She sat, still as a statue, staring at her grave. She had so many questions. There were so many things she didn't remember. But tonight was different. Tonight, she wasn't wondering about her death, of her life, of her family. Tonight she was wondering about the dozen red roses that had been placed on her grave every day for the past week.
Tonight she had seen a man coming. He was going to put more roses, as well as a small package. He wasn't going to come hack after that.
He didn't disappoint her. He came about midnight. He didn't seem surprised to see her.
They stared at each other wordlessly. He moved toward her. He wasn't even slightly familiar, except for the golden eyes
He stepped towards her and touched her face. She instinctively flinched away. But there was something deep in his eyes. Beyond the gold. They were brown, she thought. Then she was unsure. The thought had been one moment of clarity, then it was unclear again.
He handed her the package she had seen in her vision. Then he knelt down and lay the roses across her grave. He smiled sadly at her, before turning and walking away. But not before saying, "You will find me if you look."
She stared at the package in her hands, then at the gravestone.
Mary Alice Brandon
Beloved daughter and sister
She slowly untied the ribbon holding together the package of envelopes.
Dear Ali,
I know you don't like nicknames, but you'll make an exception for your best friend, right Ali? It's short for Alice, get it. I thought you might like it, even though you never let anyone call you Alice. But there are so many people named Mary. In my new school there are two. I wanted you to be special. I miss you, Ali. I know I just moved away from Biloxi, but it feels like it's been ages since I've seen you.
John
Dear John,
Okay, you can call me Ali. But don't go spreading it around. I don't want other people thinking it's okay to come up with nicknames for me. I know it's been too long since we've seen each other, but I know you'll be okay. I have this very strong feeling. I hope things work out for me, though. I have this sense of impending doom. Like something terrible is going to happen.
Mary Alice
She touched the letter, faded with age. She had written this. In another time, as another person, but in the same town she was now standing in. and who was John? He had written that he was her best friend, but there were roses… And he was a vampire now. Why, as a vampire, would he still leave roses on her grave. Had he known before that night that she was a vampire? She opened another letter.
Dear Ali,
I've missed you terribly. It's boring here. But I guess you were right about things being good for me. Mother is going to have a baby! And we're coming back to Biloxi in a couple of months, as she wants my baby brother or sister to be born in her hometown! And we wont leave until at least a month after that! I don't know why mother and father would move here and then spend so much time in Biloxi so soon after moving, but isn't it wonderful! I'll get to see you!
John
P.S. I am sure you are wrong about impending doom. You must have the brightest future. You're going to be the first woman president probably!
Dear John,
It is amazing that you are coming back to Biloxi! I cannot wait. I want you to meet my new friend Eliza. She is not as dear to me as you are, but she is almost as fun to climb trees with! Do you really think I could be president? I don't know. It seems like a stretch. And I cant get rid of this horrible feeling.
Yesterday I had a feeling that our teacher would be at home sick, and she was! Another woman was here instead. She was very nice, I suppose. I wasn't really paying attention. I was writing the first half of this letter at the end of the day!
Mary Alice
Dear Ali,
You really predicted that teacher was going to be gone? Are you psychotic? Oh, I asked mother how you spell that and she told me psychotic meant crazy. I'm sorry. You aren't too crazy Ali! Oh, I have to go now. Mother is sick and father is gone.
John
They had been friends. And she had been a child one. The letters were not dated, but she had a feeling it was still a couple of years before she went to the asylum. She retied the ribbon around the envelopes and decided to start home. She would be in Forks by midday, she thought, looking at the purple playing at the edges of the sky.