A/N: oi so this is my second fanfic ever. Today it's raining so I decided to be completely depressing on this one. Try not to burst into tears. Please.
If you looked closely you saw a flower lie atop the gravestone. It looked lonesome and tiny against the gray background. If the flower could convey the feelings of its owner you would see it shudder from the grief and longing over a lost love. It lay there restless, shivering in the loneliness of separation.
The graveyard was empty, as if no one had been there. But yet it was plain to see that the flower had been laid there only moments ago. No one had been seen entering the cemetery, or leaving for that matter. The graveyard itself was depressing and stereotypical. The consistent cover of clouds a dark reminder of the darker terrors, making one not want to think of this place at night.
The tombstone on which the flower lay was not that remarkable in and of itself. But the person in the ground seemed to be as the grave was littered with the withered husk of flowers laid on it before. If one kneeled you could see the swirling inscription on the gravestone.
Here lies Isabella Swan B. September 13, 1987 – D. November 21, 2005. Loving daughter, future mother and wife.
If you looked around the graveyard yet again you would see that your earlier assumptions about it being empty completely nullified as there were now two bodies in front of the tombstone. You swore to yourself that there had been no there earlier yet here were these two standing as if they had been there the whole time.
You could tell it was two females. One was a tiny girl with jet black hair that stood in every direction. Small enough to make you think of a pixie somehow. The other was a tall blond who was very beautiful if in a cold way. Not like the other girl who looked like a normally cheery person. She had her hand on the pixie girl as she hunched over, seemingly crying over the grave. Looking at her could break anyone's heart and hers was most definitely broken as her small frame shuddered over the grave.
The pixie girl was lost to everything around her over the grief that seemed to overwhelm everything else. Even the sky started to cry in grief with the little broken girl as she wept over the grave. Drops fell, dousing everything it touched. The blond woman looked at the sky but she never stopped comforting the small girl who seemed determined to join the girl in the grave.
There they remained until even the rain clouds deemed it necessary to abandon them. She finally stood after a long while. The small girl no- woman stood even though it seemed a reluctant move. As if there was nothing better in the world to do but cry over the grave of a deal girl.
You could tell by her face that she had been the owner of the flower on the tombstone and the many other flowers that laid scattered around it. You could tell by looking at her face, that this girl Isabella had been her lost love.