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Happy Birthday, momma
VENGEANCEHappy birthday, mommawww.roleplayer.me/skettidck
The sun's bright rays beat down on the scrawny, dark-haired young man as he stood in the cemetery. A tailored suit covered his thin frame. Pale blue eyes watered as he stared down at the headstone in front of him with a bouquet of roses in his hand. Grace Josephine Brandon
Beloved mother of three That was it. No design, no more words, no dates. N o t h i n g. Thomas refused to spend the money on a headstone - claiming it was a waste. Talon's grip on the stems of the flowers tightened, and the thorns punctured his palm and fingers as the rage toward his father made his heart pound harder and faster, echoing in his ears.
Talon knew it was her birthday, though. He would always remember that date. Even decades later, high out of his mind, Talon would remember that date.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was always a bright, cloudless day, May the second. In the South, that was rare. Afternoon thunderstorms usually rolled in, blocking the sun, but never on the second. The storms were in Talon's mind - his mind was always a mess on this day; no matter where he was or what he was doing, he always remembered to come home to Biloxi to visit his mother's grave.
The lanky vampire walked sullenly across the cemetery, his head hanging - dark locks dangled, framing his thin face. His left hand was stuffed into his leather jacket pocket, and his right held a bouquet of red roses. He did not need to look where he was going - he had been coming to this gravesite every year since 1919.
Talon hadn't expected his twin sister, Alice, to show up, so when her scent crossed his path, his head perked up, brows furrowing into his usual brood, as his pale blue contact-covered eyes scanned the grounds for her. She had already beaten him to the plot, her petite figure sitting in front of their mother's headstone.
Being twins, it always amused him how different they were in some aspects - like their height, what their human eye colors used to be, and how different their tastes in clothing and aesthetics were. Their similarities, however, far outweighed their differences. The two seemed to be on the same wavelength, no matter how much time they had spent apart; once reunited, it was like they shared the same brain.
Having only mentioned to her in a brief statement that he visited their mother's grave each year, Talon was shocked to find Alice here now. He knew the situation weighed heavily on her, even after all these years, and after all that she had endured, he could tell that Alice blamed herself, even though Talon had tried to convince her otherwise. Their pathetic excuse for a father would have done this even if Alice didn't have her premonitions.
Kneeling onto the damp grass beside her, Talon gently laid the flowers in front of their mother's headstone. "Happy birthday, momma." He said quietly as tears began rolling down his cheek while his gaze lingered on the headstone. He had replaced it around 1965 - removing the old, concrete one and replacing it with a white marble one. The new one had her name, birth date, and death date and read Grace Jopsehine Brandon. Beloved mother of Mary Alice, Talon Joseph, and Cynthia Marie Brandon. Gone too soon, but forever in our hearts.
He placed his hand gently on his sister's back and moved it slowly from side to side. "I miss her so much, Tally." Alice's voice was soft, barely a whisper. Her hazel irises lightened a few shades from the tears welling in her eyes. Talon nodded slowly, a sympathetic smile on his lips.
"I know, Ali. I do too." He leaned toward her, pressing his lips to her forehead; more tears fell from them both. Alice wrapped her arms around Talon's scrawny frame while he embraced her. "You gotta stop blaming yourself." He said sternly, knowing that the guilt of being unable to save their mother still haunted her all these years later.
That day, Talon had lost his best friend, mother, teacher, and confidant. Memories came flooding back - of him watching her cook; the three of them playing in the yard; the look she gave him whenever he wanted to wear nothing but black - the early 1900s did not suit Talon; dancing with her in the living room - she wanted nothing more than for her only son to marry a fantastic woman and sweep her off her feet with his dancing skills. Not once did Talon ever think there was anything Alice could have done to save her. The only one that blamed her was her.
No, Talon placed the blame on their father - Thomas. The abusive conman had to hire someone to kill Grace. The pathetic excuse of a man couldn't even do it himself. Their father was the one person Talon wished he had killed. Instead, the guilt of his first kill haunted him - he drained their stepmother dry in the kitchen the night he had become a vampire.
"I'm trying. I don't understand why I was shown the vision for months if I wasn't meant to save her." The tone in Alice's voice shifted from sadness to confused anger. Talon gave her a gentle squeeze as he shook his head.
"We may never understand your visions, and there's no changing the past, so it's best not to dwell on it, Alice." Saying the words and doing them were two very different things. Though he told his sister not to dwell on the past, it was often all Talon did. talon joseph Brandon
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