Conversations With Shadows
Written by: DakotahStacy3

¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸ 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

(because music is life)

ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ🎧🫀🎶ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1979- Smashing pumpkins 🎃🚶😓
Little deschutes- Laura Veirs 🥀
The Funeral- Band of Horses 🪦
Oh Ana- Mother Mother 🐓🕊️
Telepath- Crystal Castles 🔮💎🏰
The Perfect Girl- Mareux 🚶‍♀️💃
Lovers From The Past- Mareux 💑💞
Devil Town- Mother Mother (version) 😈🏘️
Dead to me- Melanie Martinez 💀🪦
I'm With You-Avril Lavigne 🏃‍➡️🫂🏃
Genesis- Grimes ☠️🧚
Navy Light- Labyrinth Ear 🌙🐈‍⬛
Protection Charm- Miguel Angeles 🪽🗡️

{13 𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖘}

Bonus: (because there's so many great songs)

Cigarettes out the Window- TV Girl 🩷💙
The Cigarette Duet- Princess Chelsea 🚬
Kletka- Molchat Doma 🏚️
After Dark- Mr. Kitty 🌃
Oblivion- Grimes.
You'll miss me when I'm not around- Grimes 🕰️👤
Vanished- Crystal Castles 👤🏰
Zombie- The Cranberries
Which Witch- Florence & The Machine 🧙🏻‍♀️☯️
One- Logic (feat. Frank Sinatra)

[Also had these three, but don't know if they fit as well as the others do. But figured I'd still leave em here.]
&- Tally Hall 🎸☯️
This isn't the end- Owlcity 🦉🌌 (very sad, but not sure if it fits the exact vibe)
Yellow lines- Ryan Caraveo 🛣️🚧 (also a bit different from the top ones, but I think it works)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

~𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓼~

   Life in Luton was as small and boring as the town itself. Being founded in the 1800's or something. Luton was another small, boring, and very old town in Arkansas. I'm not quite sure why anyone would purposely choose to stay here.
But my parents decided to.

   Now I'm stuck here. Have been for 10 years or so.
My name is Hazel Wynter. Yeah- like Winter but spelt funny. Parents, right?
And I'm know as an outcast. As in, that one 'weird' girl in the back of the class, that wears mostly black.

No one ever seemed to notice me. But now- I prefer it that way. I write in this journal, with headphones blasting whatever music I'm enjoying at the time.
That's the way I enjoy life, by ignoring it.

With a click of a pen, I had finished my writing for the day. Closing my leather-bound journal with a snap. Gathering my things then walking home.
Passing people in the town, friends gathered at a store, a couple on a date, some old people feeding birds in the park, that kinda stuff.

Everyone was amped up for Halloween. Decorating every house and store, with ghouls, goblins, lights, skeletons, and of course fake blood. It was everywhere you looked.
Kids running around to find a costume, while their parents freaked out over all the soon to be eaten candy. Ready to tell their kids about hidden razor blades- so they could steal the candy for themselves.

For years I had walked through this town, moving like a shadow through the air. It became a regular occurrence for people to bump into me, completely unaware of my presence.

Yet I had always noticed every little detail. How every person I passed looked, what type of cars drove by, the kids who threw tantrums and even down to the leaves that fell.

But now I had become tired of it, numb to feelings. As if I was no longer living on the same plane as everyone else. It was just me, my journal and headphones.

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

The town rarely ever noticed Hazel Wynter, but eventually gave her a name. She had became known as "the weird emo girl." She was rarely noticed, but when she was, it was always in a bad way.
While her family was seen as smart, clean, sharp and hardworking, she was just seen as 'the moody teenager.' An outcast to everyone.

No one in the entire town never got close to her. Few people even knew her voice. Teachers would forget she was in class; students didn't talk to her but liked to talk behind her back.

In their 'hushed' voices, Hazel could still clearly make out what they said. So eventually- she blocked it out. Well except that time she punched Carter in the face for touching her journal. No one was ever allowed to know what was in it.

It was like a ritual for her, writing in that leather-bound book. Every single day. Sometimes it was just a quick paragraph, while other times she could fill out pages with emotions.
Using the black ink to flow out like the flood of emotions washing over her. So powerful that only writing seemed to ease it off.

That's how she spent most of her time. Back in summer, Hazel had grown bored of the heat and bugs, bored out of her mind as she sweated half to death. Longing for autumn, which finally came around. And Hazel loves autumn or as she preferred- fall.

It was finally sweater weather. Aka the only clothes Hazel owns. She would grab some warm clothes, her old worn-out leather bag, gently tossing her headphones and journal inside. Then rush out of the door while her parents were distracted.

And after a particular mentally draining week, Hazel was ready to escape. Which usually meant sneaking out of the house to hang out in the park, unfortunately today was the day everyone else had decided to hang out at the park.
Celebrating fall with their friends and families. Hazel sighed deeply, fixing her headphones then continued walking. Music blasting as she zoned out.

Her feet quickly got her away from everybody in town, their voices and hollers of excitement became silent. That's when Hazel finally looked up, realizing how far she had gone. She was farther from the town than she had ever been before, at least it seemed. The street was empty, the sidewalk cracked as plants broke through and twisted tree branches that barely hovered over old fences.

How had she walked so often and never found this place? Odd. Looking up at the crooked street sign, the dirty, faded white letters read- 𝑮𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅
Strange. How had she never seen this street or heard of it before?

She glanced around, deciding to continue walking down the unfamiliar street. Maybe there's something worth while here? She thought.
Pausing her music, then rested the headphones around her neck as she continued slowly walking. Hazel was just gazing around the new surroundings, then heard a sudden, loud rustle. Slightly startling her.

A large raven emerging from a dark tree, making a loud rustle and cawing. Its black wings and eyes blended right into its body. Looking like a blur of night flashing by.
Alright then... no need to be jumpy. Hazel thought to herself.

Looking to her right, there was a thick, dark tree. The same one that the raven had just left. Moving closer she glanced through the low hanging branches, seeing a metal gate. Hazel's curiosity pulled her towards it. The gate wrapped in vines after years of sitting there, untouched.

Hazel glanced through the metal bars and the thorny vines wrapped around them. Catching a glimpse of a gravestone.
A cemetery? She thought to herself. Inspecting the gate, she noticed the intricate detail and rusted metal. Huh, must be an old one.
Why had this place been abandoned? Shouldn't there be people taking care of it or guarding it?

Hazel was confused but also curious. She took a few steps back, inspecting the place. Metal fences with spikes lined the cemetery, twisted trees looming over in a dark canopy.
Why is there no one here? She wondered. Maybe everyone is just too busy to care about this 𝒐𝒍𝒅 place now?

As she stood there, her curiosity only peaked. Walking up to the gate again, she saw a frail chain holding the gate together.

Hmm... maybe.

Gripping one side of the gate, she began to tug at it. Attempting to loosen the old ratty chain. But it didn't want to give in.
Thinking for a second, she decided to give it a shove. Throwing her body at it.
Why am I even doing this!? She thought, yet still continued on.

The metal gate bruised her arm, but there was something drawing her in. With a big heave, she threw her body into once more. The chain finally breaking loose.
Hazel took a breath of relief. Huh, I did it.

Even with the gate loosened, it was still a small gap. She took off her bag, placing it on the other side then squeezing through the gap. The rust cold metal brushed her face. Then she was on the other side.

Why did I even want to be in here so bad? She thought to herself. The place was very obviously abandoned and perhaps illegal to be here. But Hazel just wanted a quick peek. That's all.

Grabbing her bag, she walking forward into the cemetery. An eerie fog covered the ground, but she enjoyed the way it flowed around her boots.
After all, fall was her favorite season.
And she secretly liked sitting in town just to watch people fall on the icy roads.

She continued walking, farther and farther into this ever going cemetery. Did this place even have a name? Maybe she over looked a sign?

Most people would probably think it was strange to walk around in a "creepy" cemetery or perhaps rude to the old folks buried six feet under. But Hazel felt strangely at home.

Being in the town didn't just make Hazel feel as an outcast, but made her like a shadow. Sometimes it felt like people saw right through her.
While some purposeful ignored her, terrified to even cross paths.

Hazel abruptly stopped as something caught her eye.
Hidden in the back of the large cemetery was an oak tree. An old worn-out gravestone that was now dirty and disfigured sat below it.
The date had become unrecognizable after years of beaten weather. No telling exactly how long it had sat there. Just obviously really old.

While the large and probable old, oak tree stood tall. Covered in knots and bumps, lumps and cuts. Some bark falling off, crooked branches dangling down and fallen leaves covering the cold ground.
The chilling wind swept right through her clothes, while earth toned leaves crunched under her feet. Admiring the tree, Hazel continued walking towards it.

๋࣭ ⭑🕸🦇🕸๋࣭ ⭑

Now, some might wonder why she was even here.
A strange girl alone in an old creepy cemetery?
Not something you'd normally see, but this was a different kind of girl. But not as in the "I'm different from other girls" pick me type.
Hazel Wynter has an actual 'odd' one, as they said. The town had labeled her as strange, creepy and depressing. No wonder she's hanging around in cemeteries...

Hazel brushed the puffy jacket under herself then sat down, leaning against the cold and brittle tree. Her eyes glanced around quiet place, only catching sight of a few falling leaves. This was the only time she seemed to feel at home. To feel safe.
When she was alone.

Grabbing the brown leather bag from around herself. The same one old bag that had been tattered up and thrown out into the trash. But she had taken a liking to it, being it home one day.
Reaching into the bag, pulling out the journal she also carried around. And she was always very adamant wasn't a diary. It's a journal.

Taking the string from around it and picking up a black pen, she began to write. Letting her emotions flow out as ink from a squid. The words only known to her mind but spilling from her soul. No one was ever allowed to see this book, or know her thoughts. It was safer that way. Or maybe that's just what comforted her.

Time slowly passed as the pages filled, leaves gathered at her boots, and squirrels scurried across the ground, searching for their hidden acorns. The same ones that fell from this very oak tree.

Hazel had been completely enthralled by her writing, then suddenly paused. Holding the pen off of the paper. Unable to write as her mind seemed to be abruptly occupied by something else, completely unable to focus.

In that moment she felt a violent chill rush over her. That was just the wind... she thought to herself, shrugging it off. But as the feeling grew stronger, she took a quick breath. Gasping for air as her heart raced. There was something off here.

She felt a cold chill by her neck, hair standing on end, as if there was a presence nearby. Her eyes darted around the cemetery, which had become completely silent. Dead silent.
No leaves fell, no squirrels ran across the ground and the sudden cold chilled her so deeply that it couldn't possibly be from the weather.

The wind didn't just chill her to the skin, but to the bone. Reaching deep inside her mind. Like something had taken ahold of her.

Hazel's heart raced faster than ever, unable to catch her breath, in a panic she screamed out. Jumping from her sat position, waving her arms in the arm like a fool as she took steps away. Then- it was suddenly gone.
All of those strange, overwhelming feelings subsided. Confused, she slowly lifted her hair away from her eyes. Looking back at the spot she had been sitting.

The grass and leaves had been flattened, leaving a clear spot of where she had just been. But there was nothing there. Just the tree.

What was that strange feeling? She thought to herself, glancing around again as she fixed her hair and clothes. Walking back towards the tree she reached down at her bag, then a sudden rush of cold air hit her yet again. Making her jump back.

Hazel had never been scared of anything. At least that she could remember. Not since she was a child. As a teenager it changed, people were scared of 𝒉𝒆𝒓 instead.

With the uncanny feelings of this place, Hazel didn't bother staying around any longer. She snatched up her bag and swiftly made her way across the cemetery. Trying to understand what had just happened.

Reaching the gate, she threw her bag to the other side and squeezed through again. Going home after being in that cemetery for- how long?

Days passed; Hazel was still extremely confused as she tried to understand that day. Strange things had happened to her before in life, but not like- that. Yet she couldn't get rid of those thoughts, even in her dreams. Or perhaps nightmares?

That cold had chilled her down to the bone, like something- otherworldly. There had been a strange feeling of a presence. But she had seen no one, even the animals had seemed to disappear. Almost as if time stood still for a moment. Like the leaves had stayed in midair.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

   I can't get my mind off of that stupid day! Wandering off from town then found a random street- with that old cemetery.
Why did I even go there!? How 𝙙𝙞𝙙 I even get there!?
And why can't I find it again!? Ughhh.

   I had tried to find that place again. With no luck. No matter how many streets I walked down or just staring at my feet, hoping to accidentally find it.
There was nothing. It was beginning to drive me crazy. Like it was just a dream. But I 𝙬𝙖𝙨 there. I know I was!

   Seeing that faded street sign that read- 𝑮𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅. Those twisted trees that hung over the metal fence. Oh and that huge raven! I remember it all. But no matter how many times I looked at maps, there was no record of a "𝑮𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅".

   Do you know how that makes someone feel!? Ugh, people think I'm crazy enough. They can't know about 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨. And even when I look in the mirror, I can't escape those memories. As the scrape from that rusted gate was still on my forehead.

   That place was weird and I'm going to find it. Right now. I'm not waiting any longer. I need to find that place so I can figure it out and forget about it.

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Hazel slammed the leather-bound journel close, gathering then tossing her stuff into her bag. Dashing out of the house, speed walking away from the town. Until she found silence.

After multiple days of looking for the road and cemetery- going crazy over it. Hazel finally felt a familiar feeling. Walking down a street, far outside of town. She stopped hearing the noises of the town, as silence developed the area.
That silence...
It's here.

Hazel looked up, she was right. There stood the old metal fence, covered in vines and the same crooked trees looming over the area. This was the place alright.

The gate was slightly ajar, proving that Hazel had been here before. She squeezed through the gap again, just as before. Walking through the cemetery, right to that oak tree.

✧˚˖𓍢ִ໋🎧🤎☕˚˖𓍢ִ໋✧

As she sat there, her mind began to wander off. Some random things entered Hazel's mind. Including 4 numbers. Her mind repeated it over and over, harassing her brain, as a burning feeling came over her body. Beckoning her to write the numbers down.

Hazel's hand gripped the pen, feeling as it was not of her own control. Hurriedly writing those numbers down, making the burning sensation go away.

Then- she saw the numbers.

𝟏𝟗𝟎𝟑.

What? 1903? Why would I be thinking of-
A wave of cold air rushed right through Hazel, as her eyes caught sight of something. Sending dread through her body.
That gravestone, the one under the tree.

The date carved in the crumbling rock, said 19...
Hazel slowly put her journal and pen down, creeping towards the gravestone. She hesitated, moving her hand up to it.
Brushing away years of dirt and grime, she was stunned by the sight.

𝟏𝟗𝟎𝟑.

Wha- Hazel felt frozen in- not exactly fear but, something stranger. Why did that number come to mind!? How did she know the date!? Maybe- maybe she just saw it earlier and forgot...?
Hazel broke out of her frozen state, falling back towards her journal.

A gust of chilling air passed by, ruffling the pages of the journal then landing on a page. Hazel reluctantly picked up her journal up.
The page was bent in the corner, just another entry she had written. But this didn't look like-

Her eyes glanced at the broken writing, certain words stuck out to her.
քʟǟƈɛ- ȶɦɛ ƈɦɨʟʟɨռɢ աɨռɖ- ǟ ɖʀɛǟʍ?- ʀǟʋɛռ- ƈʀǟʐʏ- ȶʀɛɛ- ʀօǟɖ- ɢʀǟʋɛ-

What the hell!? She thought to herself. What is happening to me?  It made her uneasy, feeling like she was falling into insanity.
How had she been so peaceful writing then all of a sudden- on edge?

Her eyes darted around, leaves covered the ground in their earthy tones, gravestones crumbling apart after years of abandonment, and there was a gentle fog in the area. It felt like her mind, foggy.

So strange... Hazel threw her journal into her bag, getting to her feet as she rushed towards the exit.
The exit?- it had been an entrance before. Now it was her only exit.
Hazel's uneasiness rapidly became terror. The gate was gone.

Stopped in her tracks, heart pounding in her chest, and lungs burning, desperate for air.
ŇØ- It was right there!!
A gate can't just- disappear! Hazel's eyes darted around, seeing only fog, gravestones and trees.
Completely disoriented, she just ran in a direction.

Weaving through gravestones and trees, the loud crunch of leaves under her boots. Her breaths quick and shallow, freezing her throat yet burning her lungs.

Hazel wasn't much of a runner. And nothing 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 scared her. She just- didn't wanna be in this cemetery anymore!
But the more she tried to deny her fear, the worse it became. Almost as if the earth could sense it. Taunting her.

The fog grew thicker, gravestones blocking her path and all the trees looked the same. She focused on tree, running towards it. Maybe she could use it as a landmark? Just someplace she could finally catch her breath.

Hazel groaned as she reached the tree, resting her head and arms against the rough bark. Getting those deep breaths her body longed for.
Why had she ran so much? That was so stupid! Not worth feeling this way!

Her breathing calmed down and her eyes opened. Turning around to look at the cemetery while still resting against the tree.
"I'm never doing that again." She grumbled to herself. I hate running...

The cemetery was just as before. Trees, leaves, graves. Yep- just another cemetery. After she caught her breath, Hazel fixed her bag around her shoulder, then stepped around the tree.

But not before bumping into- something...
"Oh sh-!" Hazel exclaimed, jumping back. Why was she so on edge today?

"I'm sorry miss. I didn't mean to frighten you." A man said gently, standing in front of her.

Wha- why is there someone else here? Hazel thought to herself, furrowing her brows. Am I in trouble for being here!? She worried.

"You seemed to have dropped your pen, miss." The man said softly, holding a black pen.
It was obviously hers since it had a gothic design, with cuts and dents all over, from being used constantly. Hazel always carried that specific pen and leather-bound journal with her, everyday.

"Oh. Right." Hazel said quietly, hesitantly taking the pen from the strange man.
"Um- who are you?" She asked. Was he a grounds keeper? Or just a creeper?

But as she looked at him, she noticed the nice suit he had on. An old fashioned, dark grey suit with the chain of a pocket watch hanging out.
Definitely not a grounds keeper. Right?

"I'm sorry for frightening you, ma'am." He apologized.
"And it's probably time you should get home." He said in a slightly firm tone, staring at her.

"Yeah." Hazel adjusted her bag. "Time to go." She said suspiciously as she stared back at the man, putting distance between them.

"The gate is that way." The man slowly moved, pointing at the gate, that was in fact- still there.

Maybe Hazel 𝙬𝙖𝙨 losing her mind. Freaking out for no reason and running around. The man probably wanted to laugh at her. Or maybe he's just another creep.
Either way- she was tired of being in this cemetery.

🦇 🥀 🕯 🪦 🩸

It's been a few days since I left that cemetery. The memories of it still invaded my mind. What had happened that last time was even stranger than the first!

   Yet, no matter how much I tried to get that place off of my mind, I couldn't. There was just something special about it. But I just couldn't quite figure it out. 𝒀𝒆𝒕.

   I'm going to understand this uncanny place.
𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚, I'm going to know all of its secrets. I need to do this. For my own sake. I won't let it make me crazy. I'm determined to figure it out. There's no stopping me now.

𓂃🖊📓

With the click of a pen, she slammed the journal shut, running out of the door. That was beginning to be how she spent most of her days now. Filling out pages of the journal with black ink. Yet the pen never ran out of ink. Even now, it flows out as a medium for emotions.

Yet again, Hazel walked far out of town, until the silence fell over her. Squeezed through the small opening of the gate, headed right to the oak tree.

She put her bag down, glancing around.
"Hey! Where are you!?" She shouted out into the empty abyss.
There was no answer. So she sat at the tree, waiting for whatever was to come.

Hazel sat in silence, no movement or noises for what felt like hours. Even as she glanced at her journal, nothing came to mind to write. She was beginning to feel tired after being here.
Maybe it was a stupid idea come here and I should just go home. Hazel thought to herself, eyes closed as she rested against the tree.

Until a break in the silence changed her thoughts.

"Hello." A voice said quietly.

Hazel jumped a bit, her eyes shot open to see the same man. Still dressed in a suit. Why is he even in a suit? And why isn't it dirty from being outside?

"I'm sorry. I frightened you again." He lowered his head.

"No, no, it's okay. I just- wasn't expecting you." Hazel said slowly, standing up.

"Why are you here?" The man asked curiously, tilting his head.

"Well uh- I wanted to know more about this place. Could you tell me anything?" She asked shyly.

"Oh. You- you want to hear my stories?" The man asked with a new found sparkle in his eye.

"Um- yeah. What can you tell me?" She asked.

"I can tell all sorts of things! I have many stories." The man spoke with excitement.

"Alright. Thank you." Hazel said awkwardly. She wasn't used to speaking, let alone to others.

"Forgive me. I- I got a bit excited. It's just because...
I have no one to talk to anymore." The man said sadly.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm the same way." She shrugged.

"Really?" He asked curiously. Perhaps feeling pity.
"Well- what would you like to know?" The man changed the subject.

"Everything!... please. I want to know the history of this place." Hazel grabbed her journal and pen.

୧ ‧₊˚ ✒️📓୧ ‧₊˚

Today is October 31st, aka Halloween. The time where people dress up, run around town, get scared and eat candy. It's the best time of the year.

   People in the town of Luton take Halloween 'seriously'. Decorations on every single house and store, candy and costumes sold out everywhere, and people already in the streets before dark.

   But I know the real meaning on Halloween. It's the one night in the entire 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓, where the line between life and death blur. Merging into one. And this time, instead of staying home or being dragged into town. I'm celebrating, with my friend.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮⋆

Yet again, Hazel closed her journal and grabbed her bag. But this time, wearing a Halloween costume and going into the kitchen, Hazel packed her bag with handfuls of candy. Borrowing some that her parents got to hand out to the kids.

Hazel passed through town, busy with everyone out celebrating. While she admired the decorations, she still preferred the cemetery. Being in a quiet and comforting place.
Squeezing through the same old rusty gate, with the large oak tree standing proud over every other tree.

There he was, waiting right under the oak tree for me. As usual.

"You came back." He said, almost as a question.

"Well I couldn't leave you alone on Halloween!" Hazel said, dropping her bag.

He gently smiled, feeling the warmth of love.
"Really... y-you came back? On Halloween? For me!?" He was astonished.

"Yeah, of course I did. Who else would I hang out with? I've got you!" Hazel smiled.

"Yeah. You do." The man smiled brightly.

˚₊‧꒰ა🍂🍁🧡 ໒꒱ ‧₊

People in town began to whispered around about Hazel. Saying how she had changed, not necessary for the better.
The people of Luton, Arkansas were used to staying away from Hazel Wynter. She was just too 'strange' to be one of 'them.' Even for her own family...

Some of the teenagers hanging around in town, got curious and followed her one day. Wanting to know why 'The Hazel Wynter' was so feared.
They watched as she walked far out of town, into the middle of nowhere. Then snuck into a creepy old cemetery!

The group laughed about how strange is was, but as they stayed, continuing to watch. It grew stranger. Hazel would go to that place everyday, just to sit and talk to herself. But it wasn't just talking or singing aloud like most people would.
It looked as if she was actually speaking to someone. Yet no one was 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 around.

Some of the teens laughed about it, then grew bored, leaving the place. While some of the other teens were spooked by it. Seeing Hazel talk and even 'hug' the air.
It was 𝙚𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚. Freaking them out. They ran away, just as everyone else did.

⭒₊ ⊹🌕₊ ⊹⭒

No one in town had understood her and probably never would. But what they didn't know, was how happy Hazel was now.
For she had *finally* found a 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮.

For after all the years Hazel Wynter had lived in the town of Luton.
It was only 𝒏𝒐𝒘, that she truly 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓼.

In that moment, the familiar large raven swooped down from the old oak tree above her. The raven had sturdy, pitch black wings, capable of flying anywhere. It could have easily found a new place to call home. Yet the raven stayed here.

It seems that the raven liked staying here, just as Hazel did. Swooping down, it landed on one of the many, old, crumbling gravestones.
Barely recognizable after all these years.
But faint writing was marked for a
𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓷𝔃𝓸 𝓢𝓽. 𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷
𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝕱𝖊𝖇 5, 1876
𝕯𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖛 1, 1903

Huh, I wonder what he was like...

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

        𓅨
.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚.