My name is Seamus. Yeah, I know. Pronounced Shay-muss. I come from an Irish family. We came to America a few years before I was born. My father ran a Bar and nightclub until he and my mother were killed in a plane crash when I was 25. I had been living on my own for a few years at that point, working a steady job at a goth nightclub alongside a good friend of mine, Johnny, who was half Irish and half Japanese. I had to take a month off of work to deal with all the arrangements. They were thankfully understanding. Johnny was there for me the whole time, and his little sister Alice would come over with him now and again. She was such a cute little thing, with her almond-shaped brilliant green eyes, pale skin, and slightly ruddy cheeks. She'd sit with me for hours at a time playing videogames and listening to music, and being surprisingly intelligent for a 10 year old. Johnny would joke that she had a crush on me and she'd poke him in the ribs and tell him to stop. I was incredibly thankful for their company in my time of need. A couple months later the funeral was held, and dad, a former IRA fighter, was a devout catholic, so we had a catholic service and burial, Father Davis once again asking me to come to sunday service. I politely refused, as always. I've not cared for religion since I was a child.
After a couple more months, I decided to leave my job at the club and head off to college to get a degree. I said goodbye to my friends, little Alice giving me a great big hug, and off I went. A few years later I had a few trade licenses under my belt, and I got to work as a contractor back home. It was slow going at first, but after a few months I had a pretty decent business going, and had purchased a nice apartment and a motorcycle. Johnny had been busy, and called me up to go over and hang out that weekend. I had a job I was headed to early saturday but promised to show up afterwards.
That saturday I headed out to the job site, where they wanted me to assist in rewiring some office building undergoing renovations. Sweaty, dirty work, and by the end of it I was tired, sweaty, and covered in some kind of plastic dust. A promise is a promise, though, so I headed over to Johnny's place with a quick stop for a bottle of whiskey and a quick change of clothes at home. His house was gorgeous. His parents had purchased this little run-down old victorian house, fixed it up, and sold it to him under the instruction that he let Alice live there too so she could go to school in the city, then they moved on to flip another house. Apparently they'd been doing this for years before him and I had met at the club. Perfect house for a goth, really. Green shingles, dark red brick, and green wooden siding. I knocked at the door, and Johnny opened it with a big grin on his face.
"Great to see you, man. How've you been?" He said, motioning me inside.
"Eh, not too bad. The contract work i
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