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It had been a few weeks since Becky had scared out the family that had once inhabited the apartment she called her home, and she finally thought the dumbass landlord would get the hint that maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop renting out the apartment to people from the public, but Brock had always been a money hungry prick, even when the redhead was still amongst the land of the living, which is why she wasn't surprised to overhear him talking about how some 20 something had signed a lease for the apartment and she knew that if she still had blood running through her veins, it would be boiling.
“Stupid fucking living people and their stupid fucking selfish desires.” The Irishwoman cursed as she sat against the cracked island situated in the middle of the kitchen. The crack in the marble brought her back to a darker time, when she had died to be exact, so she normally never dwelled on the time, but Becky was so angry right now that she didn't even care that she was sitting where she had taken her last dying breath. Being dead had its perks she had to admit, and she normally used them to get the scoop on other tenants of the crummy set of apartments, which is how she knew to be prepared for when the newest threat to her terrain arrived later on that afternoon.
“My old tricks just aren't working the way they used to, I've gotta step up my game. I mean I'm a fucking ghost for God's sake, I should have came preprogrammed with the ability to make people automatically shit their pants by doing nothing.” Becky ranted as she began pacing the length of the kitchen back and forth, her eyes flitting to the crack on the island ever so often to keep her anger at its highest point, which was high even for her being dead and all, and that's how she continued until she heard the lock begin to twist on the front door, and the redhead knew it was game time.
“The apartment isn't much, but it'll feel like home before you know it.” She heard Brock say as the door began pushing itself open, and the redhead rolled her eyes at the condescending tone the new tenant seemed to not pick up on. Becky settled into one of the barstools as the door finally opened all the way up, and over the threshold stepped the cutest girl she thinks she had ever seen before, ever. Her blonde and pink dyed hair was twisted into two braids that settled against her cream colored collar bone, and her tank top revealed a scattering of freckles on each arm, and a small infinity sign etched onto her wrist. Her ripped blue jeans did very little to hide the bruises covering her kneecaps, but no one seemed to notice that much about the blonde, not even Brock who was very openly staring down her shirt as she looked around the small apartment with an expression the redhead could not identify.
“It's enough to keep a roof over my head isn't it?” The small blonde finally spoke for the first time, and Becky just stared at her as she spoke, almost memorized by the way she carried herself, and the way she spoke in a tone almost as condescending as the one Brock had used earlier on her. The Irishwoman couldn't fight back the smile that threatened to overtake her at his expression, and he left with a scowl and something Becky couldn't hear even with her abilities. Once the girl was alone, it was almost like she let her walls down by the way she slumped against the wall by the door and rested her head back against it.
“Home sweet home.” The girl muttered bitterly to herself, and Becky could have sworn she saw the shine of unshed tears reflected in her blue eyes, but the shine disappeared as quickly as it came, and the blonde was up off the floor and halfway to the kitchen before she could even blink. The redhead knew she wasn't in the way of the smaller girl, but she still felt obligated to step away from her as she settled down into the barstool Becky herself had just occupied not even 10 minutes before. Something about the girl was perpetually sad, like she was living with a secret or something even too heavy for her to bear, and she felt something that could have been labeled remorse if she were still living.
“Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it.” The blonde scolded herself as she scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hands, and she stood up and went down the hall, presumably to go to the bathroom. Becky stayed planted in the kitchen, and the idea of going through the blonde's bag seemed tempting, but even she had standards, so she pushed the idea to the furthest corner of her mind, and went to occupy her time elsewhere. Becky didn't go far of course, she knew that she was bound to the apartment building because of what had happened to her there, so she decided to go and mess with a few people she hadn't really liked when they were her neighbors before she died. The blonde girl with the pigtails remained on her mind the entire time she was gone from the apartment, so the redhead returned a few hours later out of boredom.
“Yeah mom, things are fine here.” She heard the blonde say in an exasperated tone, and she barely had enough time to settle into the barstool before the tears began to fall. Becky was shocked to say the least, but she sat by vacantly as the girl cried into the phone, her speech mumbled but her pain palpable, and the redhead felt what could only be labeled as sadness.
“No, I haven't talked to Buddy since I left last week. I don't plan on seeing him again until we have to go to court.” Becky's eyebrows furrowed as she listened in on the conversation, and she assumed that the man in question had been the blonde's previous significant other, probably the one that had bruised her up just for the hell of it, and it made the Irishwoman mad to think of any man putting their hands on the person they claimed to love. There was a long stretch of silence, and the girl's face fell as she clutched her phone tightly in her hand, and the nod she gave represented everything negative she was most likely feeling at that moment. She took the phone away from her ear and laid it face down on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her legs as her mother continued to rant about things she wasn't concerned with.
“I just want things to be okay with you again Alexa, you know that's all your father and I have ever wanted since you were in high school.” The woman said in what was supposed to be in an endearing tone, but Becky could feel the disappointment oozing from her words. Becky knew because that's the same way her mother used to talk to her before she left Ireland and came to America, hoping to escape all of the pent up rage she had towards her family for not being as involved in her life as they were in her brothers.
“I know mom, I know. I have a lot of unpacking to do actually so I'll talk to you sometime tomorrow. Tell dad and everyone that I love them.” Alexa said sharply, leaving no room for more conversation because she hung the phone up shortly afterwards and laid on the couch, her blue eyes trained on the ceiling above her. Becky watched her from her place by the window, wondering just how much emotional pain the blonde was concealing, and as she continued to stare at her, she could have sworn she saw the small girl shiver.
“Who's there?” Alexa said, her voice shaky as she stood up and looked around the room, rubbing at her still exposed arms as she did so. Becky winced as she discovered what her presence could do to the blonde if she was around her long enough, so she stood as still as possible and waited for the girl to retire back to the couch, only, she didn't. To the redhead's horror(and deep rooted anger), Alexa walked over to the island and traced a manicured fingernail over the crack, the one that signified the end of Becky's days, and a look of pain flashed across her face.
“I know you probably don't want to reveal yourself to me now and that's okay, but just know that I don't mind coexisting with a trapped soul, I don't because I'm one too so I understand.” Alexa whispered, stepping away from the island and disappearing down the hall, leaving Becky in a state of shock and confusion. Becky didn't understand how the small blonde could say such a statement so nonchalantly, but she supposed that the girl had said it so much that it became almost natural for her to relay, so she didn't dwell on it too much, because it really wasn't her place to do so anyways. She heard noises from her place by the back door, and she waited patiently until the noise ceased to finally brave going down the hallway and into where the blonde was sleeping.
“You're fine Becky, you're fine.” The redhead said softly to herself as she stood in front of the cracked bedroom door, the moonlight illuminating through the window just enough to highlight Alexa's high cheekbones, and the stain of tears. Becky was feeling so many emotions right now; confusion, sadness, and maybe a little bit of anger too, but as she watched the blonde sleep soundly in her room, she was sure of absolutely one thing -
She wanted her to stay.