A Second Chance/Corpse Bride 2

Chapter 1

A Second Chance/Corpse Bride 2

Chapter 1

Something Missing/Decode

Land of the Living- 2 years later- Victor’s P.O.V

Many people crowded around outside the church, holding candles with depressing looks upon their faces. I was not upon them. I was leaning back against the old oak tree, clutching my worn black coat over my body. Victoria was dead. She died right before she could give birth to their son.

It still amazed me to no end that my parents and her parents allowed them to marry. But, we decided to wait until everybody calmed down about the whole dead thing to hold. Before we knew it, Victoria was expecting a child. Now, there was nothing left. The townspeople blamed me of Victoria and our unborn son’s death because I did “witchcraft” on them just like the people thought I did “witchcraft” to raise the dead. At least, that’s what Pastor Galswell thought. The townspeople just believed him.

Now I was alone in this cold, unforgiving world. The only person who believed my story about the Land of the Dead was Victoria. Victoria and I had a promising future ahead of them. Once Victoria bore a son, we were going to run away. Off to the countryside to start over. Now, all I can see in my future is an insipid, bitter world just like this. Where I have to take my father’s place as a fish merchant and do whatever my new wife says.

I looked back at the church. Everyone was leaving. I signed and stood up, preparing myself for whatever may be thrown at me from here on out. I would give anything to go back to the Land of the Dead. But I can’t kill myself, so there must be another way. I just shook my head and began to walk towards the church, mentally preparing myself for the confrontation with Pastor Galswell.

When I got to the front of the church, my mother looked up and gave me a sort of hopeful smile. Even though my mother and father look totally calm and collected, as soon as we take one step inside the house, I’m 100% sure my mother and father will curl up by the fire and burst into a river of tears. I don’t blame them though. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past week. I don’t even know what I look like in the mirror. I haven’t looked in one for about the same time as well.

Pastor Galswell came out of the church dressed in his usual attire. He glared daggers at me then turned to my father and whispered something. My father only nodded in response and ushered us out towards the carriage. When I looked back toward the church, I saw the Pastor lean over, wheezing. Then he turned his back to us and closed the wooden doors firmly shut behind him. I could’ve sworn I heard a faint click of a lock.

As soon as we got home, just as I expected, my parents curled up in their chairs, bawling while I only watched them, saying nothing. Instead of me trying to comfort them, I started up the stairs, towards my room. My room is the only place I can hide and do the things I want to do without being judged. When I got to my room, I decided that it wouldn’t kill me to look in the mirror. When I did, I gasped in horror at my reflection.

My dark brown eyes held dark circles under them. My usually straight raven hair was now a frizzed bird’s nest. My face is now ghostly white with a few blue-purple bruises from a fight with a few townspeople. My skin went down from a pale tan to a pale ghost tone. At least my pale salmon lips didn’t change. Anymore bruises or if my cheekbones begin to pop out, I’ll look like a corpse.