Serina
Birdsongfilledthewoodsjust as it had on so many mornings like this one. I stood at the edge of the pond and watched the sky lighten from indigo to blush. It was the same time Dad and I would set out, our boots crunching through the underbrush, rods in hand, ready for my birthday weekend tradition.
I approached the old oak that had fallen over, its bark rough against my palm as I traced the initials S & J. Carved with a pocketknife on my sixteenth birthday. The memory was still vivid and made a smile curve my lips.
With a shaky exhale, I unscrewed the cap of the bourbon bottle, the amber liquid glinting in the growing light. Taking my seat on the weathered log we'd claimed as ours, I tilted the bottle back. The bourbon scorched my throat, grounding me in the here and now.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Dad,” I rasped, my voice a hoarse whisper against the quiet. A lone tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek. “I wanted to come on my birthday but… I was a little preoccupied…”
A laugh that sounded more like a choked sob slipped past my lips.
“I did it. I got the bad guy. I think I lost myself along the way, but I'm back now. I never planned on becoming a Vampire, but if there was anyone who understood second chances, it was you.”
My chest heaved, and the dam broke, sobs racking my body then.
“I think I'll be okay. I have Bastian, Thorne, and Nox,” I murmured between tears. “I think you would have liked them… Oh, and I sold the bike; I drive your car now. And we got a dog. I named him Bruno. You were right—he loves riding in the front seat,” I blubbered and sniffled, rubbing my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. “Fuck, I miss you, Dad.”
The words spilled out, raw and aching. Hot tears streamed freely, mingling with the taste of liquor on my lips.
I looked down to my phone, the screensaver still of the photo we took together the last time we ate at Mickey’s. “Wherever you are, I know you'll be waiting a while, but save me a seat, okay?”
I took another long pull from the bottle, the sun peeking over the horizon, cloaking me in its warm embrace.
My finger brushed over the ring Brielle had given me just yesterday. I'd waited to have it before coming here because I wanted to be here at sunrise. Be here when we would have been here.
As the sun climbed higher, I sat silently, letting the rays dry my tears, the weight of my grief lessening with each passing moment.
There, on our log, surrounded by the gentle touch of morning light, I finally let go.
The neon sign of Mickey's Diner flickered as we slid into our usual booth, the one that had always been ours, even before the fire. Tonight was reopening night for Mickey’s.
I ran my fingers across the smooth surface of the replaced glass, feeling the absence of all the mementos that used to lie beneath it. A pang of loss hit me hard, and a frown tugged at the corners of my mouth.
Bastian gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “We have a surprise for you, love,” he said, his voice soft.
Curiosity flickered through me as he reached under the table, retrieving a little shoe box worn at the edges. He set it on the table in front of me. I didn’t know why, but I was nervous. With hands that trembled slightly, I lifted the lid. My breath hitched, eyes widening at the sight.
Polaroids, my family photos, me and Sam, the silly napkin drawings, the quirky doodles my dad would sketch while we waited for our meals, the little trinkets from road trips with both my mom and dad.
“Where did you… How did you…?” The words were thick in my throat, tears blurring the edges of my vision.
“When Mickey's caught fire, we knew they were important to you, so we went back in for them,” Bastian replied with a warm smile, his hand on my thigh a comfort.
Thorne reached from across the table and gently rubbed his fingers over my knuckles as I looked through all the things I thought were lost. Nox wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I whispered, the words barely audible over the swell of emotions. But they heard. They always did.
Together, we sat there in that corner of Mickey's Diner, and as I wiped the tears away, ready to face the world again, I knew that no matter what, these guys, this makeshift new family of mine, would always help me find the light in the darkness.
The bell above the door jingled. Sam waltzed in, her energy instantly filling the room like sunlight piercing through storm clouds.
“What did you assholes do to her?” she quipped upon seeing me, sliding into the booth with the grace of a cat. Her arms enveloped me, her hug squeezing the lingering sorrow right out of my bones.
“Nothing,” Nox replied, his voice laced with amusement as he rolled his eyes dramatically.
Sam's gaze drifted to the box resting before us, her eyes softening as they landed on the contents I'd thought were lost forever.
“Oh, Serina,” she breathed. I caught the shimmer of unshed tears as she reached into the box, helping me arrange the polaroids and doodled napkins beneath the glass again.
