Chapter OneYou sit in the pew of a huge church. Waiting for someone to say your name. Waiting for someone to say that they'll be here for you, since you'r ecrying. Happy birthday. Just an hour ago you finally turned nineteen. June 13, 1987, 10:02 AM. Your exact birthdate and time. But your birthday isn't the only thing going down. On June 13, 1992, when you were five, your granmother had died. At 11:04 AM, this exact moment. Somehow you could never forget these things.
Some amount of time passes as you weep in the large church, waiting for hours and hours but to you for some odd reason it only felt like a few minutes. So you never really realize the time of course.
"Ay'!" you hear an unknown man call out, "Wha' a' ya' doin' ere'?" You stare blankly at the man, "Wha-Wait, what did you say?" you look at this strange man with an equally strange look. "I said what are you doing here?" he snorts out with an attitude, speaking clearly this time. He doesn't even care that your eyes are slightly glossed red from crying. You decide to stay silent while trying your hardest not to cry anymore, glaring at him helps. "The sign said the church was closed on Tuesday,
today, can't you read?"
"
Jerk," you utter in your head standing up as you do so. "That's right. Get going!" he yells to you as you're almost to the door. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" you shout back at him unexpectedly, tears tip-toeing down your face. When you turn back though the man seemed to be gone. "Wha-What?" You begin to back out the door aw-struck.
"Who're you yelling at?" a barely familiar voice asks when you back up into them. You spin to face the person, fast. "Oh-uh-erm-uhm, no one really. I promise," You stutter awkwardly to the person you face. None other than Ray Toro. You are not familiar with the band at this point, yet you have a friend who loves them. One day was watching an interview from AOL sessions of the band while talking to you on the phone. So you can barely say his voice is familiar. "Uh, isn't the church closed on T-Tuesdays?" still stuttering you think to yourself, "
Great make an idiot out of your self." "No it's not. What gave you that idea? And if you thought it was closed why were you here?" "Uh, I didn't see the sign. Uhm, some man told me that it was closed on T-Tue-Tuesdays."
Ray raised an eyebrow at your nervousness, he definatly though something was up. "What'd he look like?" he jabbed the question once more after you said nothing, "What did he look like?" "Uhm, he was wearing a-a dirty old suit, p-pin striped. And he looked like he was, erhm, I unno' thirty?" "... Did you get his name?" "Well it said Trevor on his suit." Ray's eyes bugged out of his head like someone just hit him with a metal bat on the back of the head. (The baseball kind sillies. : D)
"
GERARD." Ray called back to the outside. "<********>" Suddenly you head for the side door yet the man, Trevor was standing in the way. Though his attitude was sour and he looked a little musty he look brillant against the sunset outside over the graveyard. He had stuble all around the beard and mustash area. His hair looked greasy and messed, about two inches long in all areas. Brown and untidy. His eyes were a deep brown with a look of hunger, anger, and misery all swept into one. Looked like he was dying for a ciggerette. "Sunset?" you blab out, "But it wasn't even noon yet a while ago!" "Kid you've been here for hours, what're you talking about? You better get out of here while the gettings good. Tuesday night ain't the best time for being around here." "What are you talking about?" you ask nervously sided with a nervous laugh.
Gerard had appeared in the door way, his hair wet with a towel drapped over his head of a mint green color. "Mmm?" he looked at Ray boredly, "What's up?" They then hear your small shout of "What are you talking about?" and look to you. "What are you talking to?" Gerard yells back. Ray looked at him, "Trevor I think." Gerard seemed to choke at the name Trevor. "TREVOR?!" he asked in a panic. Trevor still didn't look to the other two, "Get going kid,
now."
You heed what he says and start running to the other door. Gerard grabs you by the back of your collar, "Where ya' going kiddo?" he asks knowing you're not a kid. "He said this place isn't good when it's dark out on Tuesday nights." Finally it hit you. Ever since you were little you talked to people others couldn't always see or hear. Ghosts. From being tuckered out from so much crying you didn't realize that Trevor was dead. "You were going to visit Trevor weren't you?" you ask looking Gerard straight in the eye. "So?" he says cross.
"Fourteen years ago my grand-mother died. That's why I was here. I spend her deathday in this church and wait for someone to open up the cemetary so I can visit her grave. I lost time, so I guess I missed him."
Gerard and Ray were still as they looked at you, "Dedicated I see," Gerard said looking the other way, "Well get going, it's not gonna be safe soon right?" "Uh-huh," you say looking up at him, "Well you better go soon then too."
After the conversation you decide to run as far as you can until you find a friends house. "
Jamie, no he's on vacation, Julia, no her aunt is visiting, Kyle, no his house is full of guys, uhm, damn it! Where to go?" you contemplate as you run along the side of the newly paved street, "
Beatrice!" it finally hits you, no matter what she's always there for you, and she's a little out of the ordinary, just like you.
//End Chapter One
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