Okay so it's been like 3 weeks since I posted anything on here, this is a story I wrote awhile ago and yes it is quite cheesy and it's just a rough first copy, not very well written, needs to be rewritten but I'm too lazy right now. It originated from Emily and my texts back and forth some random joking around and out of it worked this little plot... I guess a tragic comedic romantic tale...thought about making it into a play, we'll see if that ever goes anywhere. =)
It is said, in a little town called Maradox, that after midnight the ghost of a young woman haunts the streets looking to avenge her death and that of her fiance. Personally, I know this is not true, her death has already been avenged. I know because the beautiful Francesca was my only true love and I hers.
Francesca and I had been secret lovers from childhood, but I was an orphan with no money and no name and she was the daughter of a gentleman.
She would sneak out to see me after midnight and we would sit until dawn, watching the stars and planning our future. We would run away together and be married and make a life for ourselves. We were oblivious to reality, happy in each other’s company, lost in the passion and innocence of of stolen kisses by moonlight, the gentle caress of her soft fingertips on my face, our heart beats blending until they were one rhythm.
But the sun set all too soon in our little paradise, when my little Francesca struck the fancy of the rich oaf Willy Brutus. Brutus was - for lack of better words - hideous! He was disgustingly over weight and he had the most grotesque eating habits of anyone I have ever observed. I swear he managed to get more food spilled onto his shirt front than humanly possible, grease and excess saliva dribbling from his pink puffy lips into his scraggly beard the shade of fire, and he greedily slurped the food from his stubby over sized fingers between bites, so as not to miss a morsel. He jokes too loudly and has a snorting laugh like a donkey. When he’s not talking he’s wheezing, and his voice is raspy and he gasps as he talks as if he is constantly out of breath.
But, money covers over a multitude of hideous imperfections - at least for Francesca’s family it did. My poor darling Francesca. When she told me she was engaged to Brutus, she could hardly stop crying long enough for me to understand. I held her in my arms, all my dreams of us like shattered glass - unfixable.
“Don’t cry my love, I’ll find a way to rescue you yet. I promise!” I felt like Romeo, a desperate lover who’s life was about to be snuffed out, what was life without love?
The wedding swiftly approached, the night before she was to be married we spent the hours before dawn together, one last time, plotting an elopement. I was to come for her at noon and ask her family for her. As a desperate final resort we would elope, but only if permission for our marriage was denied.
The wedding day arrived, not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, sun shining, birds singing joyfully. I almost had hope. The whole world was so hopeful, maybe things would turn out after all. I met Francesca in the garden that surrounded her family’s mansion at noon as planned, with an excited kiss and a final whispered 'I love you', my eager pace quickly swallowed the distance to the veranda. I looked back as I reached for the door, a distressed cry arresting my hand in mid-air.
The sight made me sick. Brutus was stooped over my love’s lifeless form, he kissed her roughly, then turned to leave, but not before our eyes met and I knew there would be trouble in it for me.
Recklessly, I flew back to Francesca’s motionless corpse and threw myself onto the ground next to her. I could see now what had happened, Brutus must have watched us in the garden and when I left came upon her, alone, hurling her down the stone steps where she gashed her temple on the corner of the last step. Blood pooled around her ashen face. I looked around desperately and caught sight of the terrified pixie face and blond ringlets of Lucy, Francesca’s young cousin.
“Lucy! Get help! Tell the family!” I pleaded.
“They won’t believe you sir! You better run. They’ll believe me better if I tell them that I saw Brutus do it.” her ruby lower lip trembled and her large blue eyes were glassy from tears. I nodded and ran, blinded by pain and loss.
I wandered for days unable to think or feel or do anything but grieve the loss of my lover. Finally I realized I had to pull myself together and I had to make Brutus pay, but first I would say goodbye to Francesca once more. I asked around and found out where her grave was.
Despite the dark, her grave was easy to find, a big blubbering Brutus was kneeling next to it,
“Fran, oh Fran, I’m sorry, I know it was awful wicked of me, I just-” He sounded strangled, and then I saw it, white, almost transparent fingers reaching for his throat, he tried to back away but the smoke like fingers caught his shirt collar and he leaned forwards as if the grip was choking him.
“Fran, I swear, I’d do anything to have you back - “ he choked, “I love - “ I snuck up behind him, rage blinding me and shoved him forwards into the grave that was still open. There was a thud, cracking and then a shriek.
“Not into my grave you idiot! Go bury him in a lake! Oh heavens I don’t care where, but not my grave!” followed by Brutus’s heavy body hurtled towards me. He landed, in an awkwardly bent position at my feet.
“Francesca?!” I whispered.
“Clark, take care of him, throw him in a river for all I care, but I refuse to let my grave be defiled by that man, whew I can breathe again, thought he’d squish the life outta me!”
“But you’re - “ I stuttered.
“I know, I’m already dead.” She finished for me with a laugh, “Squish the ghost life outta me! It’s midnight ya know, I come back from midnight until dawn to find you.” I felt suddenly very self conscious, I was talking to a ghost... or was I talking to myself? Was I going crazy?
“Show me you’re real.” I demanded. From the grave floated my beautiful Francesca. She was reminded me of smoke the way she was solid and yet transparent and invisible and yet very there. She was white. Lifeless and so vividly full of life all at once. We laughed and cried and hugged and she entwined cold thin fingers through mine and then we walked until dawn, soaking up the time together. This wasn’t the forever we had planned but all the same we had a forever of midnight to dawns together and no one could interfere.
I still walk with her every night. We watch the stars and talk about all the stuff that lovers talk about. To this day the death of Francesca and her fiance Brutus are still a mystery. Some have suspected me, some suspect that it was Brutus and he committed suicide after, some believe she took her own life, only Francesca, Brutus and I know the true account... oh and now you of course. And that is the story behind the ghost that haunts the streets of Maradox!
It is said, in a little town called Maradox, that after midnight the ghost of a young woman haunts the streets looking to avenge her death and that of her fiance. Personally, I know this is not true, her death has already been avenged. I know because the beautiful Francesca was my only true love and I hers.
Francesca and I had been secret lovers from childhood, but I was an orphan with no money and no name and she was the daughter of a gentleman.
She would sneak out to see me after midnight and we would sit until dawn, watching the stars and planning our future. We would run away together and be married and make a life for ourselves. We were oblivious to reality, happy in each other’s company, lost in the passion and innocence of of stolen kisses by moonlight, the gentle caress of her soft fingertips on my face, our heart beats blending until they were one rhythm.
But the sun set all too soon in our little paradise, when my little Francesca struck the fancy of the rich oaf Willy Brutus. Brutus was - for lack of better words - hideous! He was disgustingly over weight and he had the most grotesque eating habits of anyone I have ever observed. I swear he managed to get more food spilled onto his shirt front than humanly possible, grease and excess saliva dribbling from his pink puffy lips into his scraggly beard the shade of fire, and he greedily slurped the food from his stubby over sized fingers between bites, so as not to miss a morsel. He jokes too loudly and has a snorting laugh like a donkey. When he’s not talking he’s wheezing, and his voice is raspy and he gasps as he talks as if he is constantly out of breath.
But, money covers over a multitude of hideous imperfections - at least for Francesca’s family it did. My poor darling Francesca. When she told me she was engaged to Brutus, she could hardly stop crying long enough for me to understand. I held her in my arms, all my dreams of us like shattered glass - unfixable.
“Don’t cry my love, I’ll find a way to rescue you yet. I promise!” I felt like Romeo, a desperate lover who’s life was about to be snuffed out, what was life without love?
The wedding swiftly approached, the night before she was to be married we spent the hours before dawn together, one last time, plotting an elopement. I was to come for her at noon and ask her family for her. As a desperate final resort we would elope, but only if permission for our marriage was denied.
The wedding day arrived, not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, sun shining, birds singing joyfully. I almost had hope. The whole world was so hopeful, maybe things would turn out after all. I met Francesca in the garden that surrounded her family’s mansion at noon as planned, with an excited kiss and a final whispered 'I love you', my eager pace quickly swallowed the distance to the veranda. I looked back as I reached for the door, a distressed cry arresting my hand in mid-air.
The sight made me sick. Brutus was stooped over my love’s lifeless form, he kissed her roughly, then turned to leave, but not before our eyes met and I knew there would be trouble in it for me.
Recklessly, I flew back to Francesca’s motionless corpse and threw myself onto the ground next to her. I could see now what had happened, Brutus must have watched us in the garden and when I left came upon her, alone, hurling her down the stone steps where she gashed her temple on the corner of the last step. Blood pooled around her ashen face. I looked around desperately and caught sight of the terrified pixie face and blond ringlets of Lucy, Francesca’s young cousin.
“Lucy! Get help! Tell the family!” I pleaded.
“They won’t believe you sir! You better run. They’ll believe me better if I tell them that I saw Brutus do it.” her ruby lower lip trembled and her large blue eyes were glassy from tears. I nodded and ran, blinded by pain and loss.
I wandered for days unable to think or feel or do anything but grieve the loss of my lover. Finally I realized I had to pull myself together and I had to make Brutus pay, but first I would say goodbye to Francesca once more. I asked around and found out where her grave was.
Despite the dark, her grave was easy to find, a big blubbering Brutus was kneeling next to it,
“Fran, oh Fran, I’m sorry, I know it was awful wicked of me, I just-” He sounded strangled, and then I saw it, white, almost transparent fingers reaching for his throat, he tried to back away but the smoke like fingers caught his shirt collar and he leaned forwards as if the grip was choking him.
“Fran, I swear, I’d do anything to have you back - “ he choked, “I love - “ I snuck up behind him, rage blinding me and shoved him forwards into the grave that was still open. There was a thud, cracking and then a shriek.
“Not into my grave you idiot! Go bury him in a lake! Oh heavens I don’t care where, but not my grave!” followed by Brutus’s heavy body hurtled towards me. He landed, in an awkwardly bent position at my feet.
“Francesca?!” I whispered.
“Clark, take care of him, throw him in a river for all I care, but I refuse to let my grave be defiled by that man, whew I can breathe again, thought he’d squish the life outta me!”
“But you’re - “ I stuttered.
“I know, I’m already dead.” She finished for me with a laugh, “Squish the ghost life outta me! It’s midnight ya know, I come back from midnight until dawn to find you.” I felt suddenly very self conscious, I was talking to a ghost... or was I talking to myself? Was I going crazy?
“Show me you’re real.” I demanded. From the grave floated my beautiful Francesca. She was reminded me of smoke the way she was solid and yet transparent and invisible and yet very there. She was white. Lifeless and so vividly full of life all at once. We laughed and cried and hugged and she entwined cold thin fingers through mine and then we walked until dawn, soaking up the time together. This wasn’t the forever we had planned but all the same we had a forever of midnight to dawns together and no one could interfere.
I still walk with her every night. We watch the stars and talk about all the stuff that lovers talk about. To this day the death of Francesca and her fiance Brutus are still a mystery. Some have suspected me, some suspect that it was Brutus and he committed suicide after, some believe she took her own life, only Francesca, Brutus and I know the true account... oh and now you of course. And that is the story behind the ghost that haunts the streets of Maradox!
o my goodness that is so amazing! =) i love how you describe Brutus! wow great job dear!
ReplyDeleteThanks dearie! :)
Delete