B
The cheery jazz music flowing from the taxi speakers contrasts the city in every way possible as everyone bustles around the streets, heads down, tucked underneath umbrellas and rain coats, seeing that the rain has begun again.
Jerry is unusually quiet today, but he knows where he's taking me. Usually, he'd be making cheerful conversation about what Kelsey and I were up to or how Lydia was doing like he has been for the last 10 years that he's driven me around, but today he just drives, though I see his eyes flicker to the rear view mirror occasionally to check on me.
I try to focus on watching the city fade beside me as we leave it.
The next 25 minutes pass quickly- much too quickly- and I feel my breathing begin to shallow out as Jerry pulls to a stop.
"Love you kid. Just text me when you want me to come back, I'll be here as soon as I can."
"Thanks Jer. See you soon." I smile at him before grabbing the flowers from the seat beside me and closing the door, patting it twice and watching him drive away. I turn to face the gates and my chest tightens.
The metal is old, the stones that create the walls around the space covered in a thick coat of moss in many places. I side-step a drop of water falling from the massive iron sign swinging slightly in the breeze above me. It's hard to read the bold letters now, but I know what it says from the 14 other times I've walked under it.
Duncan Memorial Cemetery
I take a deep breath as I walk through the gate, ignoring the blanket of fog that has been tucked in over the various graves scattering the wet grass. I feel myself shrink, back into tiny black flats and a little dress I didn't know why I needed to wear, my 5 year old hand wrapped around Lydia's finger.
I shove the thought to the back of my mind, making my way to the right. Two more right turns and a few more feet forward and I'm there, and I finally let the tears go.
Their gravestone is still in good shape as I lay the purple flowers down in front of it, gently tracing the etchings with my finger.
Blake Conrad
Born April 18th, 1973
Died September 20th, 2001
Anna Conrad
Born October 2nd, 1975
Died September 20th, 2001
"Hi Dad. Hi Mom," I whisper to myself, the tears flowing steadily now. I hate coming here. Today is the only day of the year I will. I prefer to remember them in laughter and photographs, not stone. Yet something deep in me feels like I owe it to them, so I take the blanket from my bag and spread it out on the wet ground in front of the stone, climbing onto it and trying my best to get comfortable on the uneven ground. The fog begins to move, burning off and heading West as I listen to the creek flow to my right while the minutes tick by. I stare at the clouds above me, my tears slowing a little as the storm in my heart passes. It's gotten a little shorter every time I've come here.
-
I don't know how much time I let pass before I pull my sandwich from my bag, picking at the bread and feeding some of the birds flitting around in the trees before tossing it towards the creek, knowing the squirrels will enjoy it. My Dad always loved to feed the wildlife, or so Lydia says. I imagine him smiling down on me and I can't help but smile a little too.
The sun finally emerges from behind its clouds, and I slide my jacket off, basking in the rays and finally relaxing for the first time today.
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in only to have it catch in my throat, the sound of a camera clicking stopping it dead.
YOU ARE READING
15 Years // harry styles
Fanfiction"When will you understand? I'm always going to protect you. I don't care if it puts me in danger, I don't care if you don't want me to. It doesn't matter where we are. Who it is. What it's from. I can't just sit by Bailey. I can't. I only care about...
