Going to the Grave (OPEN)

[AIDAN MICHAEL O'RILEY]

Every so often, Aidan liked to get away from the world. He liked to go somewhere else and still be able to be himself. Or rather, he liked to go somewhere that he could talk to someone who had always understood him no matter what, and didn’t hate him no matter what he did or said. But that was what mothers were for right? To love and cherish no matter what, and to protect their children. Sometimes Aidan wondered what it would have been like if his mother never had passed on. If she would have been able to calm his father and this whole thing could have been avoided.

His father’s grave was right next to his mother’s, but his father had made it clear in life that he wanted nothing to do with Aidan. So Aidan respected his father’s wishes even in death. How was that for being the worst son ever?

He pushed himself out of bed and took in the small artist’s apartment that he shared with other Mitchell’s Theater performers. It was small, this was true, but they had bought it because their living room doubled as a practice room, it had been built that way. And it was cozy, plus they all got along well. It was a weird arrangement but it worked, and he couldn’t keep mooching off his brother James. When he had found the add for this place he had been thrilled, and even more thrilled when they had agreed to let him come stay. It was perfect. He had his own small room, which he was currently laying in, and that was all that was necessary, he wasn’t some chick to need a huge bathroom and closet space to himself.

He dressed casually, but made sure it was his good pair of jeans with no holes from the wear and tear, and the tee shirt he pulled over his head was respectable with nothing random on the front. He pulled on his coat after it and wound a scarf around his neck and that was that. Add shoes to the mix and he was good to go. One of his apartment mates had made toast and stuck a piece in his mouth as he headed out the door. He laughed and mumbled a thank you around the bread as he left.

Aidan took in the world around him as he left his apartment. He wasn’t on the nicest part of Chiaro but that was okay, being too deep into the nicer parts just reminded him of home, and how he couldn’t go back there now even if he wanted. He and his brother had sold their parents’ house after their father had died as it had been asked of them in his will, not that Aidan was specifically in the will, but it had hinted towards him too because his old man had had a heart somewhere under his pride last Aidan had checked.

He smiled a little at the woman behind the counter at the flower shop as he entered and looked around at all of the pre-made bouquets. He always brought flowers with him when he went to visit his mother. It was a sign of respect in his eyes and he always had the highest respect for his mother, always. He finally settled on lilies, which had been his mother’s favorite flower—the trumpet lilies not the calla’s, she had never liked those for some reason—and then paid, smiling again politely at the woman behind the counter and then left again with flowers in his hands.

He laughed a little and waved off the praise of the men he knew from town thinking that the dancer named Aidan had finally got himself a date. No, nothing as exciting as that he was afraid. Not that he intended to have a date, it just never interested him for some reason he couldn’t seem to pinpoint. It just…had never crossed his mind to be honest. It wasn’t something that he dwelled on either.

It didn’t bother him to walk along as the shops and clubs fell away, and soon the houses became more sparse as well. It just meant that he was nearing his destination. The graveyard had been tucked away in the forest, not far from the old ruins and battle grounds. The mayor said this had been done in order to respect the fallen. It gave them a quiet and peaceful place for their bodies to rest while their souls were in Hades, and it kept them away from the noise and possible graffiti that came along with being in the city. Personally, Aidan didn’t mind at all. It was just as peaceful for him as it was for the dead to be able to get away to this place.

If one wasn’t looking for the entrance to Seraph Graveyard, however, one could easily miss it. It wasn’t marked by anything, there were no signs, and the gate entrances were father along this path. But Aidan had been walking this path since his mother was taken from him sixteen years earlier, so he knew this walk well, and never missed the turnoff even if he was deep in thought. It was like his feet knew where to go. His mind didn’t need to enter into the equation. It worked well for him, because he was usually thinking pretty deep as he made this walk.

A good ten feet later he entered into the graveyard and walked until he found his mother’s grave. There were already flowers there, signifying that his brother had been here not too long ago. It made him wish he had planned out this visit with James. There were also flowers at his father’s grave, right next to Mothers, but James had been allowed to still address father so it made sense. He set the flowers against the grave and kneeled down next to it. ”Hi Mom” he said softly, looking at her grave where they called her a remarkable mother and wife, sister and daughter, and honored her for the great work she did before dying on the job.

He missed her.

He shook his head and began to talk softly, because when he was here it wasn’t like he was talking to the air, he could almost feel her here with him.

Words: 1092
Muse: Good
Notes: Sorry, its a really weird starter lol

[RIVER JANE FAYE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] If I die young, bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses The Words: 1,063 The Outfit: Above The Notes Nothing special… River rarely had good dreams, she had been terrorized with nightmares as long as she could remember. She was very good at remembering her dreams, some think that a gift but mostly River wished she would forget them upon waking. Sometimes her mind seemed to have a creative imagination, her dreams wouild have zombies and vampires, or other ridiculous creatures that didn’t quite scare her. It was when her dreams seemed realistic that they became nightmares. She was always very good about knowing when she was dreaming and was usually able to control her actions in her dreams, or so it seemed. Some of her worst nightmares were the ones where she would tell herself to wake up, knowing that she was dreaming, but when she would wake up something would be wrong and she would realize that she was only dreaming that she was awake. She hated that trapt feeling of being stuck in her dreams and aware of it. River was currently dreaming of her grandparents, her shade side. Her Grandfather had died when she was six, she had good memories of him, but they were few. Her grandmother had passed away when River was fourteen. Her grandma had been almost more important to her than her parents or brother. She had loved her more than anything, it made her heart ache to even think of her. Her grandparents were always alive in her dreams, but this was never a good thing, because River always knew that they weren’t supposed to be. In this dream they were fighting, they had been divorced before River was even born so this was sort of normal she supposed. It was the fact that they didn’t notice her there watching and listening that bothered her. Why did she have to sit through this? She just wanted to wake up. She woke with a start, her alarm was going off, she smacked it to the ground as usual and lied there. Her last memory of the dram was her grandparents turning to look at her, of course when something interesting happened she would wake up. She didn’t know why her alarm had gone off, it was a three day weeekend, the Mayor had declared some Holiday. She sat up knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, her grandparents were on her mind now. She slipped out of bed and into her slippers deciding to make herself breakfast. River rarely had time to eat a good breakfast, usually eating a bagel or banana on her way to work. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and washed her face to really wake herself up before cooking, she didn’t want to start a fire due to drowziness. River liked her kitchen, she didn’t use it much but she always pictured herself having a dinner party someday. She pulled out the bacon, eggs, and bread. Toast with bacon and eggs would be good, she could add a side of fresh fruit. The cooking and eating didn’t take long like she had hoped, as she cleaned her dishes she check her stove clock. It was only eight-forty. Her alarm had gone off at eight. River sighed in dissapointment, she had no idea what to do with her free Friday. She should have made plans when the Mayor had announced his silly fake Holiday. She looked around her sad and lonely apartment knowing that is she kept herself cooped up all day she would become depressed. So she headed back to her bathroom and hopped into the shower, she liked thinking in the shower, when she wasn’t to busy singing at the top of her lungs like a fool. Her grandparents kept appearing in her thoughts, it was as if the dream had been trying to tell her something. Finally, as she rinsed, an idea of what to do this morning popped in to her now squeaky clean head. She could visit they’re graves and bring them flowers. It wasn’t something she had done in a very long time, she felt ashamed when she tried to remember the last time she had done it. She dressed quickly and warmly, a white sweater, jacket, jeans, and a pair of fashionable boots. She didn’t dry her hair or put on make up, she was visiting a cemetary not going out for drinks. She grabbed her purse off the coffee table and locked her door on the way out. She got into her little green caralready prepaired for the blasting music when she turned it on, she couldn’t drive without it. River drove to Chiaro, a drive she didn’t make often, singing along to the latest hits. She always thought it was funny that her Shade Grandparents were burried in the city of the light, but they had loved the Faerie forest and it was their wish to be burried next to each other there. Even though they had divorced before she was even born they never stopped loving each other. Her grandmother told her that divorced because of lifestyle differences but she would never love anyone else. River parked on the curbside and searched for the gated entrance, it really had been a shamefully long time since her last visit. River didn’t have many reasons to come to this city, other than the occasional show at the Mitchell Theater, she always told herself if she had business during the day in Chiaro she would visit them. Today they were her business. She found her way into the graveyard, glad she had come in the morning instead of later in the day, it was less creepy this way. She remembered that they were in the very back and it was a sort of a long up hill walk. About half way there she noticed she wasn’t the only living being there. A man, Angelli she guessed from the blonde hair, knelt down by a grave. When she got closer she immediately recognized him, he was a dancer she had seen many times at Mitchell Theater. Visiting dead loved ones was usually a private thing, she normally would have left him in peace and continued on to her own family. But for some reason she wanted to at least say hello to him. She was a fan, she even knew his name, Aidan O’Riley. She took a step off the path and towards him, ”Aidan?’ created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

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[AIDAN MICHAEL O'RILEY]

Whether or not the honorable Angelli woman who died in the line of duty could hear him or not, Aidan O’Riley always felt a lot better when he was speaking to her. It didn’t shame him in the slightest to know that he was looking like a crazy person as he sat here talking to a grave, and it wasn’t like many other people didn’t do it as well. So there was no harm in it. He just knew that somewhere his mother was listening to him.

And he was hoping she was proud.

His father said that his mother would have been disgraced by his choice to be a dancer rather than follow the line of the family all the way into being a body guard or being in the police force. Aidan had to disagree. Or at least, he hoped as much. He was a dancer because that was his passion, and he did it well. He hoped that that would have been enough for his mother and he firmly believed it would have been. His mother was a kind woman who always listened to her sons and always seemed to have the gentle voice rather than the stern hand of his father.

And besides, his father had been wrong. His father told hm that he was putting his muscle to waste in dance, that he was never going to amount to anything, that he would end up on the streets if he kept pursuing dance in the manner that he did. That wasn’t true. He beat his older brother who was a body guard the other day in a wrestling match because dance kept him so fit. He head a steady job as a performer in a reknowned theater. He had fun, a good apartment with good people, and he liked his life.

So his father was wrong. Not that he would sit there and say that out loud, not with his father’s headstone right next to his mothers. He and his father might have never gotten along, and that might be the biggest understatement of the century, but he was still a good son. He respected his father’s wishes never to have Aidan speak to him again, even after death. It baffled his older brother and his friends, but he insisted that his reasons were his own.

He spoke to her, as always, telling her of the crowds that had come to last night’s performance. He told her of the dance numbers that he did. He told her of seeing his brother after the show and about how he was worried that he wouldn’t nail the routine for next week’s show in time for the performance because it involved some moves he wasn’t exactly great at just yet, they had to be tweaked a lot before he could even consider them passable. He came to visit his mother a lot, and Aidan never shied away from filling her In on everything that popped into his head. He was a mama’s boy that way.

He didn’t tell her about how he wished that she had lived. How he resented Shades now for the fact that they had been the breed to kill the only parent that cared enough about him. He didn’t tell her about how he worried that James, his brother, secretly agreed with their father or how secretly their father’s rejection still hurt him. He didn’t share his worried about that, he only shared the good stuff. He didn’t want to bring her spirit around to talk to, metaphorically or otherwise, and then bore her with his sad little worries, so to speak.

Aidan didn’t notice that anyone else was visiting this graveyard along with him, however, until said person spoke out. They called his name. He didn’t recognize the voice right away, but when he turned a bit he recognized the face. A small smile alighted on his lips, though it took him a moment to place the name with the face. He was, admittedly, not the greatest with names. But he recognized her so it only took a little bit more than a minute. ”Hi River” he said, glad he had remembered. It would have been a shame for her to remember his and not he the other way around.

If he remembered correctly, she was a fan of his dancing, and also she was on the mayor of Nox’s staff if he remembered right. They had met a time or two, and he always made a point to remember the name of someone who liked his work, it made him feel good inside…like defying his family had been worth something.

It was an odd place to meet someone, however, in a cemetery. He stood and turned towards her, dusting off his pants slightly where the grass had clung to them from kneeling at his mother’s grave. He didn’t mind meeting others here, however. Unlike most…it wasn’t a dreary place to him, not after how many times he had come here before for his mother’s sake. So it didn’t seem creepy to him. He wondered why she was here, in the cemetery, but wasn’t sure if it was exactly polite to ask, so he decided ot stick to a more polite question instead. ”How have you been?” he asked. He wondered if maybe that just seemed out of place, in place of polite, but oh well…couldn’t win all the time.

Words: 954
Muse: Okay
Comments: Sorry it took me so long!