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A gentle breeze rustled the trees, taking leaves and flowers from their homes and moving them forth to a place they would create their own families. The sun hid behind endless patches of clouds, seemingly in a rather shy mood.
Charlie sat in a field of stones, legs crossed and a little batch of flowers nestled between her fingers. She listened to the sound of the earth around her, admiring the way it always tended to move on — even if it's inhabitants didn't.
"I'm sorry I haven't visited." Her voice was merely a whisper, just a breath among the wind. "Things were going good. The shelter, school and.." She paused, eyes falling to the flimsy flowers she'd gotten from a cheap cart on the street. "I even met a guy.. I think you would have liked him. He's.. He's different." She smiled, one that showed every piece of pain and sadness she felt.
"I don't know if Xavier has visited.. I doubt it, but he was released from prison." She drew in a shaky breath. "I know that I should be happy. He's family, right?" Her shoulders slumped forward. "The only family I have left." A warm breeze drifted past her, caressing her skin as if offering a comforting kiss. She smiled. "I miss you guys."
Charlie sighed and lifted her wrist to check the time. She was due for work in less than an hour. "I've got to go. I'll try and visit again soon." She stood, brushing her jeans of dirt and grass. Before she left, she brushed her fingers over the names etched onto the stones that had began to age with time.
Lily Anne Webster
(1965-1992)
A loving mother, daughter, wife and sister.
Charles Xavier Webster
(1964-1992)
A loving father, son and husband.
"I love you guys."
With a final, shaky breath, Charlie brushed her fingers under her eyes and left the life she never would experience behind her.
—
The calls began on a Wednesday. They would call once and then kill the line before she could answer. Then, once she managed to answer in time, the only thing on the other line would be breathing. When she stopped answering, they would call for hours and hours until she finally turned the damn thing off.
It was a reminder — she had less than half a month left.
The knowledge that she had barely scraped up a quarter of the money kept her up until the first rays of the morning.
How would she get the money in time? This wasn't about Xavier anymore — it was her life on the line. She could only imagine what they would do to her. The stories parents told their children could soon become a reality for her.
