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Grade
9

 

 I.

It was the first time I had visited Lieutenant General Vivian’s grave since she had been shot to death by a Government army soldier, not including when I went to her funeral. The sun had started to set, casting an extraordinary prism of yellow and orange tones across the sky, which was painted with numerous golden clouds. A truly idyllic scene, to say it succinctly.

 

Her headstone laid under a large cherry blossom tree one that bloomed in late June and lost its flowers in the wake of September. Along with the tree’s blooms, many different types of flowers adorned her resting place. Many soldiers left camellias, for her last name had been Camellia. Others left roses, larkspurs, poppies Hell, there were so many flowers that I could never count all the different kinds. The individual army we were in, known as the Six Hundred, consisted of many people who thought we were like a gigantic family, and because of that, we all gave her blossoms so she knew how much we loved her.

 

They were all heartbroken when they heard the news; not because she was a significant member of our military being our lead strategist and tactician, but because she was no older than fourteen years old. Vivian had managed to convince her parents to let her join the Rebellion military, and she immediately applied to be a strategist. Her parents told me that she had been known as a local child genius, with a high IQ and a bright mind. Shockingly, she actually got the highest score on the Tactics exam, and I had no choice but to allow her to be a high rank as a result.

 

Instantly, I formed a bond with her. I had lost my own child due to my ex-fiancee having struggles that ended in a stillbirth, and I longed for the desire to have a daughter. The ecstasy of being able to live vicariously through her was possibly one of the best feelings I had ever known. I adored herwatching her every little action with curiosity and interest. From the way she talked, smiled… even just the little subconscious actions she performed when she was writing or planning. It had gotten to the point where I would accidentally refer to her as “my daughter” when conversing with others, which resulted in me covering my face in a feeling of discomfiture.

 

However, every part of our connection was crushed in mere seconds, on a day where the sky was overcast and the ground was cold. That day, where she went on the battlefield and was shot to death by a high-ranking General from the Government military. I remember holding her limp body, soothing her and trying to mitigate her agony as calmly as possible. She had been shot directly above the heart, and I knew there was nothing I could do to save her. Her last words were stifled, but they flowed out of her mouth as if she had planned to tell me this for a long time. She had said to me:

 

“Evans, you’ve done so much for me; I had to return the favor. Thank you for being such a great leader. No matter what happens, you’ll always be in my thoughts… Let’s see each other again soon, okay?”

 

I nodded to her, barely able to choke out the word “okay” through my tears. When she heard me, she closed her eyes and died with a smile on her face.

Standing up, I decided to stop lamenting the past for I would just become sullen and wistful thinking about her now-evanescent presence. Setting the carnations that I had left for her next to her stone, I turned and headed back to the military base, where my soldiers awaited me.

 

II.

 

I had lost count of how many times I had visited Vivian’s grave since her funeral. It had to have been at least two hundred. I tried to visit her grave daily whenever I was close enough. This time, I was filled with joy. With tears welling up in my eyes, I spoke to her; I knew she was listening.

 

“Vivian! Dear Vivian, we won the war! The Government military surrendered, and now we finally took power!” I fell onto the grass, digging my hands into the ground in front of her headstone, staring at the silent stone that was before me. I continued to smile, reading over her epitaph a few times before I eventually calmed down from excitement. I leaned back, my hands holding me up as I sprawled out on the ground. I took off my military jacket, setting it on the ground next to me and tilting my head to the side.

 

“Why did you leave such a negative thing on your epitaph, Vivian?” I read it again, paying careful attention to it once more.

 

VIVIANA ROSEANNA CAMELLIA
DECEMBER 24 - AUGUST 21

 

THE EVIL TRUTH IS ALWAYS BEHIND YOU

TO STAB YOU IN THE BACK

 

Why she asked for that on her headstone had always befuddled me. Perhaps, someone did something to her and she left behind a warning to others. Maybe she wanted to play a little joke and confuse everyone who read her stone. Either way, it was certainly an aberration from her usual demeanor, and I always felt strange after reading it. I knew so much about her, but this was the one thing I didn’t think I would ever comprehend.

 

I gave a small smile, shaking my head. “You really are an interesting girl, you know that? Did you want people to remember you in such a negative way?” I went silent for a moment, almost waiting for a response that I knew I would not receive and would not receive for quite a long time.

 

I stared at her headstone, thinking about the words and how they made my mind spiral into confusion. I read them over and over again, eventually giving up as I noticed the moon had risen high into the sky, and the mosquitoes were dining off my blood with perfunctory ease. I leaned forwards, wiping off some of the dirt on her resting marker with an aching arm, before putting on my jacket and buttoning it up. I waved farewell to her, smiling and telling her that I enjoyed her company.

 

As I headed down the hill, I saw a glimpse of her beautiful, glowing face for just a short moment.

 

III.

 

This time, I was not happy when I visited Vivian’s grave. I was choking on my own saliva, feeling as though I was about to vomit. I was sickened.

 

It had been about eight months since I had last been at her grave. In that time, I didn’t expect much to happen… and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

I had lost my quixotic view on life. My mind became ill -- telling me that my lust for peace could be achieved by ending it all— and I gave in. I woke up on the floor of my kitchen, curious as to what had happened.

 

Eventually, I remembered that I tried to overdose on medication. I barely escaped the maw of death.

 

I didn’t know whether I was happy about it or not at first. I ached to be with Vivian again. I wanted to see her beautiful face, and be able to embrace her fragile body in my arms. Over time, I became grateful that I didn’t die that night. It was a miracle, considering I lived alone in the middle of nowhere. Despite this, my mental health got worse. My mind was still sick, always telling me that I could try to kill myself again and be with my imitation daughter.

 

After a period of time, I couldn’t take it anymore. I got in my car and drove to Vivian’s gravesite as quickly as I could. I ran up the hill, before my legs felt like they both broke as I collapsed in front of her headstone, which had started to grow foliage on it. My tears spotted the base of the monument, as I wept to her and spoke of my sorrows.

 

“Vivian… Please, come back to me. I want to see you again… I’m so scared I can’t go a day without thinking about how much better it would be if I killed myself just to see you, but I don’t want to die yet. Help me; help me find a cure for this. It’s all I ask for, please.”

 

I waited for a response, listening for anything. The trees rustling, the night birds cooing any noise at all would be enough.

 

Yet, I heard nothing. I heard silence. Looking up, through my clouded veil of tears, I read her epitaph again.

 

THE EVIL TRUTH IS ALWAYS BEHIND YOU

TO STAB YOU IN THE BACK

 

“...Is this what you meant, Vivian? That the truth finally got to me? That I have to suffer on this planet until death takes me away with one fell swoop?”

 

The agony of silence continued to occupy the surrounding area. I waited a few more moments, before dropping my head again.

“Will you be there for me?” I whispered, as though I didn’t want anyone else to hear.

 

A wind blew, rustling the tree. I continued to keep my eyes on the ground, swallowing thickly. A few short moments later, a lone cherry blossom fell onto the base of her headstone, right between where my hands had been. I smiled. “Thank you,” I murmured, my tears of sadness mixing with new tears of comfort.

 

I slept next to her headstone that night.

 

IV.

 

It was December 25th when I saw something that warmed my heart at Vivian’s grave. I trudged through the snow, my boots crunching as I made my way up the hill. When I reached the top, I stopped in my tracks and stared at her stone, before smiling and slowly heading over to it.

 

Her stone had been decorated with flowers. Some of them were real, but many were spurious in design. Wrapped around the stone with thin, brown vines were magenta clematis flowers. Below, there were a few baskets and pots of flowers. Though there weren't as many, I recognized many of the flowers from her funeral immediately. The camellias were numerous, with an entire basket being filled with them. There was a vase of white roses nearby, though they had started to droop. Small petunias and poppies laid among some zinnias and carnations. The comfort of the flowers made the reminder of her death seem less macabre.

 

I reached out and touched one of the clematis flowers, its cold, fragile petals shivering under my warm fingers. I looked down at her grave, noticing the knit blanket that was wrapped around the base of her headstone. Moving my gaze, I saw a piece of thick paper sticking out between the stone and the blanket. I bent down, pulling it out slowly and reading it.

 

Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, and Have A Wonderful New Year, Viviana!

 

-- Takao and Levitica Zenruth

 

My small smile turned into a grin of warmth. I had been aware of the fact that Takao and Levitica, two high ranking commissioned soldiers, had gotten married shortly after the war ended. However, I wasn’t aware of the fact that they visited Vivian’s grave and left her flowers. The idea of people still visiting her and keeping her company made me so happy, to the point where I could feel my eyes clouding up with tears.

 

Then, I started to cry. Smiling and choking out a strangled chuckle, I crossed my arms and stood up straight, my gaze slowly moving back and forth between the different foliage sitting around her headstone. After a few minutes of staring silently, I spoke to the beloved child who was resting before me.

 

“I’m really glad that other people take care of you when I’m not around,” I murmured, sniffling a bit.

 

I listened to her response-- the wind blowing softly. She was attending.

 

“It makes me feel like others haven’t forgotten you, since you left us about three and a half years ago. I haven’t seen much of anyone else visiting; not even General M’envoler… or your own parents,” my voice got a bit quieter when I said the last part, as if I didn’t want to be mistaken and anger her.

 

The wind instantly blew louder, my scarf flying up out of my coat. I frowned a bit, worried that I made her mad. I stepped back from her headstone, seeing if anything would happen.

 

However, the breeze died down after a few short moments, eventually blowing gently and calmly. She was agreeing with me; she was sad.

 

I reached out, pressing my hand against her stone and smiling. “Don’t worry… As long as I’m here, it’ll be okay.”

 

The wind went silent.

 

“Dad’s here for you.”

 

V.

 

It had been nine years since Vivian died. In that time, a lot had happened. I tried to kill myself, I reunited with my third lover, I adopted a boy as my own. Fate had kept me busy for the last three of those nine years.

 

Trudging up that familiar hill, I swallowed thickly as the summer cicadas cried, making their presence known. Perhaps they were telling Vivian that I had finally returned.

 

I got to the top of the hill, seeing her headstone. The clematis vines that Takao and Levitica planted all those years ago had overtaken it, covering it in spectacular beauty. I slowly moved towards her, stopping in front of her.

 

“I’m sorry it took so long,” I mumbled, rubbing my hands shamefully. “Are you angry?”

 

The wind -- the one that I knew all too well, blew quietly. “No,” she was saying.

 

I smiled. “Thanks,” I stated. I set my eyes on her epitaph, reading it for the first time in many years. Instantly, I remembered those strange words.

 

THE EVIL TRUTH IS ALWAYS BEHIND YOU

TO STAB YOU IN THE BACK

 

I bit my lip, thinking for a moment. “I wish you would tell me what that meant… You’ve got no idea how many hours I’ve laid in bed -- just thinking about that phrase.”

 

She said nothing, but the cicadas continued to scream. Almost on cue, one flew over, landing on her grave and resting on it.

 

Frowning, I reached forwards to swat it away. It wriggled away from my hand, running to the backside of her headstone. I followed it, walking around her stone to get it off.

 

I reached out, brushing it away. It flew off, revealing something that I had never seen before.

AND I GAVE MY LIFE TO SAVE YOU FROM IT.

 

 

My eyes shot wide with realization. My knees buckled, giving away as I collapsed to the ground and started to sob. I finally knew why she was on the battlefield that day.

 

 

 She sacrificed her own life to save me from the evil truth’s blade.