Disclaimer: The Corpse Bride, in all it's splendour, is the work of director Tim Burton. The only things in the story are: The story it's self, the concepts, and a few characters. (Concepts and characters must not be copied.)

A/N: Hey guys. Sorry this one took a bit longer, I'm kind of undergoing writer's block. Bear with me though, I'm not giving up just yet. ;D

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Hollow. That was the only word for her, right now. She continuously racked her brains, trying to think of a decent solution to her problem, and got nowhere. Dejection cradled her like a mother holding her child - another thing she didn't want to think about. Emily was so confused, so frustrated, so lonely. It felt as if she had no-one in the world... no-one in her world, at least. She was just hollow.

There were so many things to consider! Virginia was her biggest problem. She couldn't hurt an innocent newborn.

Victoria: The wife of the man she loved; the wife she couldn't hurt either. Stealing Victoria's dreams of a family Van Dort...

Depressing thoughts consumed her.

She looked at her bouquet, twirling the lilies and staring at them sadly. Lilies, for sweetness, of course. Roses for eternal love... Babies Breath...

Emily had to get out of her house. Walls were closing in on her. Windows not showing what was outside, but complete darkness. Mirrors not showing what was outside, but what was inside.

It took all her strength to heave herself off of whatever chair she was sitting on, to leave her house, to drag herself along the desolate streets. In her subconcious mind, she knew that walking away from her problems wouldn't help (Maggot also constantly reminded her of this) but she ignored it.

And suddenly, a bell rung throughout the creepy town.

"NEW ARRIVAL!"

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Joyous, frivolous music played throughout the Ball and Socket. Emily hadn't seen the new arrival yet, nor did she want to.

"Hey, Babe." Bonejangles chorused. Emily giggled.

"Good evening."

"Evening? I thought it was morning..." He replied, laughing.

"I don't suppose it matters."

"What does, now? Death was like a sweet, sweet release from the mundanity and hurt of living. Death is much more peaceful."

"Not with you around, Mr Bonejangles."

He chuckled.

"That's true, that's true... Mr Bonejangles was my father. Call me Bonejangles. You could shorten it to whatever you like, I don't care. Personally, my favourite nickname is Boney J."

Emily laughed.

And then suddenly, the swinging pub fell into sombre silence.

Mrs Plum was sobbing, in her own way.

The new arrival was a child.

Not any child, though.

A newborn.

Emily stared at the baby wide-eyed.

Could it be...?

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Somewhere, up in the Land of the Living, Victor and Victoria Van Dort were grieving. No child deserves such a fate... But how did it happen? Virginia was the most healty, happy baby in the village! Her mere cry supplied a breeze of color to a monochrome world! And yet, her tiny body was in a white pine coffin, her heart never to beat again.