30 Days of Writing ✓ | Ft. MCYT

4. All That Glitters Is Not Gold

It was the same as always, I was on my way to visit her while stopping by my neighbours’ house to pick a nice flower. But, today was a little different.

I was standing outside the white, chipped fence while looking at a cluster of pretty daisies when I heard him shut the door. I jumped as I stumbled back, head shooting straight up to meet the coffee-brown eyes glaring daggers at me. I opened my mouth to say something but no words came out, so the man took his turn.

“Kid, you have been coming to my garden for more than a year now. I look through the window every evening and see you picking a flower and walking off with it” -The man pointed a finger to my chest, increasing the pressure heavily- “without my permission. So, let’s see if this girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft, hm?”

My eyes dulled and I nearly cried on the spot as I agreed with the man. The rest of the way was shrouded in silence beside the crackling of fallen leaves beneath our feet. When we arrived in front of the tall, imposing gates the man gave me a questioning look. I ignored it and stepped into the cemetery. We continued afoot on the gravel path until we finally came to a stop in front of a grave with hundreds of flowers around it, fresh and wilted both. The man froze as he realised the truth. My eyes softened and I turned my gaze towards the name embossed on the cold stone slab.

“Her name is Astelic,” I started, “She’s my sister.”

The man’s eyes flickered between the grave and mine as he lowered his ears and tail in shame.

“She committed suicide a year ago. She wasn’t the most popular in school so she got bullied a lot, but she sure as hell was a fighter,” I chuckled to myself as the fond memories of her and I drifted above the grey clouds in my mind. “She gave up though, eventually.”

Mr Fundy’s eyes started to water as he scrooched down and touched her gravestone, gently stroking it. I sniffed, “But, I’m sure she’s happier up there now, it has to be better than this, right?” I turned my head towards the man as we locked gazes.

“Kid, what’s your name?” Mr Fundy spoke after a long while.

“P-Purpled,” I replied shakily as my voice cracked nearing the end.

He sighed and stood up, taking my hands into his, “Look, Purpled. From what I’ve just heard, she sounds like an Angel, and Angels always go to Heaven. I’m sure she’s watching over you from above. You’re a special, brave, strong boy and I’m sure she loves you very much. I know that she’s happier up there and that she will always be, so don’t let it worry you too much, kid.”

The words he said lightened me up a little, but I think that I still looked quite glum as he added, “If you want, I can come here with you every evening and you can take all the flowers you want from my garden, how’s that?”

I smiled, “I’d like that very much.”

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Word Count: 537

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