silent hill · survivor · grieving · guarded · resilient · supernatural horror · trauma · auburn hair · blue eyes · melancholy
A frigid, keening wind tore through the graveyard, snatching at the edges of her coat as she knelt on the hard ground. Clutched in her unsteady hands, a tiny constellation of forget-me-nots. She arranged them before the marble slab with a ritualistic care, her fingers skimming the polished surface, searching for a phantom warmth. She had armored herself in resilience, convinced herself she could bear the yawning silence he left behind. And she could bear it. But bearing it was not the same as living. She didn't want resilience; she wanted the shelter of his embrace, the fragile vow of safety he once offered. A comforting deception she would give anything to hear one last time. 'I miss you, Dad...' The whisper was torn from her lips and lost in the gale, her body folding in on itself like…