The Girl With A Synthetic Halo

Katharine was born in 1898 in the late Victorian era. She was literally dropped off at the doorstop of an orphanage. She doesn't know her birthday, she doesn't know her parents, and she doesn't know her last name. She doesn't even know her ethnicity. All she knows is that she stopped aging sometime in the 1920's. The mafia attempted to murder her and her love, but they only succeeded in taking her love, not her life. Almost a century later, Niall falls into her life. A descendant of her true love, and his spitting image, and after she finds out what she is, he becomes some one she needs to protect with her life.

A/N: So my first story on here, and I don't really know where I'm going with it. But Give me opinions, and I don't think that 'The Girl With A Synthetic Halo' is accurate, because her halo is real. So ideas??(:


3. His Story.

The same blue eyes, that were lifeless decades ago, looked at me with shock. "I didn't mean to startle you.." He says lightly with concern.

"You're fine," I say, composing myself "I'm Katharine Jones." Introducing myself with the last name that I'd adopted.

"I'm Niall Horan," He says with a slight smile and an alluring Irish accent "It's nice to meet you."

We started talking and I made sure to target the conversation more towards him. Where he's from: Born in Vegas, moved to Ireland when he was five, just moved back. Age: 22, barely legal to drink in America. Moved back: For his grandfather's funeral, decided to stay awhile. His grandfather's name: Robert William.

"You know, me grandfather had a younger brother, who was killed by the gangsters. He had a lover who was involved in with the main man, and she looks uncannily like you." He states with intrigue.

"Really?" I ask with genuine shock. So he was a descendant of Jack... That makes more sense. Then, I lie. "My grandmother had a sister named Katharine, who I'm named after, who died the same way..." 

"That must be the resemblance" He says with a little bit of reassurance.

"Yeah..." I say quietly. It gets a little bit awkwardly silent for a moment, then he starts chuckling.

"It's a small world isn't it?" He asks

"Yeah, it is," I say with a smile "But your grandfather was from Vegas, so what brings you to Portland?" I ask, slightly puzzled.

"Well, my grandfather never quite got over his brothers death, and he felt that it never added up. So it some how led him here."

"How did it never add up?"

"When the police finally recovered Jack's body, Katharine was no where to be found. There was a grave right next to his and hundreds of bullet casings, but no remains. He became convinced that Katharine had some how lived. I guess he worked in the same club that Jack bar tendered at, and he thought that there was something off about her, like she wasn't quite.... Human. He would always describe her to me as 'The woman who had the face of an angel and the wits of a devil'. And so far, I could say the same about you. You know most of my story and we've only been here for an hour, yet I know nothing about you."

I stiffen, and compose myself, once again tonight. How can he catch me off guard so easily? "Well, there really isn't much to tell," I say carefully "I was born and raised in Portland, by my mom, who was a single mother, she was murdered, and I became a P.I." Lies, Lies, Lies. But he can't know the truth.

"And my story is more interesting?"

"To me, it is." I say with a sly smile.

"So your mom was killed?" He asks.

"Yeah, but I don't care much for talking about it..." I trail off. I don't want to lie more.

He nods and gets a look of understanding on his angelic face. The bartender gets me another beer, seeing as how I had already finished my first one, gagging it down. I scrunch my nose in slight disgust. I remember when I went through my drinking phase in the 50's, and wonder how in the sane hell could I have done it. I remember all of a sudden: It was when the pain had consumed me, and I wanted to die. I don't know how many times I got alcohol poisoning, but of course, my system healed me.  I must have been quiet for a while because suddenly, Niall spoke.

"You look just like her, you know."

"Really? I've never seen her, but my grandmother would tell me stories..." I began. He pulled out his wallet and took out an old black and white picture. It was me, right next to Jack.

"I found this in my grandpa's possessions. I told you, you could be twins. The only difference is the hair."

"I could say the same to you" I giggle. Jack's hair was a caramel brown, slicked back, with a fedora hat on. Niall's was sandy blonde and gelled slightly up in the front. He flashes a smile, and hands me a slip of paper.

"Here's my number, we should do this again, if you want." He says slightly bashfully.

"I'd love to" I say with a true blue smile, a smile that hasn't made its way on to my face since the 20's.


(A/N: Happy Turkey Day! A day late (: Hehehe. So it would make my day if somebody spread the word of my story. I know it's just started but still. I think I'd tear up if I saw a 'like' or maybe even a 'favorite' (:

Much love little movellians!!<3




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