Hello Readers,
Here is a heads up. I am rewriting the earlier chapters in this story. It will most likely be just the first 10-15 chapters. So far, the chapters that have been updated are chapters 1-5, and 6 is coming out within the next few days. I've learned a lot about literature and writing, and have grown considerably since I started this story. So, I want to bring my earlier chapters up to my current level of writing. I will announce when the chapters have been updated, so please give my page a follow to see the update announcements. Also, this chapter is a two-in-one. The confrontation scene seemed a little short to me, so I figured it best to insert another flashback scene that was also too short in my opinion to be its own chapter. Now, without further ado, drown in this ocean of angst! <3
- Your (tired, but) friendly neighborhood Sinner
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He stared down at the cobblestone, the atmosphere of the Saint Louis cemetery burned a hole through his jacket, his vest and shirt, and seared the skin beneath. As he felt those quietus kisses pepper his back, his shoulders bunched and he shivered. The residue of tears, quiet and reserved, lacquered his swollen, pale cheeks. He fought the persuasion to cry more, lest he make a scene and draw attention.
The late afternoon was bright, as if it were any other day, and it only added to the offense. It only made this all the more unbearable; as if the world was indifferent to the loss incurred. He inhaled a sharp breath, glancing at the bouquet of white chrysanthemums. White roses were the first choice; similar to the ones that looked like little clouds plucked from the sky and plastered on Allen's mother's prized bushes. But the market didn't have any, and the rose bushes had finally succumbed to months of neglect, now looking like gnarled, skeletal weeds. Better than nothing, he figured. He turned on his heels, walking past the rusting, iron-barred fence, and into the maze of stone vaults.
The minute he stepped through the threshold, he passed through some sort of veil that separated him from the rest of the world. The sounds of the city faded to silence, and the spring breeze extinguished, leaving the air deathly still. He might as well have been the last man alive. Standing alone amongst those haunting sepulchers and the many bodies entombed within certainly sprang that unnerving feeling of isolation upon him.
Finding any specific marker in this city of the dead would shape up to be a strenuous task for the out-of-towner. Regrettably, he was unable to attend the actual burial, but got wind of a Broussard family plot here after combing through public records.
He maundered through the rows and drifted around the corners of vaults. If another person happened to be visiting this place, they surely would have mistaken his listless movement and pale features for a wandering spirit who escaped its crypt.
An hour of searching had yielded no results. None of the plaques he managed to find bore that familiar name. Frustrated, he pulled out the crumpled scrap of paper to confirm this place again, and he was indeed at the correct churchyard.
The sun was starting to set, and he could hear the metallic clatter of the guard starting to close up.
"Hey," the groundskeeper called to him, his tone firm, but gentle and sympathetic, "we're closin' up here, sir." He gestured to the open gate, a chain and lock in his grasp, "you can return tomorrow 'round 8am." The keeper caught sight of the flowers, "are you looking for a particular plot? The layout can be a bit confusing here. Who are you looking for? I can point you in the right direction."
YOU ARE READING
Vintage Memories
Fanfiction(Earlier parts of the story are currently being rewritten, chapters 1-12 have been updated) "Seventy-four years..." "Seventy-four...fuckin' years!" "I searched for ya' for decades! I thought ya' were fuckin' dead!" "We are dead, my dear." "Did ya' e...
