| Ghost of a Chance, Part One This story is a little plot I'd always daydream about from time to time. I hope you enjoy it. ^.^ Send any thoughts or comments about it to [email protected]~ It was a cool and quiet autumn evening, the wind causing the tall plants to gently sway under overcast clouds. Although this area was a graveyard, it was so serene and there were so few graves that one could easily forget that it wasn't a garden path. Very little happened here, the only noise for miles the slight crunching of long-dead flowers being moved by the breeze. A little girl of no more than eight was walking on the path to this place, clutched in her scratched-up hands the prize she had spent most of her afternoon seeking: a single blue rose. She simply adored the flower, one could tell from how she'd check if it was still in her hand even though her fingers were clutched tightly around it.
She was diminutive even for a little girl, shoulder-length black hair gracing her features and framing an adorable face holding crimson eyes and a lovely smile. She would walk through the graveyard at a slow pace, not seeing the one large grave and few scattered small graves ahead of her. "Chrissie!" A distant voice suddenly called out from the gloom, and the girl looked up to hear where it was coming from. "Chrissie, time to come home!" She could tell it was her mother, and she began to run quickly while clutching the rose to her chest. In her haste she didn't look where she was going, and it wasn't long before a cluster of roots from a nearby tree sent her sailing into the ground. She wasn't too hurt, but she noted with a look of fear that she'd landed right in front of the large grave.
It wasn't so much the grave; it was more the fact that she'd landed directly on the flowers that had been left in offering. Brown and decaying, the tulips were now in shreds beneath her and she looked quite upset. She stood and brushed the petals off of her burgundy dress, looking at the inscription on the large marvel headstone. "Here lies Beatrice Mendeleev, 1991-1998" She noted with a bit of sadness that she had been young when she died, that much she could tell. She looked at her rose, then at the grave and looked down. She knelt and gently placed the rose before the headstone, bowing respectfully before her mother's next call roused her from her silence. She looked back once before running after her mother's call. The wind seemed to pick up for several hours after that, and when Chrissie was out of sight a pale girl with long, white locks and sad blue eyes picked up the rose with a slight smile. "What an awfully nice little gift..." She tucked the rose behind her ear and sat down before the gravestone, reading her headstone over again... --------------------------------- Chrissie had nothing but scratched up hands to present to her mother that evening. Despite her mother's promise of no pain, she simply could not sit still when the wounds were cleaned with peroxide and muttered bitterly about her mother's lie. She missed her blue rose already but hoped that the girl from the grave could perhaps see the present from heaven. Thoughts about it kept her awake, tossing and turning. "I wonder if she likes it..." She decided she would find out, and without a sound she slipped on a winter coat and grabbed a flashlight. She was careful to be quiet when closing the door behind her, a skill she'd learned well during the summer when she'd sneak out often. The flashlight cut a clear beam through the gloom of the night, giving her a line to follow as she walked into the graveyard. She walked to the grave, which seemed to sparkle from the light reflecting off of its dazzling surface. She was surprised to see no rose, and even more so when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you the one who left this pretty flower?~" The voice was light as a feather and pretty, and when Chrissie turned around she saw the sight of the pale girl. She trembled as she nodded, and the pale girl smiled widely. "That was nice of you, my name is Beatrice, what's yours?" "C-c-chrissie... A-are you a ghost?" Beatrice chuckled slightly and nodded gently, her hand moving from the girl's shoulder down her arm until their hands were together. "Yes, but it's you who haunts me..." Chrissie looked confused, tilting her head and watching the ghost's face. "You're so pretty, and every day you're so close and yet so far away..." Hearing this brought color to Chrissie's cheeks, she wasn't used to compliments of that nature. The hand that held hers was so warm, the thought didn't even cross Chrissie's mind to let go of it. Rather she held it just a bit tighter, her cheeks still a light pink as she watched the ghost. "I can't belive someone so beautiful took the time to leave a flower at my grave, it's been so long..." This caused the blush crawling Chrissie's cheeks to darken. "H-how long have you been watching?" She asked this in a shaky tone, taking this in with difficulty. "At least a couple of years... The chance to talk to you alone is just so special..." The ghost would have gone on, but she cut off mid-sentence with a happy sound as she felt Chrissie's other hand search out and take her other hand. "W-will you tell me what happened? H-how you got to be..." She didn't seem to want to say it, but Beatrice just laughed. "Dead?" She offered helpfully, and Chrissie simply nodded. "You want to hear?" After getting a positive response, she let go of Chrissie's hands, beckoning for her to sit on the ground after she did so herself. The ghost scooted close to Chrissie, their hands finding their way together again. It was mysterious to Chrissie, she didn't expect there'd be anything to hold after all she'd heard of ghosts. "Well, it all began simply enough..." |