Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Ballad of Mona Lisa
Tell Me I'm Right
1 reviewShe felt herself grow faint once more as a pair of full lips smirked at her and brown eyes mirrored the grim amusement.
1Ambiance
Brennan stood perplexed for a moment on the porch. What had just happened? Why was he visible to her when he had tried so vainly to be seen by others? He shook his head in disbelief and then realized that he just passed up a perfect chance to let his voice be heard! Now where had she gone? He spun around and took in his surroundings before bounding into the boisterous house.
Not in the entry way, she wasn't in the dining room either... He allowed himself to pass through several bodies in the crowded party and finally came to a small group he recognized. He smiled as he heard his uncle's frantic voice, “Get her on to the couch! No! Not that one! There are people there! Really Professor, you should have seen that on your own!” Always the boss, even when he wasn't.
The young ghost passed through one more body and saw that it was the woman that he was looking for that was being helped onto an empty sofa. She was out cold. “JR, go find Harold, he really should take Blanche home now.” The Professor finally took the initiative as he sent the younger leaguer on his way.
“Blanche...” The spirit whispered, the faint sound already lost in the chaotic ambiance of the party. He liked the name, it was so simple that it only complimented her quiet beauty instead of distracting from it. His stomach twisted in guilt and anticipation as he felt the urge to somehow help the passed out woman, but he knew there was nothing he could do. She looked so helpless on the blue velvet sofa, the folds of her green dress spread out about her.
His uncle, thankfully had just procured some smelling salts and was holding them beneath her nose. Thinking that her seeing him again so soon would cause more trouble, the ghost quickly retired from the room back to the porch. He leaned against the railing and thought again of those blue eyes and he was resolved to speak to her again. Just not yet. He berated himself for not having the nerve earlier to say more than one complete sentence and was again frustrated with his situation. What was the point of being attracted to a pretty face when one was a ghost?
He rubbed his eyes in what he would assume was death's version of weariness and shifted his position on the railing. His reverie was disturbed, however, when he saw a young girl step onto the porch and sneak a peak at the grown-up party through one of the windows. “You!” He exclaimed as he recognized the child from the train station. Her blonde hair whipped around as she spun in surprise to look at him. She looked ready to bolt at being caught. “Don't run, I just want to talk to you!” She gave a scream as he moved towards her and she ran off into the night. He ran after the girl, shouting like a mad man to get her to stop, but when she ran into the bushes she was lost and he couldn't see her in the darkness. “Damn it,” he muttered, before wincing at how real that phrase had become to him. He glanced apologetically up to the sky, “I swear, I didn't mean it.”
–
Blanche sat in her parlor the next morning sipping tea as she hoped to get rid of the headache she had. She was still unsure if what happened last night was as real as it seemed. The man on the porch had to be someone different from the dead man in the picture... the somewhat attractive man... She shook the thoughts from her head and concentrated on her tea instead. That attempt didn't last long; if it was a ghost she saw she wondered why she could see him and what he was doing there. Perhaps seeing his family? But that didn't make sense when she recalled his ramblings about a woman.
Her attention was diverted when a maid walked in with a note for her and the latest edition of the Chicago Tribune. “From the Mayor, mum,” she said. Blanche took the note and opened it. “Blanche, I regret to inform you that we must post-pone today's outing. Miss Mary here is in need of a guide and I have taken it upon myself to show her the beauties of our town. I will call on you tomorrow. -Harold”
She sighed in disappointment and did her best to console herself by looking through the paper. One article in particular caught her eye. It seemed to be an eye witness account that was simply presented as the ramblings of a so-called mad man. The headline read: “Corpse that Doesn't Rot”. The article told of how the coroner was shocked to see that the corpse of a murder victim not only was free of rigamortis but didn't show any signs of the decaying of flesh. The man was certainly dead, and the flesh was without pulse and warmth but it was simply not decomposing as it should have.
She raised her eyebrows in disgust and discarded the paper mid-article. She saw no details as to who the corpse was, but then she really didn't care. Wistfully, she looked out her parlor window and sighed in boredom. It was a lovely day outside, and there were flowers blooming, but it seemed the cheeriness just didn't reach her. Life was hum drum and listless for her, and there seemed nothing she could do about it.
“Something bothering you?” A young man's voice disrupted her thoughts. She jumped in surprise and turned to the direction it came from on the other side of the parlor. There, lounging quite languidly, was the slim frame of a familiar man. She felt herself grow faint once more as a pair of full lips smirked at her and brown eyes mirrored the grim amusement.
---
Hey all! Just dropping this new chapter in for you to enjoy! I was surprised that it actually got done. I was sitting here moping about writer's block and then I tried writing a little, checked the word count and to my surprise I reached the word count! =D Fun times. So drop me a review to let me know how (or if) you're liking this! Let me know how I'm doing and if there's anything you'd like to see more of. PLease? Pretty please?
Not in the entry way, she wasn't in the dining room either... He allowed himself to pass through several bodies in the crowded party and finally came to a small group he recognized. He smiled as he heard his uncle's frantic voice, “Get her on to the couch! No! Not that one! There are people there! Really Professor, you should have seen that on your own!” Always the boss, even when he wasn't.
The young ghost passed through one more body and saw that it was the woman that he was looking for that was being helped onto an empty sofa. She was out cold. “JR, go find Harold, he really should take Blanche home now.” The Professor finally took the initiative as he sent the younger leaguer on his way.
“Blanche...” The spirit whispered, the faint sound already lost in the chaotic ambiance of the party. He liked the name, it was so simple that it only complimented her quiet beauty instead of distracting from it. His stomach twisted in guilt and anticipation as he felt the urge to somehow help the passed out woman, but he knew there was nothing he could do. She looked so helpless on the blue velvet sofa, the folds of her green dress spread out about her.
His uncle, thankfully had just procured some smelling salts and was holding them beneath her nose. Thinking that her seeing him again so soon would cause more trouble, the ghost quickly retired from the room back to the porch. He leaned against the railing and thought again of those blue eyes and he was resolved to speak to her again. Just not yet. He berated himself for not having the nerve earlier to say more than one complete sentence and was again frustrated with his situation. What was the point of being attracted to a pretty face when one was a ghost?
He rubbed his eyes in what he would assume was death's version of weariness and shifted his position on the railing. His reverie was disturbed, however, when he saw a young girl step onto the porch and sneak a peak at the grown-up party through one of the windows. “You!” He exclaimed as he recognized the child from the train station. Her blonde hair whipped around as she spun in surprise to look at him. She looked ready to bolt at being caught. “Don't run, I just want to talk to you!” She gave a scream as he moved towards her and she ran off into the night. He ran after the girl, shouting like a mad man to get her to stop, but when she ran into the bushes she was lost and he couldn't see her in the darkness. “Damn it,” he muttered, before wincing at how real that phrase had become to him. He glanced apologetically up to the sky, “I swear, I didn't mean it.”
–
Blanche sat in her parlor the next morning sipping tea as she hoped to get rid of the headache she had. She was still unsure if what happened last night was as real as it seemed. The man on the porch had to be someone different from the dead man in the picture... the somewhat attractive man... She shook the thoughts from her head and concentrated on her tea instead. That attempt didn't last long; if it was a ghost she saw she wondered why she could see him and what he was doing there. Perhaps seeing his family? But that didn't make sense when she recalled his ramblings about a woman.
Her attention was diverted when a maid walked in with a note for her and the latest edition of the Chicago Tribune. “From the Mayor, mum,” she said. Blanche took the note and opened it. “Blanche, I regret to inform you that we must post-pone today's outing. Miss Mary here is in need of a guide and I have taken it upon myself to show her the beauties of our town. I will call on you tomorrow. -Harold”
She sighed in disappointment and did her best to console herself by looking through the paper. One article in particular caught her eye. It seemed to be an eye witness account that was simply presented as the ramblings of a so-called mad man. The headline read: “Corpse that Doesn't Rot”. The article told of how the coroner was shocked to see that the corpse of a murder victim not only was free of rigamortis but didn't show any signs of the decaying of flesh. The man was certainly dead, and the flesh was without pulse and warmth but it was simply not decomposing as it should have.
She raised her eyebrows in disgust and discarded the paper mid-article. She saw no details as to who the corpse was, but then she really didn't care. Wistfully, she looked out her parlor window and sighed in boredom. It was a lovely day outside, and there were flowers blooming, but it seemed the cheeriness just didn't reach her. Life was hum drum and listless for her, and there seemed nothing she could do about it.
“Something bothering you?” A young man's voice disrupted her thoughts. She jumped in surprise and turned to the direction it came from on the other side of the parlor. There, lounging quite languidly, was the slim frame of a familiar man. She felt herself grow faint once more as a pair of full lips smirked at her and brown eyes mirrored the grim amusement.
---
Hey all! Just dropping this new chapter in for you to enjoy! I was surprised that it actually got done. I was sitting here moping about writer's block and then I tried writing a little, checked the word count and to my surprise I reached the word count! =D Fun times. So drop me a review to let me know how (or if) you're liking this! Let me know how I'm doing and if there's anything you'd like to see more of. PLease? Pretty please?
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