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Harder to Move On

Song: How Does A Moment Last Forever (Montmartre) (From "Beauty and the Beast")

Character: Hope   Story: Ending Eternity


My only thought as I walk is: I can't do this. I can't do this. Why am I doing this? What keeps me walking is Aaryn, Diana, and Melody standing beside me, acting as my strength and motivation. Cobblestones have made way for tar and cement. Simple shops and grand mansions have made way to modern stores and cookie cutter homes. Nothing is the same and I can't help but to wish it was at the very least more similar. This was my home, but more than that, this was my whole world. My human eyes never saw anything but the London of my memories; a London I shan't ever see again.


But perhaps that is not true. Every time I close my eyes, whether I wish to or not, I can see it. I see my home, my family, the lamp lined streets. I sometimes wish that I could forget. This may sound strange, I know, but it is true. Perhaps this is because, even though I can see the home and the people I love, this isn't always a good thing. When I close my eyes, particularly at night, I see the darkest times of life; times I should have been there with my family, but I couldn't. Days after I turned, I watched from the shadows as my family and friends wept as Denny was placed in the ground. Years passed and then I was again forced to bear the pain of watching my sister cry as my parents were placed to rest. My heart nearly broke both times, and I couldn't breathe through the gaping hole in my chest.


However, the day my life ceased to have any meaning whatsoever was the day my sisters died. We were triplets, born together, and we spent every day of our lives together, until the hated day. I was saved the pain of having to watch either Faith or Chastity mourn the other because they died together. I had rather hoped they would stay together forever, so at least that wish was granted, but I missed out on so much.


After my sisters died, everyone I knew, everyone who knew me, was gone. If I walked down the street, no one would notice or greet me as a friend. I felt so alone, even as I watched my nieces and nephews weep as I did. But they did not know me, and I did not know them. I had never even met the men that my sisters married.


How can a life go so off kilter? One moment, I am looking at a simple, but happy life. I would be married to my best friend, I would raise our children, and watch as my children played with my nieces and nephews. But one decision changed everything. Thousands of emotions pass through me as I remember everything that was, everything that wasn't, and everything that might have been. Being back in this town brings everything back.


I heave heated breaths as I berate Denny for trying to be a hero. Was he trying to impress me by investigating the noise that Marcus made? Was he just too kind hearted to ever walk by someone that may be in trouble? Couldn't he just act reasonably for once in his life. If we had just kept walking, we would have made it home and nothing would have had to change.


But then sadness sinks in, and I remember what not changing would have meant. Denny loved me. Really loved me. And I never knew, and I don't think he would have ever told me. If he had lived, I would have done my duty and married him, just like my parents wanted and expected me, but it would have been nothing more. I don't know that I would ever have grown to love him, not as he loved me. He deserved more from me.


As I think this, I start to wonder what the world may have been like if Marcus had killed me and changed Denny. Would he agonize as I had? Or better yet, would he have moved on in a way I never could. Would he have found new love faster than I had?


Diana slides her hand into mine and grasps tightly, dragging me from my thoughts of solitude. Lost in thought, we had reached our destination. Overhead, a sign labeled this spot as one of the oldest mortuaries in London. I take a deep breath and walk across the threshold onto the grass and weave my way through the dead. As if it were only yesterday, I quickly find the stones marking Faith and Chastity's graves. The stones are more aged now, the names faded and forgotten by almost the whole world. I kneel between my two beloved sisters, their children's children on either side. The past may be easy to remember, but it is harder to move on. But sitting here, for the first time in several lifetimes, I feel at peace. Sitting here with the descendants of my sisters, I know they are still here with me. It may not be much, but it may just be enough. 
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