We'll Meet Again...

Ghosts of Summer's Past

Warnings: mention of death of parent

Word count: 1.3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mindscape was dark and cold. I could sense his presence near but I was unsure as to where he was. Frantically, I spun around, trying to find any scrap of light. "Bill!" I yell out, just wanting this to be over. I want to confront him about the stupid prophecy.

His laughter echoes in the darkness and I roll my eyes at his dramatic ability to be annoying. "Little Sixer," he chuckles, popping up in front of me in a flash of blue. "How can I be of service to you?" he asked and I'm almost tempted to punch him.

"Just tell me about the stupid prophecy I found in journal number three! Don't dance around it," I threaten him, wondering just how much that threat is going to have on him.

Frustratingly, he decides to not answer. "Stan is keeping more secrets from you than just his identity," he disappeared. I scream for him to come back, frustrated beyond belief. I can feel myself waking up, so the best I can do is try and figure out what he meant.

My eyes flutter open, my bedroom coming into view as I throw off my blanket and find my way toward Stan's room, glad he's still off on his weird road trip for the time being.

I shouldn't let Bill get in my head, knowing he's probably attempting some sort of strange mind trick out of all of this. I slowly turn the door knob, peering my head into his room, only greeted with an empty silence.

I don't even know where to begin. What more could he be hiding from us? I turn my head to glance at every single corner of his room, instantly getting hit with a flood of memories.

~

I tiptoed down the hallway, feeling the cold air on my skin. At just six years old, I had my whole world turned upside-down. Tormented by nightmares, I woke up in a panic almost every single night.

And now, I am tired of it. I slowly push open the door to grandpa Stan's bedroom, looking in. He's fast asleep, snoring loudly. I quietly walk up to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He stirs, turning his head toward me. "Huh?" he mumbles, sitting up.

"I had a nightmare," I tell him, hoping he'd comfort me.

"How is that my problem, kid?" he asked, yawning. I could feel my upper lip quiver slightly as I glanced up at him. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he picks me up, holding me in his large arms. "You can sleep here tonight, but don't get used to it," he tells me.

~

I almost tear up. I used to think that man was my grandfather. I shake it away, trying to focus again. "What am I here for?" I ask myself quietly.

Then something shiny catches my eye. Curious, I slowly walk towards it, realizing whatever it this object is, is under the floorboards. Putting my hand on the board, I realize it's quite loose. I pull it up, revealing a metal box with a lock on it.

I pull it out slowly, cradling it in my hands as I look to where it was, unable to find a key. Sighing, I put the floorboard back and stand up. I have a feeling I won't be able to find the key. I take the box back to my room, sitting on the carpet as I try to figure this out.

Maybe I could try and pick the lock? But I don't know how... Sighing, I lay down, staring up at the ceiling. There's probably only one other person I know who could pick a lock. 

Carefully, I slide my window open, feeling the warm summer breeze touch my skin. I climb out, quiet, as to not alert Ford that I'm sneaking out. I glance around, finding my bike leaning against the stupid totem pole and I pedal down the road into town.

I can feel the metal box in my pocket, poking me as I soar down the road. I'm lucky the road is empty or I'd get run over. 

As soon as I'm in Gravity Falls, I pedal faster, turning into the cemetery where I know Robbie will be. "Vickie?" I heard his voice call out to me. I brake immediately, turning to see my boyfriend staring awkwardly at me.

"Robbie, I need your help," I tell him, setting my bike down as I pull the box out of my pocket. "Can you open this?" I ask him, handing it to him. He inspects it, running his fingers over the lock.

"I could probably pick this," he tells me. "Do you have a paper clip or something?" he asks and I quickly search my pockets, not finding anything.

"Sorry," I grin sheepishly.

"That's fine, we'll just have to get one from my house," he tells me and we walk up the cemetery path towards the Valentino house. He quickly runs in, leaving me on the porch as he goes to look for something small enough to open it with.

Eventually, he walks out. "Find anything?" I ask him, watching as he shows me a paper clip. I then observe as he fiddles with the lock for quite some time until we hear the click that signifies that it's been unlocked.

"There, I got it," he tells me, handing me the box without opening it. Slowly, I remove the lock and shove the box in my pocket, planning to open it when I get back home.

"Thanks," I tell him.

"No problem," he states, then pauses, "Are you going to tell me what this is about?" It's a valid question but I'm not even sure where to begin. When I don't answer, he just kisses me on the forehead and tells me, "It's fine if you don't want to tell me things, y'know."

"I- uh... sorry. I'm not even sure what it is. You're just the only person I could trust about this," I tell him and he smiles.

"Well, I'm glad you trust me," he grins, "Good night." Then he heads inside. Quickly, I run down the path back to where my bike is. I hop on, pedaling with all my might towards the woods where the Shack is.

The box pokes me with every pedal but I don't care. I need to figure out what this is.

I set my bike back where it was and crawl back through my window, quietly slipping into my room. I kick off my shoes and pull out the box. I hesitate for almost a second before I open it, seeing a piece of paper and a locket inside.

I unfold the paper, instantly recognizing the handwriting from weeks of obsessively reading my mother's diary. This is a note from her.

Dear Stanford Pines,

I am writing to you as your daughter, Amelia Pines. By now, you would have heard the news of my passing and I want you to know I exist. I'm sorry we never had a relationship, but I have a daughter myself and someone has to take care of her.

The only thing I have to give her is a locket. Please give it to her on her 16th birthday and let her know I will always love her and watch over her. Tell her that I'm sorry I had to leave her but I had no choice. I had to protect her and this was the only way.

My sweet little Victoria will have to learn to live in a world without her mother. Even through death, I will never forgive myself for leaving her.

Love, your daughter

I know how she died. I do.

I wasn't even supposed to have this locket just yet. I regret ever searching through Stan's room. Oh, and poor Stan must have read this knowing full-well that my mom was not his daughter, knowing full well I wasn't his granddaughter and still deciding to take care of me. It makes me want to cry.

I hold the locket in my hand, the cold porcelain against my skin as I unlatch it and relatch it around my neck. I open it, finding a picture of my mother inside. I feel closer to her than I've ever felt before.

"Victoria?" a voice rings out and I freeze. "Victoria," it calls out again and a figure materializes in my room, bearing the face of my mother.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: *cue dramatic music cue* hehe enjoy this chapter