Silver Bells

1: The Case Of The Blueberry Syrup

Ricky sat in his apartment, that was shared by his ex-girlfriend who recently passed away in a car accident more than a few weeks ago. He still has her favorite scented perfume, he still wishes that she would be here. But everyone dies for a reason right?

Her black coffin encased her pale body terribly, the white lace on on her dress  making the funeral more morbid than it already was.

The band was slowly going crazy without the girl, well just Ricky, Darla was bright—happy—but at horrible risk for death. She often got drunk a lot, at one point was doing heavy drugs and was near an overdose twice.

She wasn't dangerous, but it came to the point where the band was either annoyed of her, or loved her.

There was no in between.

Ricky's friend, Charlotte, was sitting in the room with him, worried for her friend.

"Come on, Rick, Christmas is coming. Let's decorate. You have decorations right?"

"Mmph." He was focused on writing, his journal full of clouded thoughts, ones no person could ever understand. At least what he thinks. He was holding back tears, he hates himself, he hates that he told her to go home after an argument.

"RING A FUCKING LING!" Charlotte screams. banging on the wall countless times.

His beautiful girl. He misses Darla, he wants her back, but he wasn't going to raise her from the dead.

Charlotte tugs at her friends jacket impatiently, "If you don't get up I'm going to feed you to the elves, let's go to the store."

Ricky gets up slowly, slipping his shoes on. He already had gotten ready for the day, he wasn't motivated.

"Christmas is the dumbest fucking holiday." Rick seethes, flaring his nostrils as Charlotte grabs her car keys off of his kitchen counter.

"Don't be a little bitch. We're meeting Chris, Ryan, Vinny and Justin at IHop so don't complain." He rolls his eyes, looking at his near-lazy attire in the mirror. He notices the black jeans, a random hoodie, and his vans.

His hair looked like a mop of shit.

"Where is my fucking beanie?" His looks at his friend, seeing it pulled atop of her pretty little lavender hair.

He stands there shocked, memories of his ex girlfriend flooding in his head. She absolutely hated wearing his beanies, so he thought—no girl would ever wear them.

He thought his beanies were ugly because she said they were.

"Ricky?" He shakes his head, finding another black beanie on one of the shelves, pulling it over his head. He feels like he's dying, going on without his love by his side.

Charlotte, on the other hand, had a never ending crush on Ricky, but he never noticed her. Lavender locks, circular wire glasses, plush lips and big blue eyes.

"I'm so used to letting go, but I don't want to be alone. She was good to me." No she wasn't. Darla was only there for the good moments, but when Ricky was breaking down Charlotte was the only one there, even if he never realized it.

"Let's go, you're slow." He really didn't care all that much, as long as he was alive still, he was suffering each and every day.

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Chris pulls the santa hat on his head, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."

"I'm going to eat your fucking head off, Christopher." Ricky warns, not specifying which head exactly, so his friend only smirks.