Status: Complete.
Ghost of You
51 : Idiot
“Idiot!”
The pillow smacked me as I gasped for air, struggling to pull myself above the covers. My legs were sore and my side felt as if someone had cut it open with a knife.
“Bill!” I cried, throwing my hands over my face as the pillow struck again.
“You could've been killed!” Bill hissed. He pushed himself off of the bed and stood in the middle of the room, trembling as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Take me back,” I said, the covers tripping me as I tried to follow him.
“What?!” he snarled, turning back to stare at me, glare cold.
“You... you heard me,” I said, my voice caught in my throat. “Take me back. I can figure this out, Bill!”
If looks could kill, I'd be dead.
“I don't understand,” I said, my voice low after about a minute of agonizing silence, “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “was to try and protect you, for you to protect yourself. God, do you know how dumb you can be sometimes?!”
“That's not fair!”
“Life's not fair!”
“I know it's not, because it took you from me!” I fought back tears. “Don't you get it? If I got you a ghost heart, it'd be like you weren't dead.”
Bill sighed. “It's not that easy,” he said as he shook his head. “Tom, you'd have to give up your own heart.”
“But we could be a family again!”
“But you belong here,” he said softly, gesturing to the bedroom. “You belong in the human world with the people that love you.”
“You're my brother, you're supposed to love me!”
“And I do, but I can't put a house over your head, or give you food, or clothes. Not like the Listings can.” His face looked tired.
“I just want us to be like brothers again,” I said as tears began down my cheeks. “We're twins! One half isn't the same without the other.”
“You know I love you.”
“Bill,” I sobbed. I felt a gush of air on my cheek, and pressed my fingers flat against it. Bill pulled his lips away. “Don't leave,” I said as I watched him disappear in a puff of black smoke.
I heard feet climbing the stairs and quickly wiped my tears on my wrist, letting out a sob followed by a sniffle.
“Tom?” Mr. Listing said, flipping on the light. Pale light from the sun streamed in through the door from the hall.
“Yeah?” I asked through a hiccup, wiping my eyes again.
He walked over to the bed. “Come sit down.”
I felt his strong hands wrap around my shoulders, gripping them tightly. I tried to fight him off. “Tom,” he said sternly, yanking me back. “Sit.”
I let my butt fall onto the edge of the bed as Mr. Listing held me. Had he overheard me talking to Bill? Was he sending me to the mental institution? The room seemed to spin.
“Tom, listen to me,” he said, his voice fading. “Gordon is dead.”
The pillow smacked me as I gasped for air, struggling to pull myself above the covers. My legs were sore and my side felt as if someone had cut it open with a knife.
“Bill!” I cried, throwing my hands over my face as the pillow struck again.
“You could've been killed!” Bill hissed. He pushed himself off of the bed and stood in the middle of the room, trembling as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Take me back,” I said, the covers tripping me as I tried to follow him.
“What?!” he snarled, turning back to stare at me, glare cold.
“You... you heard me,” I said, my voice caught in my throat. “Take me back. I can figure this out, Bill!”
If looks could kill, I'd be dead.
“I don't understand,” I said, my voice low after about a minute of agonizing silence, “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “was to try and protect you, for you to protect yourself. God, do you know how dumb you can be sometimes?!”
“That's not fair!”
“Life's not fair!”
“I know it's not, because it took you from me!” I fought back tears. “Don't you get it? If I got you a ghost heart, it'd be like you weren't dead.”
Bill sighed. “It's not that easy,” he said as he shook his head. “Tom, you'd have to give up your own heart.”
“But we could be a family again!”
“But you belong here,” he said softly, gesturing to the bedroom. “You belong in the human world with the people that love you.”
“You're my brother, you're supposed to love me!”
“And I do, but I can't put a house over your head, or give you food, or clothes. Not like the Listings can.” His face looked tired.
“I just want us to be like brothers again,” I said as tears began down my cheeks. “We're twins! One half isn't the same without the other.”
“You know I love you.”
“Bill,” I sobbed. I felt a gush of air on my cheek, and pressed my fingers flat against it. Bill pulled his lips away. “Don't leave,” I said as I watched him disappear in a puff of black smoke.
I heard feet climbing the stairs and quickly wiped my tears on my wrist, letting out a sob followed by a sniffle.
“Tom?” Mr. Listing said, flipping on the light. Pale light from the sun streamed in through the door from the hall.
“Yeah?” I asked through a hiccup, wiping my eyes again.
He walked over to the bed. “Come sit down.”
I felt his strong hands wrap around my shoulders, gripping them tightly. I tried to fight him off. “Tom,” he said sternly, yanking me back. “Sit.”
I let my butt fall onto the edge of the bed as Mr. Listing held me. Had he overheard me talking to Bill? Was he sending me to the mental institution? The room seemed to spin.
“Tom, listen to me,” he said, his voice fading. “Gordon is dead.”