Ffffft!
It was amazing, how much a simple little match could illuminate a room. Smiling sadly at the flame as it ate its way down the wooden stick, Harriet watched her hand tremble while she lit the lone, white candle in the tower.
The wick lit up in a flare of light, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered, "Lily."
She shook out the flame when she felt it begin to burn her thumb, and stared for a long moment at the wax, dribbling down toward the windowsill.
It was Samhain, All Hallows Eve, the night when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead was at its thinnest. "Mum," the dark haired teen whispered with a shuddering breath. "Mum, I miss you. I want... I want to remember you. More than your death, but – if that's all I have – I suppose I'll live with it. I just wanted... I only wanted to say that I love you. That I hope you can hear me saying that."
Harriet shook her head. "Like I'll ever know if you can – for goodness' sake, I'm talking to you and you're dead. I must be barmy. But..." She glanced around, trying to find the right words. "But, yeah, you're dead. You and Dad died fourteen years ago. But you're still my parents, and if you can hear me, well, I want you to."
The stubby white candle flickered, the low, blue flame almost dying. "At any rate, I hope you're happy now, wherever you are, and a … a very Merry Samhain to you," the teen said in a rush, standing. She pinched out the flame, ignoring the slight pain from the burn it gave her, and stuffed the candle unceremoniously in her school bag, her yearly ritual done with. She kept her eyes cast on the floor the rest of the trip from the tower room, trying to hold back tears of loss.
She never saw the pale glimmer of a red-haired woman watching after her, sad smile in place, as it was every year.
.
13 March 2013, 12:27 AM.
Well. That's posted rather early, isn't it?
