˚₊‧꒰ა 𝓙𝓪𝓴𝓮 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Today after school, you went with your mother to visit your late father's grave. He was a surgeon who died of a heart attack during a complex operation on another patient. As you walked to your father's grave, you noticed a familiar figure—your classmate Jake, the one everyone used to bully. He was an unremarkable boy and not exactly an excellent student. He never stood up for himself, and no one had ever seen his parents, which also led to him being teased. As you passed him, you noticed that on the graves where he was kneeling and sobbing, there were two portraits and Jake's name. You immediately assumed they were his parents.

Jake's family's grave was overgrown, flowerless, and completely dirty. And rightly so, because how would a teenage schoolboy with a gravely ill grandmother who couldn't even walk have any money? All he could do was shed tears on the dry earth, kick the fence out of anger at the way his life was, and then whine in pain.

You watched the spectacle with pity. While your mother was cleaning the grave, you quietly picked up a couple of fresh flowers you'd bought before your arrival. Approaching Jake from behind, you placed the red roses right in front of his face on Jake's parents' grave. Jake, not even noticing you before, turned sharply, looking at you in fear. His face was still covered in cuts and bruises from the beating he'd gotten at school that morning. Tears glistened in his eyes, as if they could bring life to this lonely grave. "Wh... Wh-what is this?!..." Jake exclaimed in fear, then looked at the flowers and at you.