Pursuer's of the Heavens

Chapter 5: Therapeutic Graveyard

A singular pigeon sat on a dying branch outside the apartment, tweeting softly in the complete dawn solitude. The weak, faint sunlight filtered through Saria's window, resting upon her face with its rays. Saturday morning had arrived the same as it ever had, being slightly fuller of excess responsibilities due to the upcoming dinner. Emerging from her room and walking out towards the "kitchen counter" she encountered Layne, who currently sat at their table plank devouring oatmeal. Grabbing her own bowl of the bland, tasteless food she also sat at the table and stared out their window, observing the only interesting sight, a dull brick wall belonging to a warehouse.

"Hey Sar, are you excited for tonight?" he asked, beaming at his plan.

"Yeah Dad, I am." she said, lightly melancholic as she snapped her gaze from the window. Layne didn't pick up on her indifference, so he continued:

"I'm glad I can give you a little something to try to make up for my job's hours," he said.

"Now, are you going to have another session with Mom?" he questioned.

"Planning on it, yeah." Saria spoke back, confirming what he asked between bites.

"Do you have anything you want me to bring along with me?" she asked.

"Nothing I can think of, not this week that is."

"I'm gonna head out now before the crazy weekend rush." she faked a chuckle and stood up.

"Have a good time! Be back by five for dinner!" he called out as she simply nodded to him, packed her things and exited out the door.

Arriving at the cemetery, she observed the familiar sights and the complete lack of sounds present in the peaceful place. Approaching the untrodden path to her desired destination she arrived at Tessa Joyce's final resting place. Clearing the overgrown, tangled vines she saw the state of disrespect the tombstone was in.

"Ugh! What a mess! These stupid teens need to lay off of her!" She thought to herself, scrubbing off the Pursuer's of the Heavens gang symbols off the sides of the grave with her equipped moldy towel and ¾ empty bottle of cleaner. Restoring the rickety stone to as close to its former glory as possible she sighed in satisfaction at the work done.

"There ya go Mom. All fixed up." she spoke out loud, conversing with the stillness that filled the air.

"So uhh, how've you been?" she said.

"I've not been all too great honestly, you know how life is sometimes. Listen, I won't tell Dad this, but I've found something out about Mr. Norris. You knew him, right?" Saria was only greeted with the distant cawing of a murder of crows in the distance, disrupting the fragile silence. She exhaled loudly, plopping down on the coarse dirt beneath her with her legs folded over one another.

"Look, this is probably equally awkward to both myself and you, wherever you may be, so I'll just begin writing, alright?" Leaving room for a potential reply she then proceeded to pull out another roughed-up journal, one having no inscriptions upon it except "For Tessa". She then scribbled out a hypothetical conversation she might've had with her Mom regarding everything that was happening.

Saria had used this methodology as a form of therapeutic solace during her worst and best times. Forming an imaginary bond with a dead person was slightly (extremely) unconventional, but it seemed to work, and that's exactly what mattered to the Joyce family, her in particular. Not a soul beyond Layne, Saria, and Irene knew of this habit, and that proved to be the correct choice for conserving some dignity in day-to-day life.

Callie's passing; the most tragic shift in family values that had ever occurred in the Joyce family line, perhaps second only to Great Grandma Josephine's death. To give some sense of background on Great Grandma Josephine, one would have to observe her greatest achievement in life; the patenting of the famed purple plaster, otherwise less commonly known by its officially given name: Prosperitas, Latin for the city of the same name, the one where she was raised.