Darker Days

Part 1

She sits alone on a bench. Tears run down her cheeks and form a little puddle at her collar bone. She wears a hoodie with some writing on the back. On top of that, a grey coat with too many things in the pockets. A pair of black jeans cover her legs apart from the left knee where there is a small hole.
Why is she crying? You may think. I don't really know but I may find out soon. She puts her hand into her pocket and pulls something out enclosed in her palm.
It could be her phone, it could be a tissue. I won't know until she tells us. It could even be a cigarette or a bottle of pills she's about to take in one.
I now see her opening her hand and taking a look down at a crumpled picture of a young boy.
'What have I done?' she whispers, directing the words at the small portrait.
The boy is wearing a full football strip, he holds a ball with his left hand and holds up his thumb with his right. He looks eleven at the oldest. There is something about him. I want to know more.
I look closer. I discover more. He has a small birthmark in the shape of a comma just above the neck of his shirt. I see all the things that don't matter. The large patch of mud on his right thigh, the grass stains on his football boots, the bruise on his elbow. They don't matter. Not to me anyway.
She flips over the picture exposing some rather scrawled writing. 'Julien Hunter, 308.' The girl gets up and places the picture back into her pocket. She looks around and takes a step. From the way she walks and the way the tears still flow means she's in pain.
She takes a left and abruptly stops at the iron gate to a graveyard. As she opens it, it lets out a small creak. Taking four or five paces forwards she stops.
'7A, 7B, 7C, 7D, 7E' she counts squinting in the sunlight, pointing to each headstone like a child learning their numbers. Walking down the rows of stone she gets to a plot number 7E and turns to face it.
Once again she takes the picture out of her pocket, this time she pulls a key out too. The grave was new, you could tell by the shimmer across the grain. Attatched to the grave was a black bow labelled 'MEMORIES'.
The girl leans over and inserts the key into the box and unlocks it.
"For the last smile,
For the last cry,
Last grass stain,
Last bruise,
Last mark on your beautiful face. I'm so sorry Julien. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I didn't want any of this. It's all my fault. I said I'd try and I...I...I didn't and now...now you're gone.'
I watch as the tears turn from drops to streams and streams to rivers. I watch as she collapses into the grass. She manages to pick herself up and kisses the picture softly.
Slowly she slides the picture into the box and locks it up. Walking away, she falls apart. The sun glowing brightly in her eyes but her world has never been darker.