The Waterfall

The waterfall was enormous.

The water, sparkling blue and fresh and clean, cascaded over the rocks and pounded into the watering hole below, creating a cool mist to combat the warm spring air. Surrounded by trees in every direction, it was the perfect place to hide; the oaks towered far above it, the branches swaying with the breeze, tangling with each other in a never ending dance. Below the canopy, the grass was tall and soft. Coneflowers sprouted from the ground at the water’s edge; their petals were a soft lavender, and their smell was warm and sweet.

It was Axel’s favorite place. Not because of how pretty it was, or how relaxing, but because of the memories. It made him sad, in a way, but he cherished those memories; they meant everything to him. Memories were all he had anymore.

The bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, trimmed so nicely and carefully, made him sad as well. They reminded Axel that he had not come here to relax. He had not come to watch the water pour over the rocks and into the swimming hole that he had grown so used to. He was not there to listen to the wind in the trees, or to stare up at the stars and make wishes. Those days were long gone.

In between the trees, overcrowded with bramble bushes and grass and vines, was a path. Once, it had been so neatly paved with cobblestone, and along both sides, they had planted dozens of tickseed flowers. Now, the rocky path was overgrown and nearly impassable. The stones had been dislodged and cast about by rowdy teenagers; the tickseed had grown out of control and spread along the forest floor; the bushes that had been neatly trimmed and cared for now pushed against each other, fighting for room. It had been so many years since the path had been nice. Axel didn’t have the time to do it himself, but he wished someone had taken care of it.

He ducked through the bushes, the prickly branches of the thicket scratching at his cheeks and catching on his turtleneck sweater, and pushed his way down the path as he always did. By the time he’d reached the end, his cheeks were slashed with shallow cuts. Blood did not well out of them; he had none to spare.

In front of the vampire was another clearing, this one tucked away behind the safety of the waterfall and the rocks. Behind him, the water pounded on. Here, though, there was silence; there were no birds, or even crickets. Axel stepped very carefully forward, bent, and so, so gently laid the sunflower bouquet across the grave with a solemn expression.

It had not been tended to in some time. The lettering that had been carved into the stone jutting from the ground had faded, and now it was illegible; that was okay. Axel knew what it said anyways. Beside it was an equally faded grave, and then four more-- a private graveyard, long forgotten about by everyone but Axel himself. He had been there when it was built, after all; he had fallen in love with the first one to lay to rest here.

Axel sat, leaning against the first grave and slowly, carefully peeling his gloves off. He set them on the ground beside him and stared up at the sky; the moonlight cast over him, and the stars seemed to blink at him curiously, like those of a cat’s. Axel remembered looking up at those same stars almost two centuries ago now-- Only then, he wasn’t alone. He remembered the warmth of his lover pressed up against him, remembered his heartbeat as he chatted eagerly on about constellations and the universe. Axel’s eyes drifted back towards the illegible scrawl on the grave, and his expression softened some.

His lover had not cared about what Axel was. He had not cared that he would grow old and die, and the vampire would continue to stay as he was-- young and undead. Axel had always adored that about him. He had liked to live in the moment, to let whatever happened happen. He’d died that way, with a wife and four children. How cowardly Axel had been.

Unable to sit there any longer, The vampire pushed himself back up, hastily pulling his gloves back on. He didn’t want to stay; he didn’t want to think about this anymore. He turned, beginning to shove his way back down the overgrown path without looking at the grave again.

The sunflowers, bright and happy against the dull rocks and the grass, remained where Axel left them, and the waterfall roared on.