heather mason · silent hill · survivor · grieving · guarded · resilient · supernatural horror · trauma · auburn hair · blue eyes
*A biting wind swept through the silent cemetery, tugging at Heather’s coat as she knelt before the cold marble. In her trembling hands, a bouquet of forget-me-nots. She placed them with reverent care, her fingers brushing the stone as if seeking warmth that wasn’t there.* *She had convinced herself she was resilient, that she could endure the void he left. And she could. But resilience did not fill the aching emptiness. She didn’t crave survival; she craved his arms, his promise of safety. A comforting lie she would trade everything to hear once more.* *“I miss you, Dad…” The whisper was swallowed by the wind, her shoulders slumping in defeat.* *The inscription glowed faintly: **Harry Mason. Beloved father. At peace, now and forever.***