Polaroids and Postcards | ✔️

Chapter 18: Flowers and Farewells

"Travel isn't always pretty. It isn't always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that's okay." - Anthony Bourdain

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It is said that the fear of death is only the second most-common fear in the world—right behind public-speaking. I personally think that's complete bull. Deep down, all of our worst fears are somehow connected to death. Fear of heights, fear of the darkness, fear of monsters, fear of embarrassment... which is basically an emotional death, if we're honest.

As Della Rae unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the driver door, that familiar shadow of fear slowly washed over me. Why were we at a freaking cemetery when it was nearing the time of the evening when the sun was supposed to set? What did she mean by 'visiting' someone? How did she know how to find this place in the middle of Nowhere-Land Mississippi?

"Come on, Lovett," she coaxed, gently removing the pink flower lei that was hanging from the rearview mirror and grasping it delicately in her hands. "We need to get out there before it gets too dark."

I hesitantly unbuckled my seatbelt and reached over to unlock my door. My heart and head had started to play funny games with my stomach, and the stupid echo of my morbid joke from my first meeting with Della started ringing in my ears.

She could be an organ-thief who sells body parts on Ebay...

I shuddered, wishing my mind wasn't so dark in times like these.

We walked together, crossing through the huge gates. The grass... it was so green. So thick and soft. And the trees that were scattered here and there cast a dim shade down to block out the powerful rays of the setting sun. A gust of wind passed through and chilled me. Or maybe it was my nerves. Or maybe it was Della's overwhelming silence beside me.

Her expression was one of complete solemnity. And her steps were straight and sure—as if she knew exactly where she was going. She always did walk with assurance.

We passed dozens of headstones. Rows and rows of names.

Lives lost.

Flowers and flags.

Death.

I wanted to speak, but my mouth was too dry. And what would I say? There were no words. I just clenched my teeth and walked close beside Della, following her lead.

I shouldn't have been shocked when she stopped abruptly. She stared directly at one particular stone marker in the distance. I shouldn't have been scared... but I was. My heart missed a beat or two. I tried to steady my hands, but they wouldn't stop shaking.

"D-Della...?" I choked.

"I found it," she breathed, instantly leaping forward, running down a bit ahead of me.

Naturally, I dashed after her, but I avoided looking at the stone. I couldn't. What awful secret was Della going to reveal to me? Who was dead? Why was she being so mysterious?

Finally, Della stopped again, bending over the headstone. I wandered behind her, but kept a respectable distance. The way she stood, she blocked the name from my view. But I wasn't complaining.

The sun was quickly sinking, and the sky was a rich gold and red, smeared with pink and purple. It was powerful. And terrifying. It changed the lighting, making everything around us seem as though it had been seeped in honey and amber. Everything was amplified. It was heavy. A tired sort of hue.

Della let out a soft sigh, which instantly made me ponder on something... It is so odd how there are many types of sighs. It's like an entirely different language. Some sighs communicate happiness and contentment. Others relay sadness or pain. Some, anger. But when Della sighed, it carried a meaning I couldn't decipher.