ST; DoFT; 7

ST; DoFT; 7

Rosalie had left the confused man behind her as she continued on her way. She became more and more lost as she went. It was daybreak when she first escaped. Now it was starting to get dark again. She looked up at the street sign. She was now, without a doubt, hopelessly lost. There was a large building down the street. She walked up to a little figure dressed in dirty boy clothes. He was throwing rocks at the windows of the house.

“Excuse me? What is this place?” She pointed at the building the boy was throwing rocks at. The boy fixed his hat and looked up at her. It was really a little girl!

“I finks this is the judge’s house, missus. Ah least, I should hope so.” She continued throwing rocks at it. Rosalie hesitantly went up to the door and knocked. She turned to warn the girl but she was already gone.

“Oh good, you’re here!” A hand pulled her inside. She let out a shout of surprise as she stumbled in over the doorway. The strange man looked her up and down. “Hm… I wonder where they found you..?” He had a nasally voice.

“Excuse me… I actually came here to see the judge…”

“I know, I know! He’s in there…” He pointed to a halfway opened door. Rosalie made her way towards it, and opened it the rest of the way. Nobody was there. Only books. It was a library!

“I haven’t seen one of these since the beach house when I was a little girl!” She smiled. “I might as well look around while I’m here.” She came up to one of the shelves, and fingered along the books. She read each one of the titles, smiling a little more with each one.

“Who are you?” asked a voice. She whipped around. The man who asked about the barber shop! What was he doing here? “Miss Ashton?” He asked; eyes wide in terror. She was shocked. Why would he be afraid?

“Yes? I came here to ask the judge for a map, if they might have one.”

“She was… Called away for an important meeting.”

“Oh. Well, then… What’re you doing here?”

“I, uh… Was looking for her too. I just got the news she had left.” His words were rushed. She cocked an eyebrow, smile fading a little. “I… Would be willing to find one for you. if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. Thank you.” Her smile returned. He picked up a small pamphlet from the desk and handed it to her. She took it and started to leave.

“Miss Ashton…” She turned back towards him. “Would you mind… If I walked you back to wherever you’re going?” He was blushing a little.

“Sure. I was just heading back to me shop. We can finish talking about the barber place upstairs.” The man sighed in relief.

………………………………………..

The shop door opened. Rosalie looked around quickly. Neither of the ghosts was there.

“Alright then. All you need is here… But… I need to know your name.” She showed him all of Sweeney’s barbering supplies. She was still glancing around every so often.

“Carson Benton…” He mumbled.

“Alright, then, Carson. You start…”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, then.” she nodded quietly. He turned and left, not another word came out of him. She suddenly felt tired, the gloom of the room getting to her. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. How long had she slept last night, she didn’t know. It was cut so short by that dream.

That dream.

She shuddered remembering it. The cold, hard feeling it left behind. But seeing James in it. He was in all of her dreams since he died. Since they met, actually. But since he died, she had always been at that piano, playing music, and James would always have that loving heartfelt look on his face.

She slumped down into the barber’s chair, forgetting why she had run away in the first place. She fell asleep quickly.

“Hey, you. Wake up.” Sweeney whispered harshly. “Wake up.” He shook her slightly. Her head lolled, and another drop of drool fell onto the chair arm. “Yech. Stupid woman. Get out of my chair.” She mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep. “Get up! I don’t need your disgusting slobber all over my chair!” He shook her roughly. She finally opened her eyes slowly.

“Mm… Mr. T?” She mumbled sleepily. Her eyes shot open. “Mr. Todd, what are you doing?! Let go of me!” He let go of her and she went tumbling over the side of the chair.

“I knew it, right from the start you were up to no good! You’re such a pervert!” She shouted, face pink. He was shocked at first, and then suddenly got angry.

“I am not! You’re the one who fell asleep in my chair in the first place! Get out!”

“Gladly!” she spat on his chair angrily. She meant to spit on the floor, but being a klutz, she had bad aim. “Oops…” She looked back at Sweeney, whose face was extremely red. “I… Uh…”

“OUT!!” Rosalie jumped and started for the door. She tripped, and Sweeney flinched every step of the way down. He slammed the door behind her, and immediately got to scrubbing the dark spots where she had drooled away.

“Stupid women… The last thing I need is them dirtying up my space…” He glanced back over at the picture of his wife. The lad from before didn’t even question it. Was he even paying attention to anything around him?

“Mr. T…?” Ms. Lovett opened the door slowly. “There you are!” She came inside. “What’s wiff all the trouble, now? First you’re dancing wiff… What’s this now?” Ms. Lovett bent over, picking up Rosalie’s silver ring. “I didn’t think she was the type to cheat on ‘er husband.” Ms. Lovett said mischievously. Suddenly the door burst open, Rosalie was panting out of breath.

“Give… It… Back…” She said angrily, an icy edge to her voice.

“Now, love. I haven’ seen you like this…” Ms. Lovett said nervously. She was actually pretty… Scary when she was angry. Ms. Lovett took a step backwards. She glanced from the ring to Rosalie before giving it back. “Who was it, anyway?” Ms. Lovett asked. “Your husband… Where is he?”

“Dead…” She muttered as she slipped the ring back on. Rosalie seemed to be a little out of it.

“Oh…”

“Murdered… By… That… Man…” Rosalie stared at her hand for a moment, clenching and unclenching it, before letting out an exasperated sigh. She left the upstairs room, carefully going down the steps. Ms. Lovett suddenly looked relieved.

“I had no idea. She’s always so cheerful. Just about gave me a heart attack, that look she gave me. You’re not listening again, are you?” In fact, he was staring out the window, stroking one of his ‘friends’.