𝗕𝗘𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗗 𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 | ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀ.

002 ჻ 𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙔

[ tw: death ]

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TODAY, there is no weather; there is a little to no wind, just howling. The temperature is of a mild apparition and so she hears the dull wind's company more so.

Graveyards need not be grave, however, can be a place of new life and the reaching of blossom from tight bud. The graveyard can be a place to bring the joy of rebirth and renewal to the spirit and wish her loved ones well on their onward voyage.

Sometimes, she thinks of them as trees in a park rather than this place of stony regimentation. She thinks of the people there as a forest and let them rest there in beauty. In this life she can make her own monsters, yet she can also make her own angels, her own memory parks that nourish and give to whom she is and is destined to become.

In front of her parents' grave, Thalia stands. Soldiers are supposed to be buried under their own burial grounds, yet Thalia insists that her father needs to be buried next to her mother's grave. Her father on the left, and her mother on the right. In such a way like when they were standing the moment they officially got married.

Clutched on her hand is a bouquet of white tulips, her mother's most-liked flower. Ever since she was a kid, every two weeks, her mother would buy flowers, most of the time white tulips, and place them on their dining table. So that when they dine, it isn't just that the food that matters to them but also the environment, as well as the aura of the space.

"Mom, why do you always get the white tulips?" 11-year old Thalia asks.

"Because tulips are one of the first flowers to bloom in the spring, they can mean rebirth," her mom says with a soothing tone.

"No, mom. I mean, why white? There are a lot of colors to choose from, yet you always get the white ones."

"Oh. . . it's because white tulips symbolize forgiveness." Laura then looks at her daughter in the eyes, "The world we live in, Thalia. . . it's a cruel, cruel world, and I want you to forgive it . . . because the chaos can also be beautiful. When the world is unfair to you, never be unfair to it. . . why? Because unfair things may become fair at anytime."

"Thalia, it's getting late." Hannes strides next to Thalia. Her father's funeral was short. Everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe they were too out of sorts to look at the wretched blonde girl. After the ceremony, people offered their sympathies to Thalia, and placed some flowers on the surface of the tombstone.

The sun shines brilliantly and the virescent colour of the spring day under its glare is offensively bright and cheerful. It is as if they conspire to show her how the world will go on without them.

It shouldn't.

Everything should be as grey and foggy as her emotions, it should be cold and damp with silent air. But the birds still sing and the flowers still bloom.

"Forgive this cruel world."

Thalia slowly releases the bouquet from her hand, and touches each tombstone before turning around.

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"You'll be staying with us for the mean time," Dr. Jaeger says as he opens the door of the room for Thalia to enter.

"I'm really sorry about your parents." He looks at her with a somber inlay.

"It's alright, Dr. Jaeger. Thank you for letting me stay here." Thalia offers him a gloomy smile.