Random VT Shorts

The Story of Mary Toast pt. 2

A few days later

Ghost's pov: There she was. The shell of what once was my best friend's bride lay in a casket. She looked so peaceful, but her skin was cold and waxy. I tried not to stare at Toast. I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. But I did give him quick glances from time to time. Surprisingly, he wasn't crying, but he seemed to have a solemn air about him. After the fateful wedding, Toast had gone straight to his room in our tiny apartment, and hadn't come out until he had to make dinner. One night, I had found him in the hallway, moaning to himself and calling her name. The next morning, he said he remembered nothing. It was hard to see him like this. For the first time, Toast seemed....broken. It was making me worried. I thought it was me who was going insane. That voice. It was getting louder, as if all this death was tearing me apart on the inside. I just hoped I could stay in control. The funeral was boring, as usual. There were people dressed in black, staring at the ground. A bunch of relatives and friends of Mary gave tearful, and dreary eulogies. After what seemed like eons of loved ones using up the tissues, talking about all the good times back when Mary was alive, and creating puddles with their tears, it was Toast's turn to speak.

Toast's pov: I slowly stepped up to the podium, rubbing my ever sweating hands together. I looked over the crowd. Ghost was there, dressed in wrinkled and unkempt sunday clothes. I could see some of my family sitting in the back row. Even Gavin was there, though he was playing with his phone. I gulped, trying to get it together and say something.

"I-i," I stuttered. The people in the crowd stared up at me. I tried again.

"Mary Toast....w-was a fine woman," I was shaking, but I didn't care.

"She was...so kind. N-never in her life did she turn away a fellow human being," my confidence grew as I spoke, "I-i first met her in high school. One day, when I dropped my books...she...she gathered them up for me. I knew then, that she was special. I knew I loved her."

Ghost's pov: Toast went on about his love, and the adventures they both had. It was really a heartwarming story, but, of course, then it had to end.

"That night, at the wedding," Toast's face grew solemn, "I-it was my fault." The entire crowd gasped when Toast admitted this.

"No!", I wanted to say, but I held my tongue. It wasn't his fault! I looked behind me to see Gavin, Toast's twin brother. He was nodding a little. How could he when he knew it wasn't true?!

"W-we were d-dancing," Toast seemed more nervous as he said this, "I-i.....I accidentally...danced too hard." No one knew what to say.

"I committed....British Disco," Toast continued, "The deadly martial art. I killed her. A-and......... I-i'm sorry..." Toast's eyes began to well up with tears, but he didn't bother to wipe them away. I stared at my friend in awe. In that moment, he seemed so alone. So afraid. So small. I wanted to give him a hug. But I could only watch.

Toast's pov: I couldn't see- the world was blurry with my own tears. But I didn't care. I was guilty, and I knew it. I was the one to blame. I had murdered her, though it was not intentional. I was so sorry! I wanted, more than anything, to see Mary's smiling face. But that wish would never come true. My heart was breaking. I looked out at the audience, as my stomach twisted inside of me. The nausea continued as I reached for a tissue, but there were none. I tried to focus, to see Ghost in the crowd, but his face only struck me with more grief. I was a traitor. A stupid, intolerant, lousy, immature, self-minded traitor. I didn't deserve a friend. I didn't deserve Mary! The thought of being forgiven was inconceivable. I don't know how long I stood there, unsure of what to do. All I knew, was that it was longer than I should have. I couldn't even end the eulogy properly. In the end, I just had to step down from the podium, and take the long walk of shame back to my seat. I could feel eyes watching me from every angle. I knew I was a failure.

...later, that night...

Still Toast's pov:

As soon as we got home, I went to my room to cry. Again. I sat down at my old desk, and pulled out a photo of her. She was at the beach, wearing a polka-dot one-piece swimsuit, smiling at the camera. Her hair caught the warm sunlight, and her green eyes sparkled. She was so beautiful. Though she wasn't there, I felt like she was right next to me, whispering comforting words in my ear.

"Johnny, it's alright," she seemed to say, "I'm here, and it's not your fault I wasn't. Don't cry..."

"Mary...", I muttered. In my mind, she kissed my cheek. I almost felt it. Almost. And then I did feel something. It was cold, but something was definitely touching my cheek. I turned around, very slowly. Though the figure was mostly transparent, and seemed to glow with a blue light, I knew exactly who it was.

It was Mary, and she was kissing my cheek. In her ghostly form, she wore her wedding dress, her blonde hair tied in a bun. I could only stare in awe. In my pocket, I could hear my paranormal activity tracker beeping, proving I wasn't going crazy.

"Johnny," She whispered, her voice echoing through the walls of my room. She floated in front of me, wrapping me in a cold embrace.
"M-Mary," I choked back sobs, "I... I'm so sorry!" I tried to return her hug with one of my own, but my arms went right through her.

"Don't be," she responded, her ghostly fingers petting my hair, "Please. I don't like it when you're sad." Though her touch was like ice, I felt warm inside. For a few moments, we just stood there, embracing each other. Then her lips pressed against mine, in a final, cold kiss. I knew I was forgiven.

"I have to go, now," she said, as she pulled away, "I can't stay." She smiled, sadly.

"I understand," I nodded, "I'll miss you."

"I will too, Jonathan," she replied, and I smiled at her use of my full name. I watched as she turned, and floated over to the other side of the room. She turned to look back at me, waving in farewell. Then, with tears in her eyes, she faded into the wall. And she was gone. But, instead of crying, I smiled. It wasn't right to mourn over her, when she would have preferred that I let go. She was on her way to a better place, free from pain.

"Goodbye, my lady," I whispered into the night, "Mary." And, for the first time since she had passed, I felt calm, peaceful even. And I was happy.