Showering droplets of water cascaded downward making everything considerably wet. A light fog had settled amidst the stone slabs that marked the location of forgotten graves. At one point in time someone felt it necessary to get a rock, scratch a name into it and stick it on the burial site of one who had passed. It was really a silly idea, the notion that the person who was dead would care if someone would remember them. The notion that for eternity people would respect the location and walk around rather than through as to not disturb the slumber of the deceased. Fact of the matter was that after the first year, loved ones stopped visiting and the graves eventually were forgotten.
A small figure sat huddled in front of a fresh marble slab. Clutched in pale white hands was a bouquet of already wilting tulips. Slowly and carefully she removed the quite dead roses from before the grave and replaced them with the tulips.
"I told Dad your favorite flowers were tulips. He didn't listen," the girl whispered, "He said that he knew best. I didn't want to take them away. You know him. He gets really emotional about things and just can't handle it when something goes against him."
She paused and looked at the tulips sadly. They weren't fresh and were already half dead.
"He took up drinking again, so I haven't come to visit. I need to stay home, make sure he doesn't hurt himself and clean up when he's taken too much. I have to beg him for money sometimes...just for food. For some reason he thinks beer is breakfast, lunch and dinner."
She quivered and drew her arms tighter around herself.
"I couldn't afford to get any nice flowers. I begged the florist to sell me her worst dozen for a couple bucks. I wish I could have gotten you the fresh assortment like you deserve. It had all the colors that you liked."
She grew silent and simply sat. She stared at her hands. Already they had become wrinkled from the rain. Her mother wouldn't like her outside in this weather. It had been raining for a week and she simply couldn't keep herself any longer in that pitiful house. She would not forget her mother's grave, not even if it rained every day for the rest of her life.
"Wish you were here, mom," her voice shook and she closed her eyes, "Dad and I need you more than ever. It's not your fault, I know...but it sucks. I just wish I could see you again."
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