2015 A.D.
Blackpool, Lancashire
The air in Blackpool was heavy, the kind of overcast sky that almost seem to press against the earth like a shroud; the mist rolled lazily from the Irish sea, curling its damp fingers around aged stones of the Layton Cemetery; it was quiet there, save for the occasional cry of a distant gull present within the grounds, or the soft crunching of gravel underfoot along the pathway.
Raven’s silvery-grey eyes were red and raw, she had come seeking peace; there was so much going through her head as of late, she had found the grave she had been wanting to find, and found herself sitting down in front of the old grave marker; clutching against her chest a worn book, at her feet rested some flowers she had brought to pay respect; the headstone leaned like a tired sentinel.
The grave was exactly as she remembered from the last time she had visited, she was much younger then, she had come with her Mother and Grandfather, it bore the name; Lydia Langdon, Raven had never met Lydia before, Lydia had died well before even her mother had been born, but the stories she head heard from her Grandfather about her, they painted a picture of someone that Raven just couldn’t help but wish to be like, she was said to be kind despite her dangerous personality; Raven’s hands though trembled as she sat staring in the silence.
She had a storm roiling in her mind, she leaned forwards a little from her seated position, reaching hand forwards, gently tracing her fingers over Lydia’s name “I’m sorry” she whispered, her voice cracked like brittle glass “I..” she stammered “I don’t even know if you would want to hear from me”
She would though.
Watching silently from beyond the veil of the living world; Lydia stood, she was behind her Great Granddaughter, in appearance, she stood not much different from the woman she had been decades ago, her spectral form flickered faintly, she was caught between longing and helpless sorrow as she gaze upon her Great-Granddaughter; she had often paid attention to her family, even after death, but never had she seen Raven so broken, it pierced the corners of her spirit – a Ghostly ache.
But Lydia could not speak; the rules of existence didn’t allow for that, instead she could only stand watching her descendant pour her heart out to her weathered headstone.
“I’ve been nothing but a failure to you” Raven said, her voice breaking; she brought her hand away from the headstone, she pulled her knee’s close to her chest, hugging her arms around them like a frightened child “You’d be disappointed in what I am, who I am; failed everything, and I wasn’t smart enough to just do what I should have done; no one would have ever taken advantage of you”
Raven whimpered as she stared with blurred vision “I’m nothing but a burden on everyone around me” she sniffed, moving her hand up to her eyes a moment, though tears would still fall down her reddened cheeks “I thought…, I thought coming here, if I talked to you, maybe it would help me” she took in a sharp breath “But I’ve got nothing to show for myself Nana”
Lydia gently shifted her position; she peered at her Great-Granddaughter with an intensity that would have been comforting had it not gone unseen “Oh my dear girl, if only you knew what things were like inside my head when I was a young girl; the things I did that I wasn’t proud of, the life I had to live; the world looks so different from where I am standing now” Her thoughts dissolved into the formless void she now existed within
After some silence; Raven shifted her position, moving the worn book down beside her; she then started to dig her hand into the inside pocket, she found what she was looking for not that long after a little rummaging in her pocket; pulling a small cardboard box out; it contained matches, she placed them into her lap a moment as she put her hand yet again into her pocket ; producing a small candle and she looked at the grave a moment, then began to fumble about; one matchstick spluttered weakly into life before being blown out by a breeze, another failed in her shaking hands; eventually she would manage to light the wick of the candle; it’s small flame danced defiantly against the grey sky, the orange glow reflected against her face, it illuminated her tears “I can’t even do this right” she muttered bitterly
“I.., I thought I would be someone you’d be proud of; like Eliza, like Mum…, you was amazing; the stories I was told, I loved each one of them, I wanted to be like you; I’m just nothing though; a nobody” bowing her head against her knee’s, her shoulders shook as quiet sobs overtook her, for a moment all she could hear was the quiet rustling of the wind
Lydia observed; she watched, her translucent form grew dim beneath the sorrowful weight of seeing Raven like this; she did find a smile would curve her lips momentarily though at the thought of how stories of her would have been told, stories that most likely had been embellished with some kind of rosy glow about them; more than likely none of them would have had much truth to them; the truth was far messier; the life she had lived was dangerous, filled with death and devastation; with pain and loss, it was what made Lydia who she had been; while here Raven carried her own burdens, believing herself unworthy, imagining she was expecting to meet some kind of legacy to earn her love.
It hurt Lydia more than anything she’d experienced in her living years; she had no words to give, only a desperate yearning to let her Great-Granddaughter know she wasn’t alone; she wasn’t unworthy, but words belonged to the living.
Taking a moment, Lydia moved; lowering herself to Raven’s level and she reached out, but hesitated a moment; her ghostly form flickering faintly in doubt; what if her touch wasn’t felt, but as Raven’s sobs grew quieter, the agony was to much to ignore. Lydia steeled her resolve.
Her hand passed through the thick veil of existence and brushed lightly, it was so light it was barely more than a whisper against Raven’s trembling shoulder.
Raven froze; for one impossible moment, it was like a fog in her mind and the ache in her chest stood still; there was a warmth, not physical; but deeply soothing, like stepping into the sunlight after a long storm, though the foggy wind still blew against her skin, the sensation was fleeting yet unmistakable.
Raven straightened slightly, confusion mingling with the hint of peace that ghostly touch left behind; slowly, Raven glanced upwards, it was irrational, but she felt she needed to look around; the wind stirred the grass, the grey sky gave no answers, yet something in her heart felt…, lighter.
“I…” she began, but she stopped; she swallowed the knot in her throat “Maybe.., maybe you are watching over me” she whispered; her words were quiet, but they carried a depth she hadn’t felt in days “I.., don’t know what I am supposed to do” she admitted as her eyes gazed upon the headstone “But I will keep trying…, for you.., and for me; I don’t know what else to do…”
Her words wouldn’t go unanswered, not in the way Raven might have hoped for, but a sense of calm settled deeply into her; Lydia, her Great-Grandmother stood a moment longer in silence; she had no smile, no ghostly tears; but her presence radiated a quiet pride, then, faint as a candle flickering out, her spirit faded into the mist, leaving Raven to her thoughts.
Raven wiped her eyes and took a shaky breath before rising to her feet; her limps still felt heavy; but the despair had softened, ever so slightly; she pressed a kiss to her fingers before she touched the headstone “Thank you” she whispered; she wasn’t sure why she said the words, or if they’d even be enough, the wind carried her voice away and the graveyard faded into the sound of her retreating footsteps.
Nearby, the small candle Raven had lit burned steadfast against the breeze; though no one watched, it stayed alight until its wick was no more, its flame glowing softly against the encroaching twilight.
Written By: Westley H.
Leave a Reply