Sweet Charlotte

「 twenty-seven: haunted vigils 」

On Friday, the school planned to have a vigil in Charlotte's memory. It was public, meaning anyone could attend. While it rattled Seth's bones, he said he was going anyway.

"Why is it bugging you?" Willow had asked.

"Because whoever did that to her can attend." He'd said. Willow shared his paranoia, but was too fearful to voice it.

They were having it in the practice football field behind the school. Her recent yearbook photo sat, blown up, pinned to a stand so the wind couldn't knock it over. Scattered on the surrounding grass sat flowers, teddy bears, trinkets, and tokens. Two bins sat on either side of her picture, each holding a collection of thin, white candles. Two teachers, each with a lighter, stood beside them.

The air was calm and sickeningly sweet given the rain earlier in the day. As people began to trickle in, gathering in small clusters around the picture of one of their own, the Beckett family watched from afar.

Seth and his parents stood off to the side with the school's principal, giving the school's students, staff, and alumni the chance to visit her picture and place down gifts before they made their official entrance. With the rest of her peers, Willow stood beside Charlotte's picture, a cluster of tissues in one hand and a lit candle in the other, casting a glow on her teary face.

This was going to be painful. Not only was Willow aware of just how many people attending hadn't cared about Charlotte when she went missing — as they'd rolled their eyes at assemblies or during police interrogations — but she was hyper-aware that someone in the crowd could've done this to her. They could be a stranger coming to see first hand the chaos they'd caused, or giving their respects to cast off suspicion.

Worst of all was seeing Seth, alone and surrounded by family and friends, looking as though the world had done him in at 18.

The service was supposed to be short and sweet, but people could linger as long as they wanted, admiring her picture or setting down gifts. The principal was going to make an address, a short speech, they were to listen to one of her favourite songs, and then the evening would be done. Her memorial, for the time being, would be over.

Watching Seth, his parents, and the principal draw closer, Willow could feel her heart crash to her stomach. They were about to begin. The devastation was about to start all over again.

Willow couldn't stop herself from crying with the sea of strangers as their principal began talking, rattling off all the accomplishments Charlotte had achieved in her short life. The yearbook committee, the gaming club, her swarms of friends and the endless vats of respect and tenderness she gave to everyone she encountered. What he didn't mention was how it badly she'd been ripped away by someone who refused to let the world have her. But, they didn't know that yet. As far as the public knew, her death was a mystery.

She vanished, she died, and that was that.

It wasn't until Electric Love by Børns came on — Charlotte's favourite song — did Willow really lose it. Her knees began to buckle, but she stood her ground. Her chest caved and heaved, and she bent over to regain composure before forcing herself upright.

From across the way, she watched as Seth's teary eyes landed on her. His foot had started forward, wanting to go to her, but he'd stopped himself. Willow gave him a small nod. He needed to stay with his family. She could compose herself.

Regardless, for the remainder of the song, for the thank yous, and for the housekeeping reminders at the end of the night, Willow and Seth's stare didn't break. They were holding hands through a gaze, and neither of them wanted to let go.

They couldn't. The risk of what could happen was too great.

And then, the vigil faded. The candles began to dim, the world began to slow, and the really of what hung overhead grew brighter.