Graveside – Aleiav visted the graveside of the woman she hated (Genre – Angst, Rating – 18, Warnings – mentions of abuse by a parent).
“I fucking hate you,” Aleiav said.
The graveyard was silent. The gravestone was silent, the angel staring back at her with cold, dead, stone eyes.
There were a few birds singing in the trees. The sun shone high in the sky.
Aleiav hated this place. She hated the graveyard. She hated everything about it.
“I came here to give you these,” Aleiav said, waving the flowers at the stone angel, “although I see you don’t need them.”
There were flowers, all freshly laid, arranged on the steps in front of the angel. There were cards, there was even a goddam teddy bear.
Aleiav didn’t have teddies. Not after her mother had burned ever single last one.
“I thought that you would want them,” Aleiav said, “it might make you feel special. Didn’t you want that? Feeling special? You thought you were so fucking good. You thought that you were so fucking great. Well you weren’t.”
Aleiav threw the flowers at the grave. The petals smashed against the stone, cascading like snow over the name plaque.
If Aleiav could be asked, she would dig up the grave to get to the body and then punch it in the skull. She didn’t want to punch the stone, that would be stupid.
Aleiav let out a furious roundhouse kick on the young sapling of a tree that grew next to the graveside. It snapped into two like the sound of her bones when her mother had gotten a little bit too angry.
“You’re fucking dead,” Aleiav said, “you’re fucking dead and even then you control me? You know how fucking unfair that is? You think you’ve won because you control me now?”
Aleiav knew that her words were in vain. The only remains of the person on the plaque were currently rotting in the ground below her feet. Hopefully the worms liked the taste of abuse and betrayal that ran in those decomposing bones.
“You ruined my childhood,” Aleiav spat, “you ruined my chance at life. Now I’m fucked in the head because you were too fucking selfish to look outside your little fucking bubble just once?”
The body didn’t reply. The statute didn’t reply. The graveyard didn’t reply.
Aleiav stared at the name plaque, reading the letters that burned into her skull.
“It says here that you were a loving mother,” Aleiav said, “but I know better. And you know what?
I forgive you for it.”