What was I doing here? I knew I shouldn't have come, but my conscience clawed at the marrow of my morality. Being in this vicinity did not make a saint of me, though it somehow conducted repose through my system.
Here was my place of birth and preliminary education. The reason I wished to avoid it? Associative memories that would not die, even as the last of my childhood did. That alone was why I came.
Stephen Hask was my greatest friend in innocence. Having been adopted by his devout grandparents, he grew in the chapel from the beginning - that, in fact, is what led us to meet at such a tender age. Thus, our worlds collided with a thunderous bang. Our hearts fell in love.
Years later, I've found myself standing in his home, looking into a cotton-seamed casket. Stephen's appearance made me wish he was sleeping, though perhaps he moved to something greater in his death. His grandmother approached me with a sigh. "He loved you, you know."
Yes, I knew, as I know now. Tears never passed my aqua-ducts, and screams never passed my caverns.