and bent. She couldn't help but laugh and roll to the side and out of the position. A few feet away her tulle was lying on the ground, still a bright white and bunched up, though it didn't crinkle like she expected.
'Wouldn't surprise me if it was magic as well, after all this all seems magic.' She contemplated to herself, smiling at the fabric that seemed to glow like dew on a flower.
She didn't know exactly what was happening, her mind was still a bit fuzzy and her heart in pain, but she pushed past the feeling as she felt something inside her pull her to the park- as if she was needed. After she got off the ground and she picked up the shawl and threw it up in the air with a running start and yell of joy and practiced her flying, never straying from around the playground, just around the perimeter. She lazily floated with bent elbows and glided with the natural breeze, watching as the sky formed a bright gray as the clouds floated over and as young children and adults wandered over to the park. She felt the tugging again, much more persistent and almost as if it pulled on her whole body. She giggled slightly and moved to follow the invisible pull. It brought her towards a girl no older than her, sitting on a metal bench with and Florence could see a man, older than them, walking towards her-rose in hand. She felt the tug pulling at her body much more urgently and the words came out before she even realized.
"Get up now and walk away, go he isn't the right one. You know it too, just decline and leave." Her voice softly spoke, the words just seeming right as Florence stared at the girl- watching as she crinkled her brow before standing up.
The girl still looked unsure, and Florence held her breath waiting in anticipation, the girl approached him and he took her hand. A beat later, all she could see was the shaking of blonde hair and feet running off, much to the bewilderment of the man. Florence felt the tugging stop and looked down at her body in wonderment, feeling a smile stretch on her lips. The moment of peace didn't last as she felt the tugging once more, feeling distant, and she squeezed her palms around the fabric smiling up at the sky in determination.
"Alright breeze, let's do this."