𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬//𝐭𝐞𝐨𝐭𝐟𝐰

•𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎•

Brooke woke up to her alarm blaring in her ear. She had thought about smashing it more than once, but decided against it. No point in giving her parents another reason to hate her.

The moment she put her feet down on the floor, she immediately raised them back into her bed.

"For fuck's sake! What the hell did I just step in?" She exclaimed to herself. She had a tendency to do that quite often. Talk to herself, that it. Not step in strange puddles.

She peered her head over her bed to see what had spilled onto the floor. The sight churned her stomach. It was a yellow liquid running the length of her bed.

"Seb, I swear to literal god, if this is piss I will kill you!" Her little brother had a tendency to be disgusting, so if he had gotten up early just to pour piss on her floor, it wouldn't surprise her.

She heard laughter ring out from behind her, causing a gasp to escape her lips and a small coughing fit to follow. She turned around to be met with her brother, Sebastian. He was laughing his head off, his entire face cherry red.

"You just gave me a heart attack! I should kill you, you know."

"But you won't 'cause you love me." The 8 year old proclaimed, dragging out the o in love.

"You're lucky I do," Brooke responded. "Now what is on my floor?"

"Freddie's piss! I got it in a bottle this morning!" The little devil sounded proud of himself. Freddie was their 5 year old beagle, who Sebastian had names. He found the idea of a dog with a human name hilarious, for some reason.

"You're disgusting! Now get out of my room or I'm telling mum!" She hadn't even finished her sentence before her brother was waking out. Their mother did not go easy on punishments.

Brooke spent a few minutes trying to remember what she had to do (which happened way too often for someone who had almost the exact same schedule everyday) before getting up.

She only ever spent about 15 minutes getting ready, as she wore the almost simple clothes. Today, that consisted of a black t-shirt with some sort of design on it tucked into a loose pair of jeans. She didn't even give a thought as she slipped on her Converse, as she wore the same pair everyday. Although she knew it would end up in a ponytail at some point in the day, she left her blond hair down.

Once she had her backpack ready, she grabbed breakfast (some toaster waffles) and took her car keys off the counter. She drove a vintage '96 fiat convertible, which may seem a bit odd for a high schooler, but she had wanted one since she was a little girl. She used to stay up watching old movies with her dad where the main character and the hot love interest would drive away in a cherry red convertible.

It would be a lie if Brooke said she didn't buy one partly because it reminded her of better times. Times where she could relax with her parents without fearing their next fight. Sure, it had been expensive, but with odd jobs, allowances, and just plain begging, she had been able to attain the car she dreamed of.

Every morning since she got her license, she had been driving James to school. It was one of the rare moments they had alone while school was in session. With whatever music was on the radio playing throughout the car, the hood down, and the wind blowing through their hair, it was almost always the highlight of both of their days.

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By the time Brooke reaches James's house (which was only a few minutes away), he was already outside waiting for her. He didn't speak a word as he got into the car, keeping his eyes focused on the road in front of them. Brooke began to make her way to school, glancing over to look at her friends every few seconds.

"Are you okay? You seem," she searched for the right word. "Off."

"I'm fine." James responded shortly. Although most people would say that's his normal tone, he would almost never talk like that with Brooke.

That's exactly why the blonde immediately began searching for an empty parking lot to pull into. She needed to figure out what was going on with the boy seated next to her.

"Why did you stop here?" He questioned.

"Something's up with you." The girl responded. She had grown pretty straightforward over the years. " And you're going to tell me what."

"Nothing's wrong, Brooke." James sighed. "I'm just . . . thinking."

"Why will you never tell me what's going on in there?" She gently tapped his head with her palm. "It will forever be one of the world's greatest mysteries. Like why we exist. Or when we'll ever use algebra."

James let out a slight chuckle at her statement. She never failed to make him laugh, even on days like today. Days where he was thinking of murdering someone. You know, the usual.

james's pov:
I'm James, I'm 17, and I'm pretty sure I'm a psychopath. I was eight when I realized I didn't have a sense of humor. At least, not with my dad. Though that's not saying much. I always wanted to punch him in the face.

When I was nine, he bought a deep-fat fryer (he saw it on an American shopping channel). One day, I put my hand in it; I wanted to make myself feel something.

When I was fifteen, I put my neighbor's cat in a box, and took it into the woods. It probably had a name. I killed it. After that, I killed more animals. Rabbits, hamster, birds, mice, butterflies, you name it. I remember every single one.

School was beneath me, but it was a good place for observation and selection. See, I'm planning on killing something bigger. Something much bigger.

Now, this isn't the full story. There's one person I haven't told you about. Brooke. I've know her for as long as I can remember and she's the only reason I would doubt I'm a psychopath. She makes me feel things. Real things. But maybe I'm just not a full psychopath yet; maybe I just need to do something by and then I won't feel anything. Maybe I'm just not fully activated or something.

I haven't told Brooke about half the things I've done, because she's probably kill me. I've lied to her a lot these last few years. It wasn't like this before. But then something changed. I changed. I used to tell her everything. She still tries to make me. But I know that I can't.

I know that she won't leave me, but there's still that fear. She would probably murder someone with me. She's got her own issues she needs to work through. But the only other person who meant the world to me left, so why should Brooke be any different?

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a/n: so now the story's finally starting! alyssa will probably be introduced in the next chapter! what do you guys think of the story so far? do you like james and Brooke's relationship? tell me in the comments! also: whenever it's another character's POV i'll tell you; other than that just assume it's brooke's. hope you all have a good day/night!
-em