My heart ached as I approached the entrance that evening. The wide metal gates towered ominously above, making me succumb to feeling insignificant. I was a lone visitor to this place. I visited often, but today was different. It was her birthday.
I gripped the bouquet of pink roses which were her favourite and I strategically placed one foot in front each other until I got to my destination. I stood transfixed for a while, my gaze held by the sunset, closing the day.
I remembered evenings when we used to sit atop the roof of our apartment building and watch days diminish together. That was the home of most of our laughs but there were also the times she would comfort me, when I felt all alone in the world. Both my parents gave me up when I was a baby. She was always there, supporting me through all my trials as a child. We planned to get a real house in the city when I finished school. She had promised that we would start a new life and everything would be different. Memories of her engulfed me.
Birds flew across the sky, breaking through my reverie. I finally looked down, Aunt Cara’s grave stood ominously in my wake. I absentmindedly tucked away some loose hair behind my ear. I stooped, placing the bouquet on the hard stone.
A single tear escaped the safe haven of my eyes.
“Happy Birthday Aunt Cara. I love you,” I whispered into nothingness.