Athazagoraphobia

Ignored: Ava Mills

A month earlier, on February 19th, in Lynchburg, Virginia, Ava Mills went to visit her father's grave.

It was a chilly day. The sun hid behind a few light grey clouds, which didn't look malicious but had the ability to transform into thunderous black clouds at any given moment, and a few raindrops fell from time to time as the clouds tested the land.

Though the population of this city was just above seventy five thousand, the myriads of graves made the town look bigger than it actually was. Ava felt like a tiny speck compared to the world around her and she couldn't help but think that one day, in the future, she too would be brought to this cemetery and a grave, just like the ones that were around her, would be dug especially for her. She would be buried six feet underneath and here she would lay for years, centuries, and eons before judgment day.

As Ava walked along the thin stone walkway, made especially for visitors, she felt the lingering souls of the buried men and women. There were thousands of graves in this cemetery; some were freshly dug, some were in the process of being excavated, and some were old and worn down by the elements.

As the wind mixed with the lingering spirits, the hair on Ava's arms stood up and goose bumps arose on her skin. She looked for her father's grave, which had been dug nearly a year ago, which she hadn't visited since that fateful day, but all the graves looked alike to her. She clutched the flowers tightly in her hand and, looking down at the ground, prayed that she found her father's grave before it was too late.

The walkway began to get slippery as the rain picked up momentum and speed. As Ava became engrossed in her thoughts, she lost her footing and fell onto her backside. The flowers never left her hand; her grip was too tight for them to fall out of her grasp. Her grey dress, the same one that she wore and reserved specifically for this day, became soiled as the dirt from the graves mixed with the rain and became mud.

She cursed out loud, but, remembering that she was surrounded by dead people, immediately apologized.

The rain ceased abruptly, which made Ava sigh in relief, but intuitively she knew that the clouds weren't done releasing their watery fury and so, she walked quickly while trying to remember where her father had been buried.

Two hundred steps, two near slips, and one black cloud later, Ava found her father's grave.

The rain began pouring down, getting faster by the second, and Ava's clothes and hair began to cling to her body.

"Dad," she whispered, placing her hand on the soil, "Can you hear me?"

The clouds roared and somewhere, far away, a wisp of lightning fell.

"I'm sorry that I don't visit so often, but it - it hurts Dad."

"Please talk to me Dad," her voice began to crack, "No one talks to me anymore - they all avoid me like the plague."

She wiped her black curls away from her face. Her eyelashes dripped with both rain drops and tears.

"They say that you're a murderer, but that's not true, is it Dad?"

Her pale pink lips quivered as more tears fell down her face. This was her lowest point by far. She was an open book, bare and vulnerable, and though she was well on her way to adulthood, in that moment, she looked like a young, broken child.

"They think that you murdered Grandma and Aunt Natalia before committing suicide, but I know that's not the truth," tears roll down her face, mixing with the rain until no outsider could tell the difference between the two, "Mom believes them too."

"I don't know what to do Dad," she sobbed like a woman and a child alike, "I've yelled, I've screamed, and I've told the whole world that you're innocent, but it's like I'm invisible."