Star Crossed - Sammisawr (the unexpected everything TXT) 📗

his own Unfinished Business?   
"Helen? Are you in here?" a voice came from her door, followed by knocking.  
 
"Until next time...” William said quietly vanishing through the floor right as Helen's father entered her room.  
 
"Who were you talking to dear?" her father asked her.  
"Hm? Nobody... just... says my thoughts aloud." Helen said with a sigh, allowing her eyes to follow his father's movements. With pursed lips, Dr. Watson sat down beside her daughter.  
 
"I see. And what led you into saying your thoughts aloud?"  
 
"Tiredness, I suppose." Helen answered uncomfortably. Her father's brows furrowed but before he could open his mouth to answer, Helen interjected; "You're a doctor. You've seen... you've seen people dying before. Tell me... what happens after they die?"  
"Well, their bodies get stiff; the skin grows pale from the lack of blood. And their skin gets cold."  
 
"No...I...I mean what happens. To their spirit?" she asked him.  
 
"Their spirits? Well I suppose that if they are God fearing people they will go to Heaven."  
 
"No...I mean...is there such things as ghosts?"  
"Ghosts? I don't believe so - it all depends on how you judge life. A few actually say that when you die, your body returns to give life to another. Some others say that you pass on to the next plane of existence. There is no scientific evidence for this."  
 
"What would be a ghost's Unfinished Business?"  
 
The doctor scratched his chin as he turned his hazel eyes to her. "Something they haven't achieved in life which they would need to achieve... something to make them worthy of passing onto the next plane of existence. It could be anything. Yet, you're asking for a philosophical debate here, Helen. Why ask?"
She shrugged. "I'm just curious...” she said thinking to herself. “So...could a ghost get stuck here with out knowing his Unfinished Business?"  
 
"Technically...yes. They could not know or they could not have any. Some just get stuck here because they are waiting for someone, or they just aren’t welcome in an Alternate Existence. But enough of this ghost talk, dinner will be ready in a few moments," he kissed the top of her head. "Don't be late."
"Yes, of course." Helen replied with a small smile.
She watched her father leave the room and laid on her bed, re-thinking the conversation. The whole thing was a very strange mystery indeed... and Helen knew that William would definitely be angry if he found out of her prying. Deciding to talk to him about it later on, Helen stood up from her bed and walked down towards the dining room.
William popped in front of her on the stairs, as an attempt stop her. "I don't really appreciate you talking to your father like that," he said as she walked through him.  
 
Helen shivered as a wave of cold washed over her. "And I don’t appreciate you stopping in front of me, causing me to walk through you like that." 
"What right have you to actually do that?" William asked angrily; his icy-blue eyes blazing with contempt. "Who do you think you are to pry in like that?"  
 
"Merely someone who's curious and who wants to learn." Helen answered, shielding her fear. "Now if you'll excuse me... my father is waiting."  
 
"You cannot hide, Helen. We'll finish this talk eventually."  
"I'm looking forward to it," she said overly cheerful.  
 
William glared at her and disinigrated in front of her eyes but not before he was able to say. "Helen Watson, you drive me crazy."  
 
As William reappeared in his room he punched his pillow only for his hand to go through it. It was true that Helen made him go crazy but it was only because he didn't understand her. She was different then the rest, very different.   
In the meantime, Helen took as much time as possible to finish off her course. She was angered to the fact that William was so cold, but she knew, of course, that it was partly her own fault. She wondered if she could actually break the seal of the walls around him... and find out the personality inside. Ghost or no, he was there. And she couldn't leave him alone - not while she's living in the mansion.  
 
As she started to eat, her father watched her with a thoughtful gaze, wanting to know what had caused her the peculiar mood. It hadn't even been a week since they have moved there, but already, Helen was disturbed. The doctor followed her daughter's eyes and noticed the changing emotions from them - at first, they moved fast with her brows furrowed, but after a while, she relaxed and started to gaze thoughtfully at one object to the other.  
 
Highly interesting, the doctor concluded. 
William sat in his room for a while, thinking. If she wants to ruin my life, I will just ruin hers... he thought with a smirk.  
 
Falling through his floor he landed in the chair directly next to Helen. "Let's talk. Now."
Surprised, Helen dropped her spoon with a scream, almost falling out of her chair. A split second later, her father stood with a concerned and angered look on his face.  
 
"Helen. What is it?" He asked. "What's going on?"  
 
"Just a chill, father." Helen answered, clenching her fists. "I... I thought I saw something. Please excuse me... I'm not feeling well." She said, standing up. "And no need for a check-up, father. I think I just need some rest... after all that work... with the new house. Excuse me."
"Talk to me Helen. You were so interested in the Ghost World before, now what happened? When your father is there you just act like I'm not there? Well then I see how it is," he said stepping in front of her so she walked through him.  
 
Stopping she shivered and gritted her teeth. "Please stop that!" she hissed.  
 
"What was that dear?" her father asked from the dining room.  
 
"Nothing Father..." she called back to him, glaring at William.
"See that?" William interjected yet again.  
 
"What is your problem? Is it wrong for me to live in this large mansion? My father worked hard to get it, hoping that I'll eventually get myself to know people better. And who did I meet? A ghost. Just great." She said sarcastically, walking off.  
 
"Oh, so first you're interested, and now you want me to leave?"  
 
"No. I never said that. I'd appreciate it if you actually stay and talk with me, but not when I'm engaged with others." 
"As far as I could tell you weren't engaged with him at all. You were staring off thinking about me and then your father was just watching you and wondering what the hell was wrong with his daughter," he said walking along side of her, of rather more, hovering.  
 
"He was not. I was not thinking of you, I was thinking about ghosts in general," she said heatedly, blushing.  
 
He laughed a ghostly laugh, his icy eyes bearing into her soul. "Sure. Just keep telling yourself that." 
Ignoring the remark, she turned to his other comment; "When I say engaged, I mean when someone else is there. They obviously can't see you and with you popping up from thin air like that, it was surely going to make a scene."  
 
"Not my problem."  
 
"It will be if I start ignoring you. What do you want anyway?" 
"I want you to stop prying into my personal business. I want you to ask permission before you discuss my personal life with strangers," he said walking through a wall into his room.  
 
"You know doors are always a plus."  
 
"For you maybe, but for me, walls work just as well." 
Helen decided that she had enough excitement for the day and changed her clothes into something more suitable to sleep in. Sitting down at her dressing table, she started to brush her golden-blonde hair, wondering with all her imagination on what she should do afterwards. In the end, all Helen could do was to turn the lights off, go under her covers and to let the night pass. 
William lay down on his bed, managing not to sink through. "What is it about her...” he muttered to himself. He hadn't been able to show himself to anyone else but her. He hadn't wanted to show himself to any one except her and one other.  
 
He sighed. It was backwards. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be able to show him self to those he chose, like his mother. Not to those who just happened to be there, like Helen. 
Night eventually passed and once again, Helen was faced with the dreaded morning. She woke up by the rays of the sunshine and as she stood, she casts her eyes around for the sights of William, but none came. Sighing in relief (and partly disappointment), Helen dressed and descended the stairs for breakfast. Her father had left for the day, naturally, leaving her to herself.  
 
With nothing else to do, Helen started to walk around the mansion, hoping to see more of the place. 
William floated around the attic, looking through all his junk that no one bothered to get rid of. Flipping through a photo album he looked at pictures of his long dead parents. Next to their pictures was a newspaper clipping. He had read it a hundred times and memorized it.  
 
A car was found on December 17, 1905, in a ditch near the mansion of Dolly and Jacob Schwenk. The car was completely totaled and Dolly and Jacob were killed along with their 17 year old son, William.  
 
As he sat there he thought of his family and how lucky Helen was to have her father. And that moment, if ghosts could cry, a single tear would be falling down his cheek.
"That's about thirty years ago..." A voice was heard directly above his ear. "I'm sorry."  
 
William rose to his feet and the photograph album fell on the floor, face down. He blinked upon the sight of Helen who merely tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, managing a small smile. She picked the album up from the floor and closed it, wiping off the dust with her hand.  
 
"My mother and baby sister died the same way." She said.
"I...I'm sorry about your family," he muttered looking at the ground. This was the only time in his ghostly experience he could remember ever being embarrassed.  
 
"And I'm sorry about yours...” she said handing the album back to him.  
 
He reached out and took the photo album but not before his hand landed on hers and for a split second, the world seemed to stop. 
 
Helen could feel the cold emanating from his touch. She had thought that all ghosts' touch would feel only as if they were mist - but not him. It seems that there was a very thin layer coating that cold, pearly-grey form; a surface which landed on hers. She paused, partly scared and partly shocked and her green eyes instinctively traveled up to meet his icy-blue ones. 
Helen's hand felt warm against his, it had been a long time since he could have touched another human's skin. Staring into her green eyes he noticed that they had a touch of silver mixed in.  
 
Pulling away quickly he tried to gain hold of the album but it fell right through him and onto the floor.
All Helen could manage was a small gasp of surprise. She didn't know what to do - especially with William looking as helpless as a ghost. Both eyes could only gaze onto the old photo album until finally; Helen crouched down and picked the tattered book, hugging it tight against her chest. She then stood up, lowering her eyes.  
 
"...It must be painful for you to go through all this." She managed.