What is dead may never die. || Closed.
The stale stench of the motel's lobby still clung to the collar of his coat; to the scarf around his throat; to the curls around his ears; and it followed him like an unwanted reminder as Mason walked by his car, neglecting the safety of it. Naturally, a reminder of what he was doing here. Not to say the eyes of the town seniors following his lean figure as he moved through town didn't remind him enough. Mason had always been glad that his hometown was a town of such minute stature, though that had been when he was younger, and craved more attention - walking through town at this moment was the first moment in his life Mason found himself uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving. Though Emerald Cove was chilly at best nowadays - with fall settling down slowly but steadily; the gloominess of the season was most notable this far into the country. A sea of grey stretched across the sky, obscuring it, and casting a shade over everything beneath it. Mason's hometown was no exception to fall, and he moved through the haze of grey, dark, brown, hazel, wine and iron houses; crossed bleak streets and took turns, looking to say the least as if he was used to it. And of course this drew attention. Not that Mason particularly recognized any of the wide eyes or open mouths as he passed, though he wouldn't doubt they recognized him. But frankly, his mind was too tired. For all of it. It was bad enough being back here on this particular day; and being back all alone -- Mason would feel dimensions worse if he stumbled upon an old familiar face, reminding him of the days in which his parents had still been alive. Stories -- he would no doubt hear loads of them. Memories -- they'd never stop pour, not until he could do naught but clutch his curls, bend over and try to force them out of his psyche. And then came the dreams -- the dreams he'd have that night, of his parents; his brother; his entire childhood. No, he echoed, he mustn't stop. Not for anyone. He mustn't talk, he mustn't relive, he mustn't reminisce. Not here. Not now. So Mason kept on going. He kept his steps active on the road he'd gone down for a few years now -- for the first time ever, alone. And soon enough, he had to stop. He had to reach his goal. As much as Mason wished the entire graveyard would have vanished in thin air, left no trace of its inhabitants, left no trace of memories and pain, he knew very well it would lay there, dutifully waiting for the mourners. And today, Mason was one of them. His eyelids were heavy; shrouded, and his shoulders had a tense ache to them, as he slowly wove his way through the many stones of certified deaths. Mason could feel the burning betrayal of his grief spread from his chest, reaching his eyes and warming his cheeks. It didn't take long for him to find the stones in particular -- the ones with names engraved that though belonging to adults, were far too early engraved for comfort. His parents. A shiver went down his spine. Mason had often found it hard to discover comfort in anything regarding his parents, ever since they passed away. Mainly so because they weren't meant to have passed away, but also because... because grief was such an overwhelming feeling. He doubted, as he knelt in the dewy grass, that even Ava's arms tight around his chest -- even the strong Valkyrie's attempt at keeping the grief from exploding uncomfortably throughout his chest -- would succeed. He hadn't brought anything. Jesse always took care of that, but... Jesse wasn't here today. Not this September 20. For some unknown reason, Mason had to go through this deathday all alone. Kneeling in front of his parents' grave, Mason's heavy lids slid close, and he found himself unable to look upon everything that was left of his parents. Frowning, it took no time at all until the burning betrayal of grief, pain and anger sent tears racing down his cheeks. Drawing a jagged breath, not aware that he'd held it in, Mason put his hands, palms down, in the dewy grass in front of his stained knees. If the Buddhists were wrong, and there was such a thing as vulnerability, Mason was broken down to the core; an exposed nerve, and his broad shoulders heaved in the overwhelming grief of his dead parents.
