Alex Weasley (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} notyourfred) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} breaking_point, |
And now his father. Roxanne.
Why?
Alex tried to fade into the background as people clustered together, knowing that today of all days he wouldn't be able to deal with fond thoughts of his dad, of commiserations about his sister who was 'much too young', or even sad looks and hugs.
Pulling a photo in a small frame from inside his bag, he approached the memorial. His mother should be here too. His mother smiled and waved from behind the glass, and Alex touched it with one fingertip before setting it next to his father's.
"I'm sorry, Mum," he whispered. "I didn't really mean what I said, that day." The last time he'd seen her, he'd snapped for her to leave him alone please so he could study, and she'd gone. "I know you know it, but I'd give anything to have you back..." He turned to his father, touching that frame as well. "And you. We were just getting along. You were going to teach me about... everything. I miss you..." He swallowed, glancing at the other photos. Roxanne. Grandmama. He'd never get another jumper...
Alex stood for another moment, oddly cold even on this warm afternoon, then turned and moved aside, giving others a chance to come up, moving to a spot where he could watch, and think, and mourn.
I miss you...