Emma Henry A Peaceful Visit “Hi, Autumn. I hope you’ve been well,” I say, sitting on the sun-warmed stone bench. A giggle like bells echoes from next to me. Beautiful waves of dark auburn fill the corner of my vision. I stay facing forward. “I’ve been fine! How about you?” she says, voice sounding like drops of honey. The auburn hair shifts slightly, becoming slightly more visible. Still, I don’t look directly. Instead, I stare at the variety of flowers right in front of me – white baby’s breath, pink camellias, crimson roses, and white lilies. “I’m as happy as I can be given everything that happened. I’ve finally started to move on. To let myself heal.” Warm pressure hits my shoul- der, squeezing. The same shoulder that the auburn is on. My right. A cool breeze lightly blows across my face, the scent of flowers left in its wake. The breeze takes the warmth from my shoulder and blows the auburn almost fully frommy vision. Almost, but not quite.
“Good. I’m happy for you. You’ve carried the weight of the accident by yourself for so long. It’s not your fault, my love.” The breeze picks up speed, pink and red petals dancing prettily in my vision. The accident. That awful, aw - ful accident. My vision blurs with tears, the auburn growing smudged. Movement in the corner of my eye makes my head jerk and almost look to the right. I resist. I have to resist. I can’t look at the auburn. As much as I want to, as much as I long to, I can’t. But I wish I could so, so badly. “Autumn…. Do you remember that night? How h-happy we were at the start?” My voice
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