The ghost of you

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Looking up from her typewriter, her orbs met yours. Moonlight tracing her skin, she has never been more beautiful.

"I'm back," You said, "Did you miss me?"

A pause. She stared blankly, before getting back to her novel again.

"I thought I told you to get out of my head." She replied– her face remaining unchanged.

"Too bad." You giggled softly, "I'm not inside your head."

"You died six years ago." Wednesday snapped, her lips turning into a scowl. You pursed your lips, your eyebrows knitted in a thin line.

"I'm back now." You tried, but was silenced by a glare. Your eyes averted, you drowned in a mix of guilt, pain, and everything else. Though those feelings screamed otherwise, you smiled bitterly, locking eyes with the raven haired girl.

"Stop trying to make me delusional." She growled.

"Deny all you want, Wednesday. I'm not dead." You chuckled, bringing yourself closer, leaning on the desk. "I'm living, can't you see?"

She didn't want to admit it. She wasn't going to admit it. She didn't want to go through all of it again– she didn't want to go through the heartbreak again.

She loved you, but the universe seemed to prefer the two of you apart.


"I saw that marking on the statue." You commented, peeking over, alarming the raven haired girl. "In the hallways? You know what statue I'm talking about, right? Uh, Edgar Allen?"

Wednesday took her moment to compose herself, before turning to look at you.

"Why are you still stuck in my head?" She said, shutting her book close. "I thought I had gotten rid of you."

"I'm not in your head." You whined, burying your face into your hands. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"No matter how many times you repeat that false statement, I will not believe it."

You sighed, before giving up. This girl can not be convinced, you realized.

"You could've just said a thank you." You raised your brows, huffing.

"I don't thank ghosts." She claimed, crossing her arms. She scanned your standing figure, before turning back to the stacks of books on the bookshelves. "Be thankful you have your feet. Most don't."

You gasped, seemingly offended by her remark. You clutched your chest dramatically, "I'm hurt, Wednesday Addams. You think I'm a ghost now."

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Because you are." She said, before grabbing her things to leave you alone in the library. You watched her growing smaller as the distance between you two enlarged, sighing.

It wasn't her fault. It was your fault– you and your stupid younger self.


"I never knew that ghosts party, too."

Your lips curved upwards at the familiar voice. "Hello to you too, Wednesday."

You felt the tilt of the couch from the girl's weight as she sat beside you. Faint music played in the background, making you hum to the melody. You leaned back sleepily, sinking in the chilly atmosphere.

"Why are you here?" You heard her say.

You lifted your head to scan the girl's form. Her hair was tied up, out of her usual braid. Her dress fit her perfectly– she was magnificent.

"Ghosts party too." You grinned, swaying your legs in the air. You could feel her glare, but decided not to bother.

"Who are you with?" You asked.

"Elaborate."

"Your partner. Who is it?"

The girl paused, as if hesitant to give an answer. "Tyler."

"Ah, the weathervane boy." You giggled, tucking your hair behind your ears. "Do you like him?"

"No." Wednesday said swiftly, too fast for her liking. "No. I don't."

You hummed in reply, wrapping your arm around yourself. You sighed– you were tired. You were tired and wanted to sleep more than anything else. Being in this party sucked all your energy.

"I recommend not to. He has a bad vibe." You muttered, before drifting off to sleep. It probably isn't the best choice to fall asleep here, but you didn't really care about anything at this point.

It'll work out, you figured.

"What if Xavier isn't the murderer?"

Wednesday glanced at you– lying down on her bed, facing the ceiling as you played with your sleeves.

"He is." She replied simply, dusting her leather jacket, grabbing her flashlight from her desk.

"He might not be." You said, "Always think of the variables."

"If he's not the killer, we'll have to do it over." She said, "Find out who's behind all this."

She stared at herself in the mirror, before her eyes flickered back to you.

"Hopefully we get it right."


"--but at least I'll get to kill you, Wednesday."

You watched in horror as the scene emerged before your eyes. With Thornhill's gun pointed to the raven haired girl's head, you felt yourself freeze, panic washing over you.

Run, your mind screamed, run and save her.

But your feet stayed planted on the ground. You couldn't do anything– you couldn't do anything.

Bang of the gun rang through the school.

Are you really going to let it happen again?

Your feet moved on their own. You tackled the girl out of the way, a piercing pain following.

The excruciating pain made it hard to breathe. Were you even breathing? You couldn't tell. Blood stained your uniform, the red blooming from your collarbone– slowly reaching out. You heard muffled gasps and screams, though it was hard to form words due to your extreme pain.

Then you saw Wednesday– her eyes wide and round, shaking your shoulders, desperate to keep you awake. Her mouth was moving– what was she saying?

Then you saw it.

I love you.

You felt the stinging of the tears threatening to come out. It didn't take long for it to drop.

Familiar feelings of guilt stabbed you in your heart. I'm sorry, you wanted to say.

I'm sorry for making you go through it again.

You closed your eyes, letting darkness take over.

Maybe in the next life, you can be happy together.

Maybe in the next life, the universe would let the two of you be.

Oh, how you hoped it would be true.

-

don't we hate angst.. :)

𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲: 𝗪.𝗔. ✔️Where stories live. Discover now