SwedenSara Week 50: A Place To Rest

SwedenSara
Friday


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SwedenSara’s Choice: both


Title: A Place To Rest
Closely after my death, as I like to call my transition to vampire, I came back to my house in search of some memorabilia. I wanted something to hold on to, something to help me remember who I was and what I had lost. A few pictures, a porcelain doll and my old baby shoes disappeared from my house that night. If my parents ever missed them, I’ll never know.

I visited Rochester again, years after my parents had passed away. Our old house stood there; it’s facade still beautiful, but it’s insides empty, broken and abandoned, just like me. I wandered among the debris and dust in the rooms once kept immaculately clean by my mother. A sad smile ghosted over my lips, knowing the disapproving look she’d have if she saw the state her precious home was in. I sat in there for hours, visiting the sometimes dim, sometimes fairly clear human memories of my childhood and my family.

The graveyard where my parents were buried had grown, and the old part of it had not been cared for in years. The relatives of those who lay there had passed away and the younger generations cared little about the graves of great grandparents. Some of the old tombstones were slanting precariously, slowly bending to the forces of nature. Lush, green moss covered them, giving the hard granite a velvety surface. Rays of sunlight filtered through the thick vegetation, like spotlights from God slowly moving over the cemetery, illuminating the forsaken graves one by one, showering them in light and giving them the attention they deserved, but didn’t get anymore.

I regarded the engraved names on my family stone, following my own with my fingertips.

Rosalie Hale - 1915-1933 - beloved daughter

If I ever died - for real - I wished my vampire family would bring my ashes here. This would be a good place to rest.