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Sarah hadn’t meant to find them, honestly she was just looking for a deck of cards to play some Solitaire with when she’d happened across the binder.
It was a photo album, so of course there would be photos in it, logically speaking, but still. She didn’t exactly think her parents were the type to make something like this.
Sitting down on the attic floor, she began to shift through them, page by page.
It started with photos of people she barely remembered, cousins and grandparents she’d rarely seen. Then, eventually, there were several of her parents in their youth. She could see some photos marked with dates while others could only be guessed at.
She flipped the page and found the pictures of him. The photos spanned over his lifetime.
There were pictures from when Mark was a baby (a pretty chubby baby she mused quietly to herself), one’s during elementary school, him standing next to a much more baby-faced and young Caesar, some during a middle school award ceremony, a picture of teenage him holding her when she was just a baby with a wide smile directed at whoever had been holding the camera, photos where he was holding her small hand as he pointed out something or another, one of the two of them fast asleep in the back of a car, some of them stood outside a church, one with Caesar helping her up onto Mark’s shoulders as they all seemed to be laughing, etc.
She kept flipping, looking over page after page with a sense of longing, pausing with a shiver when his photos just… disappeared all together.
One page, full of them.
Some photos of him during his highschool years. A couple with him and some of his other friends making faces at the camera. Another where he was standing next to Caesar by a new car. Another of him blowing out his 18th birthday cake candles, Sarah’s small face peering up over the edge of the table as she watched.
The next? Just a single lone photo.
It was a picture of her, dressed up in a small black dress, three-years-old, sat in-front of what could only be a headstone.
She quickly turned the page.
There were no more photos of Mark after that.
They were either of her, photos of their old house, or some others of her parents. Most of them were pretty old by then, though she was startled to find some photos near the end from only a few years ago. One with her talking with some ex-boyfriend she’d forgotten the name of, a few celebrating birthdays, one with her and her father during a rare vacation holding fishing poles, and some from the time of her gradation.
A ghost of a smile flickered across her face and she flipped the page again, just to flinch hard.
There were only four photos on this page, it seemed to be the latest photos that had been added.
One was her, fast asleep, next to a familiar headstone. Her head tucked against the stone as a flower bouquet sat besides her. She remembered that day, it had been Mark’s birthday and she’d pulled an all-nighter the last couple of days, but she’d be damned if she didn’t celebrate with him. Her mother said she’d been out like a light the moment she’d sat down.
The second and third photos were of her parents and a few of their friends. These were from a vacation she hadn’t been able to go on because of something that had come up at the job she had had at that time.
The last was of her and a few members of the Bythorne Paranormal Society (back when things had been just starting). She remembered taking this photo outside of some park, one of the investigators (what was his name again? Something like Chris?) had recommended they do it, something about having an image or whatever. She wondered if he’d given a copy to her parents before he had left (he had to move out of state when his father lost his job).
The thing that really got her though, was who she was stood next to in the photo.
Adam-fucking-Murray.
Stupid black hoodie up, stupid half-smile on his stupid face (back when he did smile). One of her arms around his shoulders, her own smile sharp. They both looked like actual friends in this photo. She stared for a long time, frown deepening before she couldn’t look at it anymore.
Sarah closed the photo album gently.
A heaviness sat in her chest.
She took a deep, shaky breath in. Held it. Slowly released it before opening the album back up.
With a trembling hand, Sarah took three photos out. One of her and Mark, sat in a creek, her brother smiling brightly as he showed her something in his hands. The second one being one where she was stood with her parents on a beach, the sun setting behind them all. The last one… just the beginnings of some paranormal society ran by stupid, stupid kids.
She told herself it didn’t hurt and went back downstairs.