![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Nov. 1st, 2015 07:32 pmShe knew it was foolishness to sit up and wait for Bill again. But just on the offchance, Bonnie has spent the evening upstairs in her room, looking through Bill's sketch book.
"Cain't wait fer them to invent Xerox." she says quietly. "Should get copies of some of these in frames. Even managed to get a picture of Quentin without him pullin' that face..."
"Well, I never would have guessed you'd have nineteen children..." says a voice behind her.
Bonnie freezes. That's not Bill. It's a woman's voice. She looks around at a face about ten years younger than her own, a woman standing behind her, with long red hair.
"I'm so proud of you, Bonnie." she says.
Bonnie gets to her feet, dropping the sketch book on the bed. The ghost steps towards her.
"Don't be gettin' scared on me now. We don't got much time."
"Mom?" Bonnie blinks at her. "I..."
She was hoping for Bill. She hadn't even considered it could be Mom, and now that it is, she doesn't know what she wants to say, what she wants to ask.
"Bonnie, it's okay." her mom says. "I'm someone you actually managed to bury. There are so many you haven't. But you have questions, they need an answer.
"You've spent yer life wonderin' how I died, wonderin' if you had it too. They didn't know what it was, when I was alive. They call it Multiple Sclerosis in the future. I didn't give it to you, and you didn't give it to Alice."
Bonnie hardly breathes. Her mom continues.
"I can't say what happened to your brothers or Alice. But you want to know where Alice is."
"You've seen Alice?" Bonnie asks. "Is she... are you in heaven?"
The ghost goes over to the photograph of Alice on Bonnie's locker, the photo from the week where the alternate universe Bonnie came here. She lifts the photo, and hands it to Bonnie.
"Alice is here."
"I don't understand." Bonnie says.
"In your world, this field is a graveyard, not a playground as it is in this picture. Your infant daughter Alice is buried in this spot in an unmarked grave."
Bonnie looks at the photograph more carefully, looking past the playground at the street ahead. It's a familiar street. She gasps.
"You got to be kidding me."
She sinks back down onto the bed, staring at the picture.
"Mom... when you died, I never got the chance to say one last time how much I love you." she says, in a tight voice.
There's no reply. She looks around, and the ghost is gone.
"Cain't wait fer them to invent Xerox." she says quietly. "Should get copies of some of these in frames. Even managed to get a picture of Quentin without him pullin' that face..."
"Well, I never would have guessed you'd have nineteen children..." says a voice behind her.
Bonnie freezes. That's not Bill. It's a woman's voice. She looks around at a face about ten years younger than her own, a woman standing behind her, with long red hair.
"I'm so proud of you, Bonnie." she says.
Bonnie gets to her feet, dropping the sketch book on the bed. The ghost steps towards her.
"Don't be gettin' scared on me now. We don't got much time."
"Mom?" Bonnie blinks at her. "I..."
She was hoping for Bill. She hadn't even considered it could be Mom, and now that it is, she doesn't know what she wants to say, what she wants to ask.
"Bonnie, it's okay." her mom says. "I'm someone you actually managed to bury. There are so many you haven't. But you have questions, they need an answer.
"You've spent yer life wonderin' how I died, wonderin' if you had it too. They didn't know what it was, when I was alive. They call it Multiple Sclerosis in the future. I didn't give it to you, and you didn't give it to Alice."
Bonnie hardly breathes. Her mom continues.
"I can't say what happened to your brothers or Alice. But you want to know where Alice is."
"You've seen Alice?" Bonnie asks. "Is she... are you in heaven?"
The ghost goes over to the photograph of Alice on Bonnie's locker, the photo from the week where the alternate universe Bonnie came here. She lifts the photo, and hands it to Bonnie.
"Alice is here."
"I don't understand." Bonnie says.
"In your world, this field is a graveyard, not a playground as it is in this picture. Your infant daughter Alice is buried in this spot in an unmarked grave."
Bonnie looks at the photograph more carefully, looking past the playground at the street ahead. It's a familiar street. She gasps.
"You got to be kidding me."
She sinks back down onto the bed, staring at the picture.
"Mom... when you died, I never got the chance to say one last time how much I love you." she says, in a tight voice.
There's no reply. She looks around, and the ghost is gone.
