Post by dr. ludvig von bakken on Aug 13, 2011 13:38:10 GMT -5
The breeze swept Ludvig’s hair, driving strands across his face in annoying whipping motions. He ignored the win and the hair and kept his eyes trained, focused. He lowered himself down and dropped his knees onto the edge of the grass, just before where the freshly shoveled dirt lay. In a week, the first signs of grass would appear. In a month, the freshness of the grave would no longer be obvious. Only the date would reveal the age of the grave.
The dates also spoke of how young they had been. It was far too young. No one should die at an age, Ludvig told himself. Life was already short enough that to die this young was a waste. He set the bundle of flowers on the grave. It would make the third set of flowers to be added. The first flowers laid had been a carefully wrapped bundle of lilacs, hand-picked by the sister. The second had been an expensive wreath that the parents had set down before they had walked off, wiping away their tears.
Ludvig had not attended the funeral. He could not see the pain on their faces as the shovels of dirt were tossed into the earth. He waited for the following day to visit alone in quiet contemplation. He added his flowers to the grave. White asphodels were hard to come by, but he needed to send the right message to her. It had not been his fault that she had died, but he had not been able to save her.
“I wish things could have gone another way,” he said. There was nothing else to say. He rose and turned back towards the church.
Though she had not been her long, her love of the school had been enough to convince her parents to see her buried here. It was selfish, he knew, but now when he needed solace he could return here. He had no true connection with the deceased. Still, it gave him someone he could speak to that could never break his trust.
Speaking at the grave had given him some comfort, but not much. These matters were not all resolved yet. There was still someone out there that was a threat to his love. Ludvig would stop at nothing to protect Vivian. He didn’t care what it took, but he would never let her join the cemetery alongside the grave of Veronica Lilac Pearson.
The dates also spoke of how young they had been. It was far too young. No one should die at an age, Ludvig told himself. Life was already short enough that to die this young was a waste. He set the bundle of flowers on the grave. It would make the third set of flowers to be added. The first flowers laid had been a carefully wrapped bundle of lilacs, hand-picked by the sister. The second had been an expensive wreath that the parents had set down before they had walked off, wiping away their tears.
Ludvig had not attended the funeral. He could not see the pain on their faces as the shovels of dirt were tossed into the earth. He waited for the following day to visit alone in quiet contemplation. He added his flowers to the grave. White asphodels were hard to come by, but he needed to send the right message to her. It had not been his fault that she had died, but he had not been able to save her.
“I wish things could have gone another way,” he said. There was nothing else to say. He rose and turned back towards the church.
Though she had not been her long, her love of the school had been enough to convince her parents to see her buried here. It was selfish, he knew, but now when he needed solace he could return here. He had no true connection with the deceased. Still, it gave him someone he could speak to that could never break his trust.
Speaking at the grave had given him some comfort, but not much. These matters were not all resolved yet. There was still someone out there that was a threat to his love. Ludvig would stop at nothing to protect Vivian. He didn’t care what it took, but he would never let her join the cemetery alongside the grave of Veronica Lilac Pearson.
