Sketch stared up at the sky with his head in his (sibling)’s lap. They were pointing out the clouds and the shapes they were. He didn’t care, but he nodded and smiled as Mom told him to do that. He didn’t understand why, but she said it made people more comfortable and happy. He thought the clouds look normal, but Mom said his big (sibling) was sensitive about stuff. He cared about his (sibling), so he smiled around them. Not all the time, but whenever he did, {Unavailable} seemed happier.
His older (sibling) started to mess with his curls before, gently, moving him off their lap. They stoop up and started walking around, picking flowers in the area. Sketch sat up to watch them. When they decided they had grabbed enough flowers they moved back to where they were sitting a few seconds earlier. {Unavailable} started to make something with the flowers they collected. Sketch stared for a few minutes before looking away. It was confusing to try and figure out what they were going, and he was getting bored from watching.
{Unavailable} poked his shoulder to get his attention. He turned back towards them and saw a flower crown in their hands. They smiled, and put it on his head after moving his hair out of the way. {Unavailable} seemed to brighten after putting the crown on him.
Sketch woke up before the dream (memory) was finished. To the harsh reality that his sibling was still in their grave. To the fact that his attempt to bring them back with {Unavailable}’s friends failed. To the cold empty house that was just him and the forever empty bed in the next room.
To the only reason he ever smiled being dead.
He wished that he kept that tiny flower crown from when he was younger, despite the withering flower and leaves.
