Soul of Roses

Track Seven

"Will, where are you buried?" I asked a couple days later.

He looked at me funny and said, "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to visit your grave," I said.

"I do not think that is a good idea..." he said. "I mean, I am here am I not? Why would you need to see where I was buried if I am before you?"

"I don't know, I just thought it'd be... Well, not fun... I don't know what the word is... Fulfilling, maybe?" I said.

"Well... I guess, but I am not going with you," he said.

"Ok, your loss," I said. He scowled at me. "I didn't mean it like that, Will."

So that day, I drove by myself to the graveyard where Will was buried.

It was an ancient graveyard about an hour from my house, probably dating back to the early 1800s. But for such an old graveyard, it was very big.

I searched the many gravestones looking for Longchest on any of them. And maybe even some spirits hanging out by their graves.

Most people think graveyards are very haunted, when the truth is most of them really aren't. I mean, if you were dead would you want to spend your time at the place where your body was shoved into a hole in the ground while your soul was still living on?

But then again, where else would you go to find family members?

I made sure to bring the flowers I'd bought from the grocery store. I'd bought two small bouquets of three roses each. One was for Will and the other for his sister, who I presumed was buried in the same place.

It took me a while before I actually found the Longchests' tombstones. I rubbed off some of the snow to see the dates and epitaphs.

The first one I came across was a small, rounded rectangle headstone. It was Martha's. The dates were 1907-1913.

She was only six years old when she died. I gawked.

As I lay the bouquet on the gravestone, I read the epitaph and nearly started crying because of the injustice of it all.

A blessing unto to the world who brightened it for a brief, transient moment.

"Do I know you?" said a little girl's voice.

She came out from behind the headstone. I stared at her. She looked a lot like Will, blonde hair, brown eyes, and heartbreaking blood-soaked clothes. The similarities were unmistakable.

"Are you Martha?" I asked.

The little girl hesitated, stepping behind her headstone again and asked, "What do want?"

"I know your brother," I said. "Will."

"Will?" she asked. I nodded, smiling. "Why?"

"He follows me around," I said. "We're best friends."

"Can I see him?" she asked. "Is my brother here?"

"Maybe," I said, looking around. "I'm by your grave, Will. Guess who's here."

At that moment, Will appeared behind me. I turned around, sensing his presence.

"Brother!" Martha said, running to him with open arms.

Will just stood completely still. I watched the two and smirked.

He said he wasn't going to come with me, the liar. I thought, happy for him.

Martha squeezed him. I wondered how long it'd been since they'd seen each other.

Will broke down crying and hugged his little sister.