It had been exactly one week since I dropped my parents off at their new home. In that week, I had finalized the transfer of all their assets to my name, relinquishing their claim over everything. I was the new boss now. I had placed the house on the market, insisting on a high rate against the advice of my realtor. It wasn't about the true worth of the house, which, considering how great my mother maintained it and given how frequently she enjoyed remodeling, the house was in the best shape of its life. I wanted to sell the house and its memories, and although it was not listed on the contract and based on pure superstition, I wanted a stranger to buy memories as well. the house had no ghosts, but its memory haunted the corridors of my inner child's castle, and getting rid of it while gaining seemed like a befitting end.
It had taken a week for me to finally make it to Claire's final resting place. This time, despite my limbs getting heavier and movements slowing, I made it to her grave. It was at a secluded place on the highest point in the cemetery. Although her father banished me from attending her funeral, he had accepted my help when it came to funding her coffin and her burial plot, as well as the rest. She would have loved this spot; the sunsets were breathtaking, and I hoped she at least enjoyed one. Her headstone hung from a tree that had been planted on her ashes. It was barely over a year old and yet it stood green and thriving, swaying along with the wind.
I sat next to what was left of the best person I had ever met, yet no words came out. My throat stayed dry, but my tears would not be stemmed. Silent, heavy, hot tears that soon blurred my vision as they cascaded down my cheeks, finally soaking into the ground where the tree's roots lay. I lay there crying, filled with he sinking realization that no matter who I killed or what I did to avenge her, she was never coming back.
It wasn't a new realization, not even close, and yet each time I was confronted by the reality of her death, something in my mind buckled and simply turned away. Therefore, each time I had to face her death, it was as if I was experiencing the loss all over again. I was finally bold enough to go see her, and all that was left of her was a young tree that offered no warmth, no comfort, just stillness in the ocean of time.
My eye gave way to their exhaustion, and I fell asleep hugging her tree. I was shaken awake by someone in the now dark cemetery. I was up on my feet in seconds, taking a defensive pose, ready to give whoever it was hell. It took a full two minutes before my brain comprehended what it was I was seeing. Standing there in a black floral dress was Claire.