Grave Confessions
Part Two: Lydia
The slam of a car door in the parking lot broke the silence of the cemetery that windy morning. The birds shuffled from the ground and flew up into the trees, as her high heels clicked across the pavement.
Lydia.
She stopped at the foot of my grave and pressed her bright red lips together. She didn’t look at my headstone like Stiles had, instead, she looked around, her eyes wide. She cleared her throat and shook her head.
“Quiet please.”
Banshee stuff.
Lydia lifted her chin and let out a long sigh through a small part in her lips. She didn’t look as comfortable here as Stiles had and didn’t visit nearly as often but I knew she’d come today. She finally focused on my headstone for a few moments. Her eyes welled.
Don’t cry, Lydia.
“Hi Allison.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
She always cried when she came to visit. Especially the first time. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. I watched her eyes trace the letters on my headstone but her sadness switched to annoyance when her focus landed on the wilted flowers that Stiles had left.
Her eyebrow shot up.
“Stiles,” she said and shook her head. “I know I should say it’s the thought that counts, but something tells me these flowers were not given to him willingly.”
Lydia rolled her eyes but a slow smirk crept on her face. She softly bit her lower lip as if to keep from smiling even more.
Stiles could always make her smile.
Some things never change.
She sniffled and crossed her arms before looking to the left, then to the right at the headstones on either side of mine.
“Pretty flowers.” Each had flowers planted at the base of the headstone and they were in full bloom this time of year.
Lydia let out a huff and titled her head and bent down. She picked up the flowers Stiles had left. “Oh, Stiles. A for effort.” She set them on top of my headstone.
Then, her green eyes darted back and forth. She looked up toward the sun and checked her phone. I could see the wheels turning in her head and in an instant she was gone.
Just me again.
I wasn’t sure how long she was gone but before I knew it, she had returned.
Her strawberry blonde curls bounced as she walked to my headstone with purpose. In her hands she held a black tray of bright, yellow flowers. A canvas bag swung from the bend in one arm, her purse on the other. She set them all down on the grass.
What are you doing?
“You need flowers. Now, I have never done any gardening before this very moment, nor do I have any experience in botany, but it’s biology. I got an A in AP Biology,” she said quickly in her raspy voice. “I will not have my best friend’s grave being the only one without decent flowers. Not that the ones pulled from someone’s yard by my cheap but well-meaning boyfriend, aren’t decent, of course.”
Her cheeks reddened.
Finally.
She smiled as she unpacked the shopping bag. Each item she pulled out still had a price tag attached to it. She didn’t even bother to remove the tag from the green gardening clothes before slipping them on.
“Okay, so based on the amount of sun and the heartiness of the species, I went with the Tagetes patula.” Lydia explained. “Marigolds, if you aren’t familiar with the Latin term.”
Lydia took the small hand shovel and began digging in front of my headstone, making a small dirt pile off to the side. “These will hold up well and your Dad won’t have to do too much. Just water and pick off the dead heads. I will email him the care instructions when I get home. Or maybe I’ll just send them to Scott’s mom.”
She pulled the first cluster of flowers out and placed the clump of dirt that hung under them into the ground. “This color is perfect. And they are French Marigolds, which seemed fitting.”
She continued digging and planting. Digging and planting.
There was a gentle calm to her that I hadn’t noticed the last time she visited. She was always confident and strong but now, she had an ease to her too.
Sweat beaded on her forehead as she meticulously placed each flower into the ground.
“There,” she said when the tray was empty.
She sat back on her heels and pulled her green gardening gloves off, letting them fall to the ground. Her smile fell as she sat back with her legs tucked under her. She stared at my headstone as the breeze caught her hair.
“I miss you, Allison.” Lydia pursed her lips.
I miss you too.
“It still doesn’t feel real. Not that anything in our lives is really all that centered in reality,” she pointed her finger. “But this. You. That still feels like a really bad dream.”
Give it time.
Lydia sighed and pulled a bottle of water from her bag. As she took a drink, a buzz came from her purse. Lydia pulled her phone out and smirked as she clicked the speaker button.
“Hi Miechy!” She said and set the phone down.
“Lydia, you know I hate that nickname, right?”
“I know, but it’s adorable when I say it, isn’t it?” She grinned mischievously at her phone.
“Everything is adorable coming from those lips. Where are you, it sounds windy.”
“Oh, I have you on speaker because my face is all sweaty.” She looked at her hands. “Ew, and these gloves were a terrible investment because there is dirt under my fingernails.”
“What? Are you okay?” His tone changed to worried. “Where are you?”
“I’m fine. Just visiting Allison.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay, do you want me to come there?”
“No, no, I’m just finishing up. You can meet me at my house if you want,” Lydia replied.
“I’m already here.”
She leaned closer to her phone. “Good. I’ll meet you in the shower.”
Stiles mumbled incoherently. “Yeah, um, okay, yeah.”
“Love you. See you in a few.” She clicked the phone.
“That’s still too fun.” Lydia said as she tossed her phone back into her purse.
Lydia poured water from her water bottle onto the golden flowers and saved herself one final sip. She gathered her supplies onto the tray and hooked her purse and the canvas bag on her arm before she stood.
She waited until the wind rustled the trees one more time.
Tell my Dad that I love him. And Scott. Tell him too.
“I will.” Lydia replied softly.
Bye Lydia.
She looked up at the trees but they were still. The wind had died down again and all that I could hear were the birds chirping.
And judging by the look on her face, I knew that’s all she could hear too.
“Bye Allison.”
And then she was gone.
(All rights to Teen Wolf and the characters to MTV)
Part Two: Lydia
The slam of a car door in the parking lot broke the silence of the cemetery that windy morning. The birds shuffled from the ground and flew up into the trees, as her high heels clicked across the pavement.
Lydia.
She stopped at the foot of my grave and pressed her bright red lips together. She didn’t look at my headstone like Stiles had, instead, she looked around, her eyes wide. She cleared her throat and shook her head.
“Quiet please.”
Banshee stuff.
Lydia lifted her chin and let out a long sigh through a small part in her lips. She didn’t look as comfortable here as Stiles had and didn’t visit nearly as often but I knew she’d come today. She finally focused on my headstone for a few moments. Her eyes welled.
Don’t cry, Lydia.
“Hi Allison.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
She always cried when she came to visit. Especially the first time. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. I watched her eyes trace the letters on my headstone but her sadness switched to annoyance when her focus landed on the wilted flowers that Stiles had left.
Her eyebrow shot up.
“Stiles,” she said and shook her head. “I know I should say it’s the thought that counts, but something tells me these flowers were not given to him willingly.”
Lydia rolled her eyes but a slow smirk crept on her face. She softly bit her lower lip as if to keep from smiling even more.
Stiles could always make her smile.
Some things never change.
She sniffled and crossed her arms before looking to the left, then to the right at the headstones on either side of mine.
“Pretty flowers.” Each had flowers planted at the base of the headstone and they were in full bloom this time of year.
Lydia let out a huff and titled her head and bent down. She picked up the flowers Stiles had left. “Oh, Stiles. A for effort.” She set them on top of my headstone.
Then, her green eyes darted back and forth. She looked up toward the sun and checked her phone. I could see the wheels turning in her head and in an instant she was gone.
Just me again.
I wasn’t sure how long she was gone but before I knew it, she had returned.
Her strawberry blonde curls bounced as she walked to my headstone with purpose. In her hands she held a black tray of bright, yellow flowers. A canvas bag swung from the bend in one arm, her purse on the other. She set them all down on the grass.
What are you doing?
“You need flowers. Now, I have never done any gardening before this very moment, nor do I have any experience in botany, but it’s biology. I got an A in AP Biology,” she said quickly in her raspy voice. “I will not have my best friend’s grave being the only one without decent flowers. Not that the ones pulled from someone’s yard by my cheap but well-meaning boyfriend, aren’t decent, of course.”
Her cheeks reddened.
Finally.
She smiled as she unpacked the shopping bag. Each item she pulled out still had a price tag attached to it. She didn’t even bother to remove the tag from the green gardening clothes before slipping them on.
“Okay, so based on the amount of sun and the heartiness of the species, I went with the Tagetes patula.” Lydia explained. “Marigolds, if you aren’t familiar with the Latin term.”
Lydia took the small hand shovel and began digging in front of my headstone, making a small dirt pile off to the side. “These will hold up well and your Dad won’t have to do too much. Just water and pick off the dead heads. I will email him the care instructions when I get home. Or maybe I’ll just send them to Scott’s mom.”
She pulled the first cluster of flowers out and placed the clump of dirt that hung under them into the ground. “This color is perfect. And they are French Marigolds, which seemed fitting.”
She continued digging and planting. Digging and planting.
There was a gentle calm to her that I hadn’t noticed the last time she visited. She was always confident and strong but now, she had an ease to her too.
Sweat beaded on her forehead as she meticulously placed each flower into the ground.
“There,” she said when the tray was empty.
She sat back on her heels and pulled her green gardening gloves off, letting them fall to the ground. Her smile fell as she sat back with her legs tucked under her. She stared at my headstone as the breeze caught her hair.
“I miss you, Allison.” Lydia pursed her lips.
I miss you too.
“It still doesn’t feel real. Not that anything in our lives is really all that centered in reality,” she pointed her finger. “But this. You. That still feels like a really bad dream.”
Give it time.
Lydia sighed and pulled a bottle of water from her bag. As she took a drink, a buzz came from her purse. Lydia pulled her phone out and smirked as she clicked the speaker button.
“Hi Miechy!” She said and set the phone down.
“Lydia, you know I hate that nickname, right?”
“I know, but it’s adorable when I say it, isn’t it?” She grinned mischievously at her phone.
“Everything is adorable coming from those lips. Where are you, it sounds windy.”
“Oh, I have you on speaker because my face is all sweaty.” She looked at her hands. “Ew, and these gloves were a terrible investment because there is dirt under my fingernails.”
“What? Are you okay?” His tone changed to worried. “Where are you?”
“I’m fine. Just visiting Allison.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay, do you want me to come there?”
“No, no, I’m just finishing up. You can meet me at my house if you want,” Lydia replied.
“I’m already here.”
She leaned closer to her phone. “Good. I’ll meet you in the shower.”
Stiles mumbled incoherently. “Yeah, um, okay, yeah.”
“Love you. See you in a few.” She clicked the phone.
“That’s still too fun.” Lydia said as she tossed her phone back into her purse.
Lydia poured water from her water bottle onto the golden flowers and saved herself one final sip. She gathered her supplies onto the tray and hooked her purse and the canvas bag on her arm before she stood.
She waited until the wind rustled the trees one more time.
Tell my Dad that I love him. And Scott. Tell him too.
“I will.” Lydia replied softly.
Bye Lydia.
She looked up at the trees but they were still. The wind had died down again and all that I could hear were the birds chirping.
And judging by the look on her face, I knew that’s all she could hear too.
“Bye Allison.”
And then she was gone.
(All rights to Teen Wolf and the characters to MTV)
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