The man walked slowly down the dirt path, through the endless rows of gravestones resting silently. His feet scraped the ground, his hand in his pocket and his head hanging low, a cotton hood covering his blond hair. It seemed as if the world was still as he gradually made his way down the path. All that could be heard was his soft breathing as he concentrated on leaving his mind blank, trying not to remember.
As more and more trees entered the picture, the less and less he felt the "official" graveyard feeling. Walking another few paces, he lost sight of any formal gravestones and felt surrounded by huge oaks and tender elms whose branches were tightly woven together. The dirt path was merely a trail now, and as he stumbled upon the many roots tears threatened to flow, until finally he was there.
Staring hopelessly at a single gravestone, he crouched down to wipe away the growing leaves and masses of dust that covered the one word written on the stone: Mya. It was simple, written in Times New Roman font- nothing too fancy. The man let out a sweet, barely noticeable smile. He looked down at the three roses in his hand: one white, one pink and one red. Her favourites.
"Draco!" she let out a high-pitched scream as his hands touched her hip again, tickling her mercilessly.
"Come on Mya, tell me!" he implied, kicking his feet off the ground another time, rocking his body backwards, then forwards.
"Okay…" her face turned solemn as she whispered "white's for you."
"Why white? I prefer black!"
"Because… because white represents you." She got on the swing with him and wrapped he arms around his neck. "I know that down there, at the core of your charcoal heart, I know that's where all your good is. You just keep it-" she bent down towards his ear, whispering "-secret." She went back to her original position. "You hide it from the world." She smiled and leaned down to place a tiny, yet meaningful kiss on his nose.
He sighed as he as he glanced at the white rose once again, his eyes fluttered shut as he put it to his lips, leaving a tiny, yet meaningful kiss on it's tip.
"What about the pink one?"
"I used to love pink when I was younger. My parents always bought me pink purse and… frilly dresses." She looked at Draco thoughtfully. "I guess it reminds me that there is always happiness, how little it may be, in everything. I always think of pink when I feel down and depressed, when I don't have the will to live."
He looked at the pink rose, and a single tear fell down his cheek. He shook his head silently and wiped the tear away. ''I'll try to be happy for you Mya.'' He let go of the rose. Its descent was sweet and gentle, like a morning breeze.
"And red?" he cut the calming silence with her next color.
"It… it means death."
"Then why in the world would it be your favorite color?" he asked surprised.
"To remind me..." Draco nodded, he knew how sensitive she was about her parent's death. "Most people say it means love, but I think that's bullshit. Red is the color of blood. It's your vital source, you can die without it… and when you do die, you see… more red… then ever…" she smiled, fighting back the tears.
Draco glared at the rose. It threw it on the grave and grounded it into the dirt with his shoe. Then, spitefully, he let out a hoarse growl. "You never deserved death Mya." He turned around and walked swiftly back down the path, to his white Toyota. Not once did he look back at the three graves: his fiancée and her parents.
As he sat back down into his seat, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked back at the little girl sitting dutifully in her children's seat, happily munching a twizzler.
"Daddy?" she inquired.
"Yes Emma?"
"What were you doing over there?"
"I was… paying my respects to a relative."
"Why?" her three year old mind did not understand.
"It was… well… that person died 2 years ago…"
"Exactly?" even at such a young age, she already thought like her mother.
"Yes."
"Can we go to Toy's R Us now?" so much for being like her mother.
"Sure. It is your birthday after all. But… remember! Only 3 presents."
"4???" she asked, pouting a bit.
"Er…. No." it took him a bit longer than he would of wished to reply. "But, we might go and pick up some ice cream after if you're a girl girl!"
"Yay!"
"But you have to be good." He tickled her side and started the car.
"Daddy?" she asked again.
"Yes Emma?"
"I love you." She smiled, and Draco smiled back, though he could only picture the blonde girl as he mother: a goddess with brown curls that crowned her face who happened to have that exact, loving innocent smile.
As Draco drove them away, he caught glimpse of a single rose petal flying away, and he could of sworn he heard a crystalline laugh in the distance.