Ode

Praise the dead

Hey, Lav.

Last night was a first quarter moon, which would’ve constituted today as a status report.

In case you forgot.

This isn’t me being condescending. Personally, I’d want a reminder if I’d been stuffed in the dirt two years ago.

I brought flowers this time. Picked them myself. There was a lavender tree and it made me wonder how you’d been. Lavender for Lav. Haha. Okay. You didn’t laugh.

It’s hard to lighten up anymore. Sometimes I remember when I said something childish and you laughed. It wasn’t ridicule, though that was what you were known to do. Something made you happy. At least, I like to believe.

I get it now.

Why you were so miserable. I never understood why you seemed like you wanted to kill yourself or your colleagues until now. Now is hell. You’d probably be aghast. I’m already imaging the look you’d give me.

You’d say: Really Grayson? All it took was my nomination? Then you’d shake your head in disdain. You’re not meant to be miserable, that’s my shtick.

Not anymore, asshole. Misery has been mine to claim since the solitary confinement.

If you even remember that.

You told me that my friendship with Logan was important. And when I told you that he wanted to dye his hair pink and wear clown make up, you encouraged me to be supportive of whoever the kid may become. And then I bleached our hair. I colored mine green and Logan’s came out a dusty pink.

How was I supposed to know the Madame wouldn’t take kindly to the kid’s self expression? How was I supposed to know she’d blame me for “confusing and tainting a perfectly rounded child” over fucking hair dye​?

I took your advice to stand my ground. I said no way in hell are you pulling out my eye. And what did the overseer do? She forced me to keep my eyes open for a week straight. In that room. And you didn’t stand up for me when I needed you.

I needed you.

Sorry.

You hugged me after I was released. I keep forgetting that. You were at a loss for words. You saw how different I looked. Part of you looked horrified. Or disappointed. But you just hugged me. What else were you supposed to do?

Then you were taken. Chrysanthemum Corday. He was the sleaze you warned me about. The one more interested in having company every night over maintaining order. That sly fox murdered you and then pinned it on his kid sister.

I’m going to turn him in eventually. I’ll find him. He’ll be executed in time.

I wish we could’ve talked before it happened. I wish. I wanted to say goodbye.

Now all I have left of you is that stupid daisy basket you prepared. It would’ve been easier to forget but you just had to nominate me as your successor.

And I’ve got to say something really selfish. I finally met the woman you’ve aforementioned. The one whom you described as melancholy with her head kept low.

Lav, dear Lav, why did you choose me to be your friend? Why couldn’t you have comforted that sad woman instead? If only you gave her a shoulder to lean on, for now she is a massive pain in my ass.

Good god, she is insufferable. Absolutely insufferable. She always wears this large smile to cover up the fit of rage that could spill onto you if you accidentally tip her over the edge with mere eye contact. Creepy. Not normal.

I do not care if the combat training has somehow damaged her beyond repair. Her bright cheery voice and her stifled laughs are on my last nerve.

Unfortunately, she’s also the Madame’s favorite.

They’re definitely lovers. S will deny this, yet the Madame always has her in her office. It’s only S she requests. It’s so irritating. She doesn’t deserve her position. Not in the slightest. Unstable, unqualified.

I’ve actually earned my spot. Even with your praise, I’ve still had to prove myself time and time again just to be recognized officially as a General. Because I had committed the offense of dying Logan’s hair.

And Lav, the worst part about all of this? I truly wish that the Madame would give me the amount of recognition she gives to S. I want her to acknowledge my versatility. If only I could flaunt my beauty and boast, but I have nothing.

I’m not as pretty as her.

The Madame probably thinks I’m too childish. Maybe I am. I just want her to look at me.

We’re more than our mistakes. You used to say that every time I missed.

Anyway. I’m meant to retrieve Logan tomorrow. He’s 13 now. It’s been a year since his exile, and the Madame wants to see if he’s made any progress. There’s a carriage being prepared tonight, and then my journey will begin at dawn. If the Madame’s heir has strayed too far from where he was originally placed, it is my duty to track him down and bring him home.

I will continue to search for your killer on the trip.

In the meantime, I hope you are resting well. You were always a good listener. Thank you for letting me update you once more.

May your spirit enjoy this bouquet until the wind carries it away.