Lace shot straight up in bed, his heart racing. The dream had seemed so real...but he was still in his room, still in his bed. And she wasn't there. Just like last time. He slid to the edge of the bed and sighed. This was making his life too complicated. And the dreams were insane...why did she keep showing up? It wasn't like she hadn't harassed him enough in real life...
He slid out of bed, and headed for the shower.
The water was hot, soothing his restless thoughts. He let it wash over him, calming his scrambled mind, washing away the bizarre dream. He stood like that for several minutes, and then suddenly slapped the water off. He hopped out and toweled off quickly.
This was useless. He had to know what was going on. He dressed quickly and headed downstairs, checking his watch. 8:15. Dark enough, more or less. Sliding into the car, he backed out of the driveway, and took off, not exactly sure where he was going.
When he arrived, he realized it wasn't really a surprise. The weeping willows rustled softly, calling him towards the quietly sleeping dead. He'd always liked this cemetery...until Araina died. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his keys, and then took a deep breath and started for the gate.
The iron creaked at his touch, but opened smoothly. The wind slipped past his face, cool and sweet. He slowly walked in. He knew exactly where Araina's grave was, but this time, it wasn't really what he was looking for. He wasn't sure what he was looking for.
He slowly wandered the aisles, looking at the weather worn stones, each representing one more person whose life had ended so soon. Some had flowers, some were empty, many were covered with vines and a few weeds.
His heart twisted for a moment, feeling an empathy with the forgotten souls sleeping cold and quiet. Like him, they had nothing left and no one to remember them.
After walking for a while, he was nearing where Araina was buried. His heart tugged a little more, and his eyes blurred as he walked up behind her tombstone, just enough for him not to notice the small bush in front of him. He tripped, regained his balance, and looking down, froze.
The bush wasn't a bush. It was a tangle of vines that had been twisted around another small stone, barely two feet from Araina's grave.
He couldn't move. He couldn't believe he'd never seen it. And even more, for some reason, he was afraid to see the name on it. He stood there for a few moments, just staring. Finally, he made himself move. He slowly knelt down and brushed the vines back from the stone. An almost shock like sensation rushed down his fingers as he touched the stone. The vines moved easily, and with them gone, the inscription was easily visible.
The sight made his blood run cold. It was the tombstone from his dream. On the marble was the name. Her name.
"I don't understand." The words slipped from his lips. He looked at the small stone, stunned. He started moving more vines away, desperate to understand. A small beat up vase rolled out of the vines, and as he pulled away the last of the leaves, he noticed a small line of text at the bottom of the stone. He gently blew the dust out of the letters and traced a finger over them. They looked newer, almost uneven. They couldn't have been on the stone originally.
He glanced around, and then bent closer.
Even in death, no one can separate sisters...
A wave of sadness swept over him. Someone else here had lost a sister too. The oddity of the dream, the familiarity of the tombstone, the name, they didn't matter anymore. All he could think of was the woman somewhere going through the same pain as he was, and that something must have happened to her to leave the grave like this, deserted and dirty.
He looked over at Araina's grave, clean and white, the flowers he had delivered every week blooming beautifully. He stepped over, knelt down, and gently pulled a rose from Araina's bouquet.
"I know you'd understand..." He traced a finger across her stone, fighting tears.
He slowly stood up, and stepping back to the other neglected stone, he laid the single rose across the top. He finished gently clearing the vines, and stood up. He was quiet for a moment, the loss of so much hanging in the air.
Then he turned and started for the car. Blinking away the last of the tears, he slid his sunglasses on. Grief would have to wait. It was time for work.
