AHS Fan-Fic

Yeah, I did it. I wrote an American Horror Story fan-fic. I had to! And well, as all the fan-fics I've ever written, it's not conventional; probably not what you expected and... I don't know. Just read it (:



JINX ME SOMETHING CRAZY
                                                                                                                                                                          
Chapter 1: “I Am All This Now”
                                                                                                                                                                          

“It does get better” She told me with half a smile. “I promise”.


I rested the axe on my left shoulder and stood facing the front door. I’ve been meaning to get into this house for so long… my legs were shivering in excitement. Or maybe was the fact that I actually ran fifteen blocks to get there. I did not have a lot of time, but I’d make it last. I was about to take the first step when the most annoying voice in the world interrupted me.

“Celeste! What are you doing here?!” My therapist had finally found me.

“What is… going on here?” An old fancy lady came out the house next door, whisking something in a bowl. 

She had the strongest southern accent I’ve ever heard.

I looked at the lady lowering the axe. She held my glance keeping on whisking whatever she was whisking. No one’s ever done that before. I mean the staring.

“Celeste… please, Celeste, put the axe down. Celeste?” My therapist said reaching her arms towards me as if I ever meant to hurt somebody.

“I know what my name is! Stop wearing it out!” I yelled at my therapist dropping the axe on the floor and starting walking down the street, back to her office. Fifteen blocks back to her office.

When we arrived at my therapist’s office, I sat on the shrinking couch she had. I used to call her ‘my shrink’ when I was a kid, but my mother made me stop, and obligated me to call her ‘my therapist’. So, there we were.

Why did you do that, Celeste? Why you ran off?” I hated her overconfident voice so much. I just wish she had a mute button somewhere.

“I am not a bad person, am I?” I said talking all slowly, ‘cause I knew she hated that.

All shrinks hate when patients talk slowly or keep silent. Don’t really know why, and don’t know if I even care. I think it gives the patient some sort of power over the shrink. Maybe.

“I have never hurt someone before, have I?”

Alright, my ‘therapist’ in particular hated when I talked fully worded and ended every sentence with a question mark. I figured that out in three short sessions. Am I good or what?

“Why does my mother send me here? Does she hate me, Dr. Stevens? Does she?” I just couldn’t use the silent trick, it wasn’t my thing.

My therapist looked at me long and hard. What was she thinking about? Don’t know. Probably that she wouldn’t get laid tonight because deep down she knew her husband was banging the nanny, and was completely satisfied by her.

“Look at the time, Celeste!” She said falsely surprised. “You’ve spent most of your session running away from me. See you next week, Celeste”, she stood up and showed me the way out, which, I already knew.

“Clever” I told her as I walked out the door. I hated when she spoke my name a lot.

You might be wondering why I don’t go to where I wanted to go right now. Well, you see, I would’ve, pleasantly. But my mother was in my dad’s car, behind the wheel, with the passenger seat open, and the engine running. Life’s a bitch.
                                                                                                                                                                          
Chapter 2: “Ghost Man On Third”
                                                                                                                                                                          
“Yay! I get front seat today? What’s the special occasion?” I pretended to care, as I closed the passenger’s door and my mother started burning some rubber.

“The back door got jammed” Right. I should’ve known.

My mother didn’t speak to me much. Mostly because she believed that I should’ve been institutionalized but my dad fought her and convinced the monster that I could be just fine with some therapy. Well, therapy didn’t actually get me very far, but I stopped imagining my classmates bloody and lying cold on the floor after a few years with the amazing Dr. Stevens.

Not talking to my mother was actually a relief for me, and made the drive home a whole lot better since I loved watching out the car’s window how everything seems to move faster as we pass by. The wind also made me feel good. It was nice. Wind is nice.

I dreamt about the house that night. And at school that was all I could think about. That house. That house and that guy looking at me from the upper window.

“Miss D’Angelo?” I heard the voice of my English teacher as if he was twenty miles away. “Celeste!” He shook my shoulder awakening me from my daydream. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. Sorry… I got distracted” He smiled at me and I smiled back as he took over the class again.

Mr. Goodman was the only teacher who wasn’t afraid of me. Of course they all knew about… ‘my condition’, as my mother called it. But he still treated me like a normal person. He was my favorite teacher; and English was the only class I felt I belonged to.

I still remember as if it was yesterday when I was eleven years old, and Mr. Goodman made us write a fictional story as an assignment. That was the very first time I put in paper what I’ve always pictured happening to my classmates. That was also the very first time my parents decided to send me to a psychoanalyst. As every teacher in that godforsaken school started to walk away from me, Mister Goodman stood close. And the last day of that school year, he came up to me and told me: “as long as you can keep it on the paper, you’ll be fine. You’ve got a talent. Writing. You should explore that. I hope to see you in my class next year.” And there I was the next year; and the year after that. He taught all English subjects. And his classes were amazing.

I suppressed the dream in the back of my mind for a while until Mr. Goodman’s class finished. But after that it took control over me again. I just couldn’t stop thinking about those charcoal eyes, looking at me with that expression of loneliness and longing. I wanted to, no. I needed to know what he was craving so hard. And what was he doing in that house; that house that had been abandoned for over sixteen years.

I had to get there. I had to talk to him. So, I decided I would escape from home and take a bike ride to the house. That night was the night.

I excused myself after dinner saying that I had a handful of homework due next week and went to my room. I grabbed the baseball bat jumped out of my window –you can’t be too careful these days. I took my bike and ride it to the house.

I got there as the night begun to fall and there he was… as if he had been waiting for me, sitting on the front door steps.

“Who are you? What’s your name?” I asked without getting off my bike.

“I’m Tate” He answered standing up. “I think that pretty much clears up both your questions”, he stuck his hands into his pants pockets. “May I ask who are you?” He raised both this blond eyebrows and as he started getting closer to me I tighten the grasp of my bat.

“I’m… I’m Celeste” I mumbled.

I have never felt that nervous before. And my therapist said psychopaths cannot feel fear; so, I didn’t really know what was happening to me, but I couldn’t move.

“Another color name… what’s wrong with people in this town?” He said more to himself than to me.

He kept walking to me until he reached the end of the front lawn. He didn’t get any further than that. I frowned.

“What’s up with you? You can’t get out of the house?” I joked, but he remained serious.

“No.” He simply answered.

I started laughing but when he didn’t I realize something was up.

“You really can’t get out of the house?” I asked, curiously.

“It’s complicated” He said.

I was going to reply to that non-at-all-answering answer, but a light shone in an upper room of the next door house, and I got distracted.

“You should leave” Tate said.

I looked back at him confused; then back at the window where the light suddenly turned on. A black shape appeared. A shadow; it seemed to be looking at us.

“You should leave! Now!” Tate yelled taking me off my absorption.

“Why?!” I yelled back at him.

“Just go away…” He stated walking back into the house.

So I left. But I was coming back soon. I still needed to know what was up with that kid… with… Tate. What he wanted, and now: why he couldn’t leave the house.

As I ride my bike back home, these questions started wondering the corners of my twisted little mind. Thinking about how in Hell was I supposed to get the answers. Or why I even wanted them. But one thing I knew for sure, when I entered my bedroom it was decided: I would come back to that house the next day after school.
                                                                                                                                                                          
Chapter 3: “In Time”
                                                                                                                                                                          
As you might have well guessed, my mother came to pick me up every day from school. But I thought that maybe if I cut class before the last period I’d get some time before she figure out where I was. I really wanted to go to the house and get some answers.

It felt like the longest school day ever. The classes were eternal. The teachers were talking too freaking slow. And the clock needle didn’t seem to be moving at all.

During the last period recess, I gathered a few things and walked out the school. To my surprise, my vicious mother was there: leaning against the car as if she was waiting for me to do what I was about to. I cannot catch a breath with that monster.

“Planning on going on a field-trip?” She asked with that arrogant smile on her face.

“I was just going home” I lied. “I’m not feeling quite well” I lied a little bit more grabbing my stomach as if it hurt.

“Then let’s go home…” She said opening the back door for me and walking to her side of the car.

“You fixed the door” I said entering the car.

“Cross enough is to have you as a daughter.”

Her words couldn’t hurt me. They never did. Probably ‘cause I’m a psychopath. Or maybe because I simply don’t give a shit about what she thinks.

For the next couple of days I tried to make some time to go to the house, but something else always came up, or I got busted trying to leave the house or school earlier.

A little bit of hope rose, nonetheless, from my hideous therapy session. The meeting was at six o’clock, as usual, and school finished at three. So, my mother would pick me up from school, take me home, then to Dr. Stevens’ house, and finally back at home. But that day was different; because that day my mother couldn’t pick me up from school.

She made me promise, however, that I’d stay at the library from three to six, which I promise. Not that I’d actually keep the promise, but if it made her happy…

When school ended I walked as fast as I could to the house. I got there at around half past three. I stepped into the front lawn and waited for him to appear. Something inside of me told me that I should just wait for him, that I shouldn’t just go inside the house.

“You came back…” Tate’s voice said as he appeared from the side of the house.

“Surprised?” The nervousness was back. I had to control that shit.

“A bit. A bit…” Tate came up to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me to follow him. “Come on. Let me take you inside… it’s safer there.” He said taking a look around as to make sure no one was watching.

We walked into the abandoned house. I thought it’d be all destroyed on the inside but au contraire: it was like time didn’t even pass. The inside of the house was immaculate. Every piece of furniture was in the same exact place the Harmons had it. I had studied that family case for years trying to figure out where the daughter was, though I always thought she died inside the house and no one ever knew. Back to the house: it was spotless, too.

“What is with you and this house? I’ve seen you around a few times now” Tate said as he leaded me up the stairs, my hand still in his.

“I don’t know. It attracts me somehow...” I answered, starting to wonder where the Hell we were going, so I asked: “Where the Hell are we going?”

He looked at me smirking and kept on walking ‘til we hit a closed door on the first floor. He opened the door and walked me in. it was a bedroom.

“It’s Violet’s bedroom…” I said in a weak whisper.

I only found one picture of Violet’s room. One single picture and I always thought she should’ve been so cool.

“It used to be my bedroom before…” Tate said letting go of my hand and sitting on a side of the bed.

I walked to the other side of the bed and sat too.

“What is so appealing about this house?” Tate asked looking at the ceiling.

‘Besides you?’ I thought. “I’m trying to figure that out yet…” I said. “I have the feeling you can help me with that...” I suggested.

“Me?” He laughed. “I’ve been stuck in this house since 1994! I’m not much of a-”

“I can’t believe you brought her in” A girl’s voice interrupted him.

Tate stared at the door; tears accumulating in his eyes. I didn’t understand what was going on at all, but I kinda liked it. I mean, it was after all, my kind of crazy.

“Oh, my God! You’re Violet Harmon!” I exclaimed.

“You know who I am?” She asked surprised as she stepped into the room.

“Violet…” Tate barely mumbled.

“Do not talk to me” She cut him off.

“Yes! I’ve read about you and your family on the newspaper and the internet. You were huge news here and a brand new addition to ‘The Darkness Tour’ speech” I told her.

“We’ve been on the newspapers?” Violet licked her lips and smiled widely.

As fascinated as I was about Violet’s reaction to her own family’s fame, I couldn’t stop thinking about what was going on in Tate’s mind. He was looking at Violet as if he was watching her for the very first time and was blinded by her beauty. That’s not something you usually see in a teenage boy.

“What year are we? Now, I mean…” Violet asked.

“2028.” I answered.

“I’ve been in here for seventeen fucking years!” Violet screamed. “It felt like a freaking week!” She walked to the bed and sat on it too.

A tear rolled down Tate’s cheek when Violet sat on my side of the bed. He kept looking at her with that look… he wasn’t even blinking. Suddenly I remembered I had to be somewhere by six o’clock. If I was a minute later I would get chained to the bed in my room and never allowed to see the sunlight again. I took out my cell phone and watch the hour. It was more than half past five; if I ran real fast I might make it five to six… which was good, since I’d need to catch my breath after such a run.

“I’ve got to get going.” I said standing up.

“Are you coming back?” Violet asked me standing up alongside with me.

“If you want me to…” I answered a little bit surprised since she didn’t seem very happy to see me there in the first place.

“Please. I need some contact with the real life out there. I’m going crazy in here. Alone.” She took a quick look at Tate, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of her the whole time, and still was crying.

“Alright. I can’t promise you anything soon… but I’ll come back whenever I can.”

I left the house with a feeling that I had made two friends. Friends that for once felt real. Like they’d understand and wouldn’t be afraid of being around me. Friends that would take the time to get to know me better.

I arrived just in time for my session. But nobody suspected anything about my whereabouts. And, as usual, with Dr. Stevens I played psychopath and she played therapist; so everything went just like always. My mother was expecting me at the end of my session, as always.

But that night I went to sleep trying to figure out a plan to escape home and go visit Murder House and my new friends.
                                                                                                                                                                          
Chapter 4: “Overprotected”
                                                                                                                                                                          

“Celeste. Celeste?” The voice of my therapist sounded like a distant echo as I was distracted thinking about the house, looking out the window.

It had been a couple of weeks since I first saw Violet in the house. I hadn’t been able to go back because of my crazy overprotective –towards the rest of the world- mother. But I’d sneak out that same night to pay a visit to my friends and see if I could find out a little more about their stories. I was wondering where I knew Tate from, ‘cause I was completely certain that I had seen his face before somewhere.

“I’ve been treating you for years; you’ve never done something like this before...” She stated. I wasn’t paying any attention to what she was saying, really, but I couldn’t help to hear the annoying voice. “I’m worried”

Those words brought me back to life. Worried? Her? About me? Nonsense!

“I met someone” I told her setting my eyes back at her.

“Oh!” She simply exclaimed. “Is he from your school?” She tried.

“No.” I answered.

I wasn’t about to lie to her; I just didn’t care if she knew, ‘cause even if she did, she wouldn’t believe it. So, it didn’t make much sense to make up a story on the go, though that would’ve been real fun.

“You think you can keep yourself from hurting him?” She asked very professionally, looking at me through her thick glasses without which she couldn’t see shit.

I wasn’t gonna answer that question. I realized our session was almost over, just a minute or two for the hour, so I pretended to take my time to answer her terrible question, as if I had to really think it through. After a minute or so was up, she checked her watch and I opened my mouth as if I was about to answer her question but she interrupted me. Lucky me.

“I’m sorry, Celeste, but our time is up and I’ve got to be somewhere so… see you next week.” She finished our session.

I acted normal at home. Well, as normal as it had always been. My daddy had gone on a business trip so it was just me and my monster mother. Those days were the days of my freedom. It was my time to sneak out every night and head to the house. I couldn’t do it while my dad was in town because he bothered himself by checking on me several times during the night; just to be sure I was still lying asleep in my bed.

That particular night I decided to walk. It was a starry night and I wanted to enjoy it the way I couldn’t when I was riding my bike.

“Hey there, kitten!” A young man’s voice said.

I turned around to look at him as I passed by the door of the house next door to Murder House, where the old lady had came from the day I escaped from therapy.

He was tall and thin, but still he looked athletic. His face was long but there was still a glimpse of a child. He had golden blond messy hair covering his forehead and the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen; I mean they were really blue, not like mine. Mine looked almost white.

“Who are you?” I asked stopping and fully facing him as he walked towards me. He really reminded me of somebody else.

“My guardian calls me Michael” He smiled charmingly. “How do they call you?”

“I don’t know about ‘them’, but I’m usually called Celeste.” Our conversation wasn’t really going anywhere, but he caught my attention.

“What you like to do for fun, Celeste?” He asked tucking some of my black jet hair behind my ear.

He reminded me of someone so much. I was about to answer him when somebody else spoke.

“Stay away from her.” Tate appeared on the other side of the fence, standing on the front lawn of Murder House.

“What you gonna do from there?” Michael asked, smirking at Tate, who didn’t answer. He didn’t even change the look on his slightly angry face.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll leave.” Michael said raising his arms and starting to walk away from me. “But you can’t protect her forever…” He added pointing at Tate as he turned around to face the old lady’s house. “… You know you can’t” He said lowering his voice, but I got to hear him.

“What was that all about?” I asked Tate as we entered Murder House.

“I don’t wanna see you talking to him again, ok?” Tate told me in a very protective way.

“I’m not taking orders from you!” I laughed at him.

“What orders?” Violet asked appearing outta nowhere. “How much time passed since you’ve been here last?” She asked then.

“Two weeks.” I told her. “He doesn’t wanna let me talk to a guy called Michael who apparently lives next door.” I said still laughing at the situation.

“Am I wrong?” Tate asked Violet.

“I told you not to talk to me. This” She said pointing at the three of us “doesn’t mean you can talk to me…”

I badly wanted to know what had happened between them, but I didn’t wanna ask. Not just yet.

“As long as you don’t make the same mistakes I did…” Violet continued “you can talk to whoever you want” She smiled at me and I took that as some sort of blessing.

“See? Violet allows me…” Tate rolled his eyes and looked away from me. “Come on! I’m not stupid! I can take care of myself…” I told him.

We went upstairs and into Violet’s old bedroom. The three of us lied on the bed with me in the middle.

“You came back so fast… it didn’t feel like two weeks” Violet said.

“But I swear two weeks passed” I told her passing a finger through the scars that were all over her left arm’s wrist. “Why you cut yourself?”

“Because it made the pain go away” She answered looking at me. “It doesn’t anymore, though.”

“Haven’t you ever felt like there’s nowhere to go? Nowhere to escape? Like the walls of the world were closing in and you couldn’t do anything about it?” Tate asked.

“No.” I answered as I never felt that way before. “Probably because I’ve never known any other way of living” I told them. “For me, life is pretty much a hallway with no doors or windows. Just a straight hallway that leads to my death…”

Neither of them said anything. I grabbed Tate’s left arm to see if he had cuts too, and when I put up his sleeve there they were. What was up with these two?

“That’s worth cutting yourself up for.” Violet said in response to my answer with half a smile on her sweet face.

She was such a pretty girl, it was a real shame she died.

“The sky is clearing up. Soon the sun will be up” Tate said looking out the window, still lying on the bed next to me.

“You should go home. I don’t want you missing school.” Violet said sitting up. “When you’re coming back?”

“Well, since it’s already tomorrow, I guess tonight.” I told them with a smile on my face.

“I’ll be waiting for you outside” Tate told me when I was walking through the front door to head back home.
                                                                                                                                                                          
Chapter 5: “Too Cool For School”
                                                                                                                                                                          

That day at school I was really sleepy but still excited for yet another night I’d be spending on Murder House. I walked around school in some kind of zombie-mode and was eating my lunch alone –as always- when someone sat across from me in the same table I was.

“What are the odds? You go to this school too” Michael’s charming voice said.

“Michael…”  Was all I could say.

“Are you glad to see me?” He asked smiling.

“Yes…?” I said not very sure if I was, still thinking about what Tate said about staying away from him.

I didn’t fully understand why but everything Tate did or said affected me in a very personal way. I had to really listen to him, you know what I mean? Like, he held some sort of absolute truth or something.

“Well I’m glad to see you. I like you.” He stood up and sat right next to me.

“Why does Tate not want you near me?” I asked him starting to feel nervous as he got closer.

“Because I’m dangerous” he answered tucking some hair behind my ear. “And I do have the urge to see you covered in blood. So pretty…” He caressed my arm all the way down to my hand and held it.

“You? Kill me?” I asked sarcastically as I softly took my hand off his. “I’d like to see you try…” I slowly drew half a smile on my face.

“I don’t hurt people in town” He whispered to my ear. “My guardian says that it could get me in trouble and I wouldn’t be able to live here anymore…” He added in the lowest whisper.

I pulled back to look at his face. As I did I got a glimpse with the side of my eye that some girls were buzzing and pointing at us from a table not so far from ours.

“We’ve got an audience” I stated.

“Then I should go” He stood up and before he left, asked: “Are you gonna tell him about this? I mean, me going to Westfield…”

Without even looking at him “No.”, I lied.

Of course I would tell Tate he went to the same school I did. Well, I’d tell him after I asked Violet what she thought about it.

I didn’t see Michael for the rest of the day, and the night fell so fast that when I tried to remember I was already a few feet away from Murder House.

“She deserves to know” I heard Violet’s voice say.

She was standing outside the house along with Tate. Neither of them saw me getting closer so I hid behind some bushes to keep on listening to their conversation.

“It’s dangerous. It’ll be worse if she knows about him” Tate answered to Violet.

“Was it more dangerous for me when I knew about you?” Violet reproached.

"It was dangerous for you from the very start" Tate said in a sorry tone.

“Don’t… touch me!” Violet said angrily. “I know you’re out there, Ce!” She said after.

I stood up and stepped into the lawn.

“What’s to know about him? And who’s ‘him’? Michael?” I asked the series of questions real fast, expecting answers even though, deep down, I knew I wouldn’t get any.

“We are still deliberating about that matter-” Tate stated.

“Oh, someone in the house is gonna tell her eventually, Tate” Violet sort of interrupted him folding her arms across her chest.

“So, it’s true. There are more people in the house. Dead people. Ghosts.” I said more to myself.

“Yeah, it’s quite crowded…” Violet said sort of sarcastically, with a smile on her face.

I’ve made a lot of research before, when I first found out about the house. But I never really believed that it was actually true that the people that had died in there would be stuck in the house forever.

“So, what’s to know about Michael?” I insisted.

“Ok. I’m getting sick of this freak-show.” Michael’s voice said from the other side of the fence. “There’s nothing to hide now, is there Tate?” He added jumping the fence and landing in the Murder House front lawn, a few feet from me. “Or should I call you ‘daddy’?” He smirked “Yes. Constance told me when I was eleven. But since you don’t really talk to her anymore, you would’ve never known.” Michael walked up to me and passed an arm over my shoulders. “You smell good, by the way.” He whispered to me.

“Don’t you dare hurt her…” Violet said through her teeth.

“Oh, you must be sweet little Violet” Michael’s voice sounded like a lullaby and I couldn’t help but to fell under his charm.

He walked towards Violet and grabbed her by the chin to look at her face closely.

“You are just as beautiful as they say” He said.

“Keep your hands off of her” Tate said grabbing Michael’s arm and putting it down, away from Violet.

Violet looked at Tate and for a moment I could see in her eyes how much she really cherished him. Tate, on the other hand was piercing Michael’s face with his dark eyes.

“Alright.” Michael said pulling his arms up. “Hands off stepmom, I get it”

I couldn’t understand a word he was saying, it just didn’t make sense to me. I wanted to ask so many questions, but the timing didn’t seem right.

“Though, I don’t know if she’d be my stepmom, since her mom is actually my mom. So…” He added grabbing his chin in a thoughtful way, “technically, she’s my half-sister” He pulled a face of disgust and talked directly to Tate: “You’re a sick dude, you know that?”

“Cut the crap already! You’re unbelievable insufferable!” Violet said turning around and walking inside the house, with tears on her eyes.

“What it’s going on here?” a woman said walking out the house a few moments later.

“Mom! Don’t go out!” Violet told her walking right behind her.

“I was just leaving” Michael said jumping back the fence and walking inside the next door house.

“Vivien” I whispered, realizing who she was as I had studied the Harmon case for years.
                                                                                                                                                                          
Chapter 6: “Those Days Are Gone”
                                                                                                                                                                          

The four of us went inside Murder House and Violet, Vivien and I talked all night. Vivien told me how they all really passed away, and that she has never been so happy when she was still alive as she was now that she was living in death.

“Dying brought our family together” She said and smiled at Violet while holding her hand.

Violet smiled back and squeezed her mother’s hand just a little. They loved each other, anyone could tell; I’ve never felt that way about my mother, ever. Sometimes I even have trouble calling her ‘my mother’.

Tate left us soon after, when Violet started talking about the way she died.

“Well… I found out that Tate-” She looked at him.

They both had tears in their eyes; Tate was staring his own hands as he played with his thumb ring. A tear fell down his cheek.

“I found out about a piece of Tate’s past” She started over.

I knew what piece of past she meant. I knew everything about the Westfield High Massacre; I had read it online and on old newspapers (that’s where I knew Tate’s face from) looking up the school history a couple of days ago when I first saw, in the library, the plaque where all the names of the kids that got shot were read.

“I was really scared and I haven’t been sleeping so well the past few days, so I took a couple of sleeping pills and…” Her voice cracked and she stopped talking.

“It’s okay, honey” Vivien said to her in a very maternal way as she rubbed her back.

I looked at them and realize no one had ever done that to me. It must have felt good. I’ve never really had a mom. When I looked back at where Tate was, he was no longer there.

Violet told me about how Tate tried to save her but couldn’t; and that he made her believe that she was still alive, because he thought that if she chose to die she wouldn’t feel so bad about it; but his plan backfired when she found out she was dead on her own.

I felt bad for Tate; ‘cause even though he made a horrible thing to Violet, he tried to do the best he could to make her feel better about being dead. I thought Tate’s plan was pretty noble.

Two hours before the sun rose, Vivien put me out of the house and told me to go home, get some breakfast and then go to school right after.

And so I did. For once in my life I had found a mother. A real mother that cared about me, or at least it was the closest thing I would ever find.

That day at school I didn’t see Michael; it was like he hadn’t even gone to school at all. My day was pretty boring, depressing, and lonely. But at least I had English literature that day, and the fact of having the pleasure of listening to Mister Goodman made me a little bit happier.

On the ride home my mother asked about my sleeping habits, since I was practically napping in the car, which I never did before.

“I’m ok. It’s just that I had so much homework lately that I go to bed a little bit later than usual.” I answered, lying of course.

“Alright” The monster said. “Your father’s coming back tonight” She added.

“Really?!” I asked all excited.

“He called this morning and said he’d be coming home by dinner” She explained without taking her eyes off the road.

A smile formed in my face as I was really happy to see my dad again. These past three days had been really long without him. And then I realized; if daddy was coming back, that meant I wasn’t gonna be able to sneak out and go to Murder House with my friends and –new- substitute mother anymore. So the smile wiped off my face instantaneously.

“What’s wrong?” The monster asked and for a moment I thought she cared, but when I looked at her, her expression was of disgust and she didn’t even look back at me when she felt me looking at her, ‘cause I know she did.

“I just remembered I had a lot of homework again” I said going back to looking out the window, feeling sorry for myself for not being able to go to Murder House ever again at night.

I had to come up with a plan quickly.


“Celeste? How are you feeling lately?” My therapist asked from the other side of the room.

The week went by and I still hadn’t put a toe on Murder House. So, I was feeling pretty crappy.

“Great.” I said motionless.

“How is this boy you told me you met last week?” She inquired.

“He hasn’t been to school lately” I said realizing I haven’t seen Michael since that night at Murder House.

“But I thought he didn’t go to your school…” Dr. Stevens pointed out frowning.

“What?” I asked confused as I realized last time I talked about ‘a boy I had met’ I was referring to Tate, not Michael.

“Last week. You told me you’ve met someone, so I asked you if he went to your high school and you said no” She was trying to catch me lying, but I wasn’t gonna fall for it.

“I met someone else” I explained.

“What happened to the other boy?” She asked with a preoccupation glance behind those thick glasses of her.

“He’s still there… but he likes someone else” I wondered what my therapist was thinking about all this, because, even if all I said was true, she couldn’t possibly understand what the real story was about.

I mean, I’m sure she doesn’t imagine Tate is dead and Michael’s his son; which wouldn’t make much sense in the ‘real World’ my therapist lived in.

The time was up.

“Time is up” I said to let her know.

“Yes, I heard your mother’s car parking” My therapist added.

“My dad’s car” I corrected her, standing up from the armchair I’ve been sitting on.

“What?” She asked distracted, putting away my files.

“It’s my dad’s car. It’s not hers” I explained to the idiotic therapist.

I cried myself to sleep that night for not being able to sneak out to Murder House. And the dream of me killing my classmates violently came back repeatedly. I didn’t sleep much, mostly because every time I woke up from the dream I had the urge of feeling blood running through my fingers, so it took me a lot of time to get back to a sleepy mood. I think I slept like three hours during the whole night.

The day after, at school, I saw Michael.

 “I can hear your heart pounding inside my head” He whispered leaning on my back as I tried to take a book off my locker.

“You wanna make it stop?” I asked turning around and facing him.

“Maybe…” He said barely separating his lips while talking.

Our faces were really close. I could taste his warm breath and feel his blue eyes on me, but all I could pay attention to was his pink licked lips.

“What you think is the best way to do that?” I still don’t know how I managed to understand what he said.

His charming voice slipped into my years like the sweetest lullaby. Our lips were a few inches away and I leaned over a little bit. I was about to kiss that little psycho, what was I thinking?! After all the times Tate had warned me about Michael. He moved forward to cut the distance between our lips but the school bell rang and made me jump.

“See you later” He said with half a smile on his face as he pulled back; our lips barely touched.

I wanted him so bad.
                                                                                                                                                                          
Chapter 7: “Killing Me Softly”
                                                                                                                                                                          

“You still haven’t made any friends, huh?” Michael said sitting in front of me at launch.

“Where have you been?! I haven’t seen you in a week!” I told him in a tone of voice lower than normal.

“I’ve been hunting outta state” He asked taking a sip of his coke.

“What are you? A vampire?” I joked playing with the cafeteria food with my plastic fork.

“Oh, no!” He said after laughing at what I said. “You have uncovered the truth!”

“Now you have to kill me!” I joked back.

“Well, that was already on my plans” He went back to his normal self.

“Yeah, right” I said.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” He questioned.

“Because I can’t feel fear. I’m a psychopath, remember?” I didn’t really remember if I’d ever told him about that. “Besides… you’re not that scary” I tempted him.

“I can scare you.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Meet me at Murder House tonight, and I’ll show you what I can do.” He said before standing up and leaving me alone.

The ride home was quiet, as I preferred it. But when we got home, something unusual happened: dad was there.

“I’m fixing dinner for you girls tonight!” He came out of the kitchen wearing an apron and with a smile on his face as we came inside the house.

“Great!” The monster said smiling widely and kissed my daddy in the mouth.

Honestly, the only times I’ve seen her acting like a real person were when she was around my dad. At least she loved him for real.

The dinner was delicious, but I was more excited about my date tonight with Michael. I was wondering what he would do to try to scare me.

When I went to my room to wait for my daddy and the monster to go to sleep so I could sneak out of the house, my father came after me.

“So, did you enjoy dinner?” He asked stopping on my bedroom door and leaning on the frame.

“Yep. It was great dad. Thank you” I said, truly feeling it.

“I love you. You know that, right?” My dad said smiling shyly.

“Of course!” I replied. “I love you, too” I told him.

He came up to me and kissed my forehead.

“Don’t ever forget it” he said before closing the door behind him.

He yelled a ‘good night!’ from the other side of the door so I did too.

I turned all the lights out and get out the house through my window. I rode my bike as fast as I could to Murder House. When I arrived there, Michael was waiting for me sitting on the front lawn.

“Hey” I said getting off the bike.

“Hey” he replied standing up.

When I came up to him, he grabbed my face with both his hands and kissed me fully in the mouth.

“Come on, let’s go inside” He said taking me by the hand and leading me inside Murder House.

We went all the way down to the basement.

“Is this basement supposed to scare me?” I asked sarcastically.

“Aren’t you scared now?” He asked pulling a knife off his pants.

“What you gonna do with that?” I asked starting to wonder if all the times he said he wanted to kill me he actually meant it.

“Well” He said spinning the end of the blade on the tip of his finger. “I’m not really one of those who like to make their victims suffer. So, I guess I’ll just plain stab you several times until you’re dead” He said walking towards me.

“This is ridiculous” I said turning around and walking to the stairs that lead to the rest of the house and out.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere…” He said grabbing my arm strongly and turning me around to face him.

He pulled me closer to his body. As I felt his heavy breathing on my face, I also felt the cold blade piercing through my skin and flesh into my upper abdomen.

I will never forget the satisfaction look he had on his face. He looked so goddamned happy with that creepy smile forming up his face.

I didn’t even try to run away; I was so confused by everything that was going on.

“We’ve got to do something!!!” I heard Violet’s voice scream.

But when I looked around as Michael stabbed my body over and over I couldn’t see her anywhere.

“We can’t, Vi” Tate’s voice answered her.

Blood and some other things I couldn’t recognize came up my throat all the way up to my mouth and made me spit them out. Michael was still holding my arm and keeping me standing since my legs didn’t really work that well.

“You look just as beautiful as I thought… covered in blood” He said agitatedly; and then he dropped me.

I felt the cold, hard floor when I hit it. But it didn’t hurt. Not as much as everything else hurt. Even though I had given up, my body was still hanging on to life.

I guess Michael saw the glimpse of life I had in me because: “I’m surprised you’re not dead already” He said as he threw himself over me to finish the job.

When I saw Michael destroying my body, I realized I was hopelessly dead. I took a look around, all the ghosts were there, watching, but no one did anything. They didn’t even move.

“Why aren’t they doing anything?” I asked Tate with tears falling down my eyes.

He passed an arm over my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. “Because Constance owns the house” He explained.

“What?” I asked confused.

Michael stood up from my dead body, his hands and forearms covered in my blood. My blood, still warn, sprinkled all over his face.

“Constance owns this fucking house,” One of the guys from the gay couple said a few feet away. “So we can’t touch the motherfucker kid, no offense” He added talking to Vivien who had just come up to me and put my right hand between hers.

“It’s ok, though. You’re home now” Violet said smiling at me; tears drying on her face, she had been crying over my death.

“What?” I couldn’t feel my body, all of it was numb.

“You’re one of us now” The old lady in the maid suit said.

Michael walked away from the house, still covered in my blood, with a triumph smile on his stained face.

“I’m a ghost?” My legs gave in, and Tate fell down with me. “Am I never gonna be able to get out of here?!” I screamed at Tate, who looked at me with compassion but said nothing. “What’s gonna happen to my dad?!”

“I’m sorry, honey” Vivien said sitting next to me and rubbing my back.

I buried my face in Tate, where the neck meets the shoulder. “I tried to warn you” Tate whispered to me.

“What… why…” I couldn’t even speak. “So what if Constance owns the house?” I managed to say.

“She threatened us, that old rag!” The gay man said.

“She said that if we lay a hand on Michael, then she’ll sell this house to a demolishing agency” The old maid explained.

“So?” I asked with new tears coming to my eyes.

“So… No house, no us.” Tate explained smiling at me.

I looked at Violet. When I met her she wasn’t happy. She was really sad, she always regretted being dead.

“It does get better” She told me with half a smile. “I promise”.



The END


Hope you guys liked it, feel free to comment ^^
 
xo-

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