Hometorius : Coming Home

chapter 17 : The Blue Candle

Fleur POV

"Now I am going to ask you a few questions and you will answer, d'accord [T/N: okay?]?" I said in a bit gentler tone (or at least that's what I thought, at least I tried to sound gentler) "How do they call you?"

"Marylin. Marylin Dark."

"Where do you come from?"

"I'm from Poland. I've already said that."

"Who are you?"

"Just a normal girl."

"Why are you here?"

"I wish I knew."

"Who is he?" I nodded toward where that annoying spirit sat from the very beginning.

"That's my friend."

"Tell me more."

"No, I don't want to talk about it," Marylin replied and sank farther in the chair.

"Parlez! Immédiatement! [T/N: speak, immediately]" I yelled, then stood up and, leaning over her chair, looked into her eyes.

"I can tell-" the ghost said quietly but I cut him short.

"Je ne t'ai pas laissé parler! [T/N: I did not let you speak]" I burst out. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out through my pursed lips. "Please, tell me something more, um ...?"

"Sam," he introduced himself.

"Sam," I repeated (though I was screaming in my mind that I did not let him speak). "Tell me something about yourself, Sam, d'accord [okay]?"

"I was murdered on one of the meadows nearby. Today."

"I understand. That's enough for me," I cut him short again (I really understood it though) and turned to Marilyn. "And now for the last question."

"Alright..."

"I... did not... let you... speak!" I hissed through my teeth. "Well, bien [T/N: fine]... Joseph. You know him? Anything rings the bell?"

Marylin looked into my caramel eyes with slight fear. She thought about what to say. She was looking for Sam's support, but she didn't find it; he just shrugged. She started looking around the cottage. I could almost hear her thoughts: "white walls, brown shutters, a straw roof: a typical cottage".

"I see that you do know him," I answered for her (which was probably quite polite of me, right?). I also added that she most likely knows as much as I do.

"Which means...?" she did not quite understand.

"Le rien [T/N nothing]," I cut it short once again and went back to the kitchen, to my grandmother.

I closed the door behind me, so they didn't see that I could see what they were doing through a tiny peephole. Sam scooted over towards the black-haired (oh and I so envied her hair) with his chair and stroked her head. Apparently, he didn't have much idea what to say. So he sat there and stroked her velvet hair. I don't know what for though, he couldn't feel anything anyway. They stayed like that until my return.

"Wait for lunch," I demanded after returning from the kitchen. "When it gets dark, la mémé [T/N: grandma] will tell legends."

"Sure. With pleasure," Marylin said without thinking.

'Je ne t'ai pas laissé parler!' [I did not let you speak]

"Maybe let's go to my room. We can chat there a bit, d'accord [okay]?