Ginger Snaps - Haunted

Brigitte stared at Sam’s hand for just a second before she took it. Sam beamed as she did so, and he pulled her to her feet. As soon as she was up however, Brigitte dropped Sam’s hand and ducked her head.
“You wanna get changed before we go?” Sam asked. Brigitte looked up at him, confused.
“Go? Go where? We’re fine here,” She said. Sam simply gestured around the room.
“We don’t have the money to pay for these damages, we have to get the hell out of here!” he said with a smirk. “I do think you should get changed though... you have blood, bits of glass and water all over you. Not the best look.” Brigitte looked down at herself.
“Oh... yeah... um bring me my bag in and give me a minute,” she said. Sam smiled and left the bathroom. He returned with Brigitte’s bag, and a small first aid kit.
“Let me deal with that cut first,” he said, indicating the gash on Brigitte’s forehead. Brigitte gingerly reached up and touched the wound. It felt deep. She blushed in embarrassment when she realised she had done that to herself. “It’s not too deep, but I do need to stitch it... don’t worry, like I said before, I’ve got a doctor friend...”
“It’s not that... it’s just... don’t you think I’m... weird or something?” Sam tilted his head in confusion. “You know... for doing this... to myself?” Brigitte whispered as she pulled her hand away from her head and examined the blood. Sam smiled.
“I’ve done shit like that before... we all do it Brigitte... it’s not weird at all.” He said as he fumbled in his bag for anaesthetic and clean needles. He found them and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves before starting to set up.
“You’ve... hurt yourself? On purpose?” Brigitte asked. Sam gave her a grim look, but refused to meet her eyes. He sighed. This was a door that he didn’t really want to open. But he would... for Brigitte.
“When I was in high school, before I started doing drugs, I was ill... really ill. I was cutting myself and shit. My mom had me see a shrink... he said I was depressed. I wouldn’t talk to him though, so mom stopped paying for me to go... in hindsight I should have talked to him... I... I...”
“You slit your wrist,” Brigitte interrupted in a matter of fact tone. Sam was surprised at how calm she was, and that she knew at all.
“How...how did you know?” Sam whispered.
“When I felt your wrist for a pulse the other night... I felt the scar.” She whispered as if she invaded his privacy. Sam smiled and placed a hand on her cheek.
“So I know how you feel,” he whispered, and, without another word, proceeded to clean the cut in her forehead.
“You’re better now?” Brigitte whispered as Sam injected the anaesthetic. He frowned.
“I hope so... I turned to drugs to deal with all the shit that was going on in my head, and it went away.”
“But you still do drugs,” Brigitte whispered. Sam didn’t know what to say. Should he tell her he was effectively ‘sober’ since the monkshood? She’d only worry that he’d slip back into his depression. That was not the best thing for her right now.
“Yeah,” he whispered. Sam decided it was time to change the subject. “Can you feel this?” he asked as he put pressure on the skin around her cut.
“No,” she whispered. She closed her eyes as Sam nodded and came at her with the surgical needle and thread. Despite being obsessed with death, she hated needles. She kept them closed as she felt a strange pulling and tugging above her left eye. Finally, it stopped.
“All done Brigitte,” Sam said. He pulled off his gloves and started to pack away his equipment. Brigitte opened her eyes and felt the newly stitched wound. “5 stitches,” Sam muttered. “I’ll let you get changed,” he muttered as he gathered up his bag. As soon as he was out of sight, Brigitte pulled some clothes from her bag and swiftly changed. Sam was waiting by the van for her when she eventually left the hotel room.
“Okay lets amscray,” he said as he lit another cigarette. “Got every-“ Sam let his cigarette drop as he caught sight of Brigitte. She wasn’t wearing her usual cover-all sweater and skirt. She was wearing a pair of dark jeans that were loose over her legs, but snug over her hips and a semi-loose green vest top. Her usual coat was slung over her arm. “Brigitte your clothes...” Sam muttered after a few long seconds of silence. Brigitte gave a small embarrassed smile and blushed.
“I um... well... brought these clothes... but Ginger... she um... wouldn’t let me where them...” Brigitte muttered from behind her hair.
“You look beau- um... you look nice...” Sam muttered as he himself ducked his head. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked his feet across the gravel. Brigitte blushed even harder, and scrambled into the passenger side of the van to avoid replying.
“So where to?” Brigitte asked as Sam, slammed shut his door. Sam pulled out a map from under his seat, he opened it and pointed out a small town.
“Well here’s where we are, I reckon we should get as far away from here as possible,” he said with a smile. “I’m thinking here, Kingston, it’s not too big, and it’s not too small. I reckon I’ll be able to find work... I mean it’s right on the edge of the country side, I’ll be able to find work easy. Then maybe we can find somewhere more permanent...” Sam caught a glimpse of the nervous expression on Brigitte’s face. “Well... it’s up to you, if you have family or someplace else you wanna go, then I’ll take you...”
“No. I want to go with you. My gene pool isn’t exactly average.” Brigitte muttered with a smile. “So Kingston it is,” Sam nodded, lit another cigarette and started the car.
It wasn’t until late that night that Sam and Brigitte finally got settled in their motel room. Sam had spent most of the day looking for a job while Brigitte had gone to the local library to look up the local high schools. Neither was very successful, and both had returned to the hotel deflated and depressed. Neither really talked to the other, they just ate dinner and slumped in front of the TV. Eventually both slipped into bed. Sam fell straight to sleep, but Brigitte lay in bed, and for a while, watched the gentle rise and fall of Sam’s chest. He seemed happy in his sleep, he was smiling, and his lips were moving as if he were talking to someone. Brigitte couldn’t help but smile herself at the sight of him. He was so adorable...
“Brigitte...” Sam muttered in his sleep as he turned over and hugged his pillow. Brigitte’s eyes widened in a mixture of embarrassment and horror. She turned over, shut her eyes and forced herself to sleep.
Sam was shuffling from foot to foot, his head ducked. In his hand was a bunch of purple flowers. Purple because that was Brigitte’s favourite colour. He was nervous... very nervous. But he didn’t understand why! He spent all his time with Brigitte, they often slept in the same bed and they were good friends. So why should a date make him nervous?
“Sam?” Brigitte’s voice shocked Sam, but he looked up and smiled. Brigitte hadn’t dressed up like any other date would, she had worn her normal clothes. A plain, dark grey t-shirt and jeans. There was something about that fact that Sam loved. They didn’t have to pretend with each other, they could be themselves.
“Hey Brigitte,” Sam whispered. For some reason he was frozen to the spot. He couldn’t move. Not even to hug her. “Um... these are... well, they’re for you,” he said as he held out the bunch of violets. Brigitte beamed. The smile lit up her whole face. For a few seconds, Sam could only stare.
“Did you hear what I said?” Brigitte said. She was standing next to Sam now, and had placed a hand on his shoulder. Sam jumped at the contact and shook his head. Brigitte laughed. “I said ‘the flowers are beautiful, thank you,’” Sam blushed.
“Purple’s your favourite colour,” he whispered. Brigitte nodded.
“So where too?” She asked as she linked her arm with Sam’s. Sam couldn’t believe how calm Brigitte was being. Wasn’t she as nervous as he was?
“Um, maybe we could just, you know, go for a walk down the river... maybe pick up a pizza or something?” Sam said. He really didn’t want to take Brigitte anywhere as conventional as a fancy restaurant.
“Sounds great,” Brigitte said, and they walked towards the river.
It was dark before they even realized how late it was. They had spent most of the day just talking. The conversation had flown from subject to subject without pause.
“No way! You did not come up with the idea for ‘friends’, you’re such a liar Sam!” Brigitte said as she gave him a playful shove on the shoulder.
“I did! I came up with it, I swear... someone soooo stole it!” Sam grinned. Brigitte rolled her eyes.
“Sure, I believe you, really, I do...” She said with a mocking smile. Sam suddenly lunged at her. He collided with her, his hands on her shoulders, and they tumbled down the hill on which the where sitting. The rolled down it together, giggling and wrestling playfully. Finally they stopped, Sam atop of Brigitte. The pair froze, both staring into the others eyes. Suddenly, Sam bent down, and pressed his lips to Brigitte’s in one swift movement. When he moved back Brigitte’s eyes were shinning. “That was sort of... nice,” she whispered.
Sam awoke with a start. He couldn’t believe that he’d dreamt of dating Brigitte... kissing Brigitte... Sure he’d thought of her in that way, but he’d never realised how deep his feelings were. He was in love with Brigitte... completely, and hopelessly in love with her.
“Shit...” Sam whispered. How had he let this happen? A crush was fine but love..? Way to make their relationship that little bit more complicated. Sam rolled over, and tried to convince himself that his dream, was just a dream. However, he had a little trouble rolling onto his front, considering the fact that he had an erection. “FUCK!” Sam scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to wake Brigitte. Especially not with... well that! Sam slipped to the floor the second the door closed. He didn’t know what to do. Dare he take care of it? With Brigitte in the next room? Or should he just have a cold shower? “Fuck I need this...” Sam whispered, as he reached up and locked the door. What Brigitte didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and hey, even if she did know, how would he know who he was thinking about? Sam slipped his hand inside his boxers. He gasped at his own touch. Despite knowing it was his own, he felt Brigitte’s fingers around him. He felt a split second of shame, but that was immediately over come as he began to move his hand up and down. He started off slow, imagining that Brigitte would be nervous and unsure. “That’s good...” he muttered to the Brigitte he could see behind his eye lids. He speed up, faster and faster as he imagined Brigitte’s confidence growing. Far too soon he felt that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach as his orgasm hit... He didn’t know what had made him cum so soon. Whether it be thinking off Brigitte, or because of the events of the last few days, he didn’t care, because the second he snapped back to reality, he was filled with an over whelming sense of shame. Brigitte was 15, and his friend. How could he think off her in that way? How could he touch himself like that whist thinking about her touch? Sam felt sick. He was a terrible, disgusting person... Sam wiped his hands off on a towel and hung his head in shame.
“I love you more...” Sam whispered as he gently kissed the top of Brigitte’s head. Brigitte giggled. The couple were lying on their sofa, arms wrapped tight around each other. Neither was paying attention to the TV, only to each other.
“No... I love you more than I even thought possible, so I win,” Brigitte said. Sam laughed.
“I’ll prove it,” he said in a sing song voice.
“Sure you will...” said Brigitte as she curled up against his chest. She knew she was in for a long back and forth-er. She wanted to get comfortable, but also be in a position where she could poke at Sam.
“I will! Go on, ask me to do anything to prove I love you more... go on!” Sam insisted as he moved hair from Brigitte’s face.
“Give birth to a dinosaur!” she said, smirking.
“Something I can actually do!” Sam said with a laugh. Brigitte pondered for a moment. What could she make Sam do...?
“Eat a whole jar or pickles!” Brigitte said after a few seconds. She knew just how much Sam hated pickles. Someone had told him that they were brains when he was very young, and he’d hated them ever since.
“Sure, okay, you go get me some,” Sam said, his voice full of confidence.
“Okay, I’m going,” Brigitte said as she headed into the kitchen. She dug out a fresh jar of pickles from the pantry and headed back to Sam. She held the jar out to him with a smile. “Here. Enjoy!” she said, expecting Sam to reject the jar. But he took it, opened it, and pulled on out.
“Yum!” he said with a grim smile and, without a second thought, he brought it up to his mouth.
“NO!” Brigitte cried, flinging herself on him. Sam dropped the jar and pickle in surprise. “You were really going to do that!” She cried as she wrapped her arms tight around him.
“Of course!” Sam said as he held Brigitte. “I said I’d prove how much I loved you didn’t I?” he whispered as he gently kissed Brigitte’s forehead.
“I just didn’t realise how much you loved me...” she whispered.
“More than anything.”
Brigitte awoke with a smile on her face. She’d had the nicest dream. She wrapped the covers tight around her, deciding that she was going to lose herself in the memory of it, but was soon interrupted.
“That’s disgusting Bee... you’re in love with a fucking drug dealer!” Came Ginger’s voice from across the room. Brigitte groaned and pulled the covers over her head.
“Fuck off Ginger!” she cried, her voice muffled. Ginger laughed.
“I’m not going anywhere Bee,” she said. “You killed me, so I’m gonna be here whenever I feel like it!” Ginger stated.
“I had to kill you Ginger! You were going to kill me!” Brigitte yelled.
“HEY! We had a pact Bee, out by sixteen, or dead in this scene, but TOGETHER FOR FUCKING EVER!” Ginger screamed.
“You ended that pact when you tried to kill me!”
“No, you ended it when you picked Sam over me! And do you know what, I was right about him Bee. He’s just another wank job!”
“Leave Sam out of this! He cares about me!” Brigitte cried. Ginger laughed.
“Oh yeah? Well what do you think he’s doing in the bathroom right now? The only part of you he cares about is between your legs!” she said. Brigitte could sense she was near, but she refused to pull back the covers. “He’s in the bathroom having a wank, and he’s thinking about you!” Ginger was whispering now, her words bitter and harsh.
“I don’t believe you!” Brigitte whispered, but her voice was unsure. Sam was a guy after all... don’t guys have... needs?
“Then listen at the door,” Ginger said in a high voice. She had cracked Brigitte and she knew it.
“Fine, but only to prove you wrong Ginger!” Brigitte cried. She leapt out of bed, and tried not to look at Ginger, she didn’t want to go crazy again like she had in the last motel.
“Listen...” Ginger encouraged as Brigitte placed her ear against the door.