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Description
“Y’know the problem with you, James?”

Korey didn’t wait for a response, crouching down before her conversational partner with a huff and a frown as she continued. “I never know whether you’d be proud of me or ashamed.” The words were said flippantly, but the hurt and uncertainty behind them were audibly real. “I mean,” she sighed, “I’m doing what you were doing, and damn, I’d say I’m doing it pretty well. But…” Korey looked hesitant. “Did you even want to be this? How could you have wanted to be this? It’s so damn hard, James.” Her hand, which rested in her jacket pocket, clenched around her switchblade. “They all ask me to tell them what they need to do, but I don’t know any more than they do.” She rested her head on her knees, blocking out her surroundings. “You made it look so easy. Giving instructions. Making decisions. But it’s just…it’s terrifying.”

After a moment, the girl shifted positions until she was sitting cross-legged before the stony face of her companion. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered haltingly. “So much.” She was so hurt, so broken on the inside. She was like a wall built around a crumbling city—the shields on the outside hid the truth from the world, but that didn’t stop her from inwardly dying more and more every day. “I need you to come back so badly.” She rubbed at her face, swearing under her breath as she felt the familiar moisture of tears on her fingertips. “With your stupid face and your terrible jokes and your awful music.” Korey choked out a laugh. “All that. I need that.” Rubbing off the freely-running tears with her sleeve, the brunette moved closer to trace the words imprinted on the slab of marble before her. She’d never be able to read them. Odds were, she never would. But she knew what they said anyway. She had made one of her companions read it to her one day, and had committed the words to memory for the sake and honor of her sibling.

Finally, she stood, shoving her hands rather violently into her pockets. “See you next week,” she muttered, turning on her heel to leave the cemetery as quickly as she could.
The grave behind her read,

“James H. Lee
Beloved son, brother, and friend.
1990-2013.”

Description
“Y’know the problem with you, James?”

Korey didn’t wait for a response, crouching down before her conversational partner with a huff and a frown as she continued. “I never know whether you’d be proud of me or ashamed.” The words were said flippantly, but the hurt and uncertainty behind them were audibly real. “I mean,” she sighed, “I’m doing what you were doing, and damn, I’d say I’m doing it pretty well. But…” Korey looked hesitant. “Did you even want to be this? How could you have wanted to be this? It’s so damn hard, James.” Her hand, which rested in her jacket pocket, clenched around her switchblade. “They all ask me to tell them what they need to do, but I don’t know any more than they do.” She rested her head on her knees, blocking out her surroundings. “You made it look so easy. Giving instructions. Making decisions. But it’s just…it’s terrifying.”

After a moment, the girl shifted positions until she was sitting cross-legged before the stony face of her companion. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered haltingly. “So much.” She was so hurt, so broken on the inside. She was like a wall built around a crumbling city—the shields on the outside hid the truth from the world, but that didn’t stop her from inwardly dying more and more every day. “I need you to come back so badly.” She rubbed at her face, swearing under her breath as she felt the familiar moisture of tears on her fingertips. “With your stupid face and your terrible jokes and your awful music.” Korey choked out a laugh. “All that. I need that.” Rubbing off the freely-running tears with her sleeve, the brunette moved closer to trace the words imprinted on the slab of marble before her. She’d never be able to read them. Odds were, she never would. But she knew what they said anyway. She had made one of her companions read it to her one day, and had committed the words to memory for the sake and honor of her sibling.

Finally, she stood, shoving her hands rather violently into her pockets. “See you next week,” she muttered, turning on her heel to leave the cemetery as quickly as she could.
The grave behind her read,

“James H. Lee
Beloved son, brother, and friend.
1990-2013.”