Petekey Oneshots

Is it the same for you?

My watch read 8am when I left the house.
It was 8:32 when I reached the footpath sloping uphill towards the cemetery. I pulled my hood down as the March sun began to peak through the patchy clouds. The path came to a stop up ahead just in front of an iron gate. I pulled it open with a creak that made me wince and stepped quietly inside. Not many people ever come up here. At least not at the same time as me. I come here at the same time, same date every month without fail. I have done for the past three years.

I crossed the rows of headstones without even thinking until I came to one I was familiar with. It was well kept, mostly due to me. A shiny, dark slab engraved with a date of birth and death stood before me.
I knelt down and took a deep breath.
"Hey Grandma." I looked around to make sure I was the only one in the graveyard. As I'd expected, I was alone. I'd always felt a little uncomfortable talking to a grave. I must look a little crazy from the outside but I didn't really mind. She was the only one who ever really gave a shit about me so the least I could do was pay my respects now and then.
"Oh man this never really gets any easier. I still miss you, you know? And I doubt that you can even hear me but whatever, you always told me to have faith.
I'm not doing so great right now. You always used to ask how I was holding up and well, that's the truth. I've been talking to Patrick about it but I don't want to worry him. I'll be alright eventually. No more upcoming funerals for our family, certainly not from me. I promise. Or at least I'll try.
I'm writing an album. Again. You used to say you liked my music, you never gave up on me. I didn't really ever thank you for that enough." I ran a hand through my hair.

The gate creaked and I jumped.
I glanced over and saw a lanky boy, younger than me in a black t-shirt and jeans, making his way across the grass. He had overgrown brown hair with bangs that fell in his eyes. He wore eyeliner. Less than me but enough for me to notice.
He sensed me staring and flicked his gaze up and nodded at me politely.
He was here nearly always at the same time as me. I'd never actually spoken to him but there was always some kind of mutual exchange of a glance or nod or even a slight wave.

I returned to staring the ground in front of me. I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply before whispering a short prayer she'd taught me when I was a child.
I wasn't entirely sure if I believed in a higher power of any sort but it always meant a lot to her.

I stood up and brushed the knees of my jeans off.

"I'll bring you some fresh flowers next time. Bye Grandma." With a final glance at the headstone I took off again closing the gate behind me, only looking back once to check if the other boy was still there.
He was. Bent over another grave, talking just as I was. He'd started coming about a year ago. He always seemed to have this look about him, void of all emotion. It wasn't easy visiting a dead relative so he seemed to be holding up pretty well.
I wondered who he was visiting. I imagined it must be a grandparent. Perhaps he was in a similar situation. I pondered this all the way back to my house.

-

The air was damp and hung heavy with the residue of April showers. I could feel sticky mud under my feet as I trod the path up to the gate. I was carrying a large bunch of flowers in my arms just as I'd promised last time.
I walked silently across the wet grass and bent down, not quite touching the soggy ground.
I gently removed the dead flowers from the grave and tossed them into a bush.

"Hey Grandma. I got some more flowers.
I'm doing a little better right now. I'm taking my meds again, Patrick's making sure of that. You used to have a go at me for not taking them too. I guess that's why you took such a liking to 'Trick. He does act like a bit of an old person sometimes. Not that there's anything wrong with that. You said I'd be alright one day and maybe I will. I never believed it at the time but maybe you were right. I miss you."