Marigold Grave

He used to love marigolds. Their bright, vibrant color matched his bubbly personality. Some of the boys made fun of him for having a favorite flower ("What are you, a girl or something?"), but Travis didn't seem to mind. Of course, he never seemed to mind, and that was the problem. He had always been a quiet kid. Shyness meant that he kept to himself most of the time, so there weren't many people to notice him. It didn't much matter now though.

Kalie wandered through the graveyard, clutching a bunch of marigolds in her hands. The area was tranquil and peaceful on this warm summer day. She paused for a moment, feeling the sun's warm rays on her face, before she continued on.

He used to be a marigold: a splotch of yellow among a consuming field of green. When they had been children, Kalie had always teased him that he was more of a girl than she was, as she plucked the yellow flowers from the ground and wove them into a crown for him. He would bow his head and she would crown him king Travis, the best brother in the world. The other boys would laugh at him for playing "dress up" with the girls, but Travis never minded. At least, Kalie thought he hadn't minded. Turned out that years of bullying eventually wore even the king himself down. Like a marigold in autumn, he began to wither and fade, but he kept it to himself, afraid of showing that he was falling apart, that his petals were dropping one by one.

Kalie clutched the flowers tightly in her hands as a tear slid down her cheek and plopped into the grass beneath her. She looked up to orientate herself, then continued on.

He used to love marigolds. When Travis first fell in love, he gathered up a grouping of the yellow flowers and cautiously wrapped them in some wax paper, then put them in his backpack to bring them to school the next day. As he waited for the bus the next morning, a group of boys found the flowers, and promptly set to work beating up the "Queer." By the time they were done, the marigolds lay in pieces on the ground around Travis, whose black eye and bloodied lip stood as a testament to how his peers viewed him. Still, he wiped away the tears, got on the bus, and spent the entire day convincing people that he had simply tripped going down the stairs. He saw the boy he had fallen in love with, but he was too embarrassed to say anything in the state he was in. By the time he had healed up, the boy had already found a girl, and Travis went back to being the kid nobody saw.

Kalie's breaths came shallow and fast as she wandered towards her destination.

Marigolds are perennial. Year after year, no matter the harshest winter or the most blistering summer, they rise once again to reclaim life. That was what Kalie had always admired about Travis. No matter how harsh the winters he endured, he continued to come back as beautiful as before. Kalie loved watching him blossom and bloom. Regardless of the pain, he endured. Year after year he rose. Until one day he didn't.

Kalie pulled the marigolds up to her nose and took in their fragrance, thinking back to the bright shining face that she always chose to remember her brother having. The scent brought her back to those times at the park, twisting the flower stalks together into a crown for him. He would watch her hands with intensity and with a deep passion she had never seen anybody else have, nor she figured she ever would again.

They had decided on "marigold" as their accent colors. Travis had worked up the courage to ask another young man out for prom, and of course, marigold was their accent color choice. Kalie stood in front of her little brother, fluffing the bright yellow pocket square so that its ruffles looked more intentional. He had smiled and laughed when she asked about his date, and after a quick hug, she sent him on his way to pick up his date. As Travis and Kevin pulled up to the prom, the car was surrounded by several boys. By the time they were done with the duo, the marigold accents had become stained with red and strewn across the pavement. Travis and Kevin felt too hurt to go in and face the rest of their fellow students, so they decided to drive home. Travis was too upset to drive, and the corner had been too sharp, and like a surprise winter frost, the marigolds were wiped out forever.

They had buried Travis in a patch of marigolds, out by the edge of the cemetery. Kalie stood in front of the small tombstone with her brother's name engraved on it. It was simple, just like he would have wanted. Nothing flashy or showy. Just a simple placard rising out of a field of yellow. She knelt down and laid the bouquet of marigolds on top of the stone. Then she sat down with her back pressed up against the tombstone. Almost absentmindedly, she plucked several of the marigolds from the ground and began threading them through one another until they formed a magnificent crown. Kalie smiled gently to herself, then turned around and knelt before the small stone slab. Reaching up, she placed the crown gently on the narrow ridge. Then, with a bow, she stood up and began heading back towards the path that wound its way up to the front. Travis had been a marigold, but unlike the flowers he so loved, he would never again blossom like he always had before.