At The Kiss Of Midnight

Original | Epilogue

~Demi's POV - FIVE YEARS LATER~

With every breath, my stomach clenches into a sphere of solid ice that threatens to shred my body apart from the inside out. My eyes shift from one block of engraved stone to the next rapidly, as if the quick movements will whisk away the hot tears stinging the back of my eyes. I curse myself for being so emotional, remind myself that it has been five years. I don't even know why I bother looking for the grave anymore when I know exactly where it is.

A light drizzle of rain washes out the normally vibrant hues of the sunset sky. Dark clouds obscure the yellow ball in the sky, and I know that a storm will soon hit. I can only hope that I make it back home before it does.

A bird, startled, flies away when I approach the stone, allowing me to place a small bouquet of light blue hydrangeas on the grave. Blue is supposedly a color that represents peace, openness, and serenity.

Peace for how I feel now, five years later. I've made peace with what happened that day; I've made peace with everything that I lost and with everything that I gained. The immense guilt that I felt when the casket was lowered into the ground and topped with shovel after shovel of soil is now nothing but a slight tugging nag in the back of my mind. Most importantly, I've made peace with myself.

Openness for the future, for everything that I've gained, and will continue to gain, since the funeral. I welcome the future now that guilt is no longer suffocating me and holding me back.

Serenity for all of the little moments. No longer do I fear quiet moments; no longer are my quiet moments tainted by memories of what should have, could have, or would have been. No longer are my quiet moments haunted by demons telling me that I deserve to feel guilty, that I'm the reason everything happened like it did, that the blood of a dead lover tarnishes my hands.

When my hair is wet enough to stick to the back of my neck, and when my fingers are numb from tracing the engraving on the stone, I rise from my crouched position with a deep, lingering sigh. The rain is no longer a light drizzle, and I know I must hurry if I want to be back in the warm safety of my home before the storm hits.

Walking out of the graveyard, I smile when I remember that I will be having a visitor this evening. I walk faster to my car, eager to catch up with the familiar face.

~

"Please, for the love of all things good in this world, tell me that you have real food here. I've been living off of ramen noodles and frozen pizzas."

I laugh as the eighteen year old, blue-eyed blonde groans and dramatically collapses onto my couch, acting as if she's going to drop dead from starvation this very second.

"I was thinking about breakfast for dinner?" I suggest, and she immediately perks up into an actual sitting position.

"As long as we have pancakes, I'm sold."

"Why are we discriminating against waffles, though?" Another voice interjects, entering the living room with numerous bags hanging off of each arm. "And fucking hell, did you pack enough? I feel like my arms are going to snap off."

The girl on my couch rolls her eyes as the bags are dropped onto the floor. "I brought everything that was in my dorm; they need to clean the rooms while we're on break. You should maybe consider joining a gym." She smiles sweetly, innocently, at the glare she receives, and I chuckle. "And, just for the record, pancakes are better than waffles."

"You don't even like syrup, so your opinion is irrelevant."

"I put peanut butter on them!" she defends, ignoring the scowl of disgust.