Grave Encounters

I despised everything that had to do with the supernatural. Anything that could not be rationally explained terrified me. That is why my fear for cemetery‘s frustrated me. 

So why was I being convinced to face this fear, by the simple plead that slipped by Harper’s supple lips?

“Please, I can’t go without you.”

“S-sure you can.”

She could hear my resolve crumpling.

“I don’t want to go without you.”

Maybe it was those damned sulking eyes, or who those eyes were longing for. How could I possibly be so heartless as to deny her? Her eyes had been cast off far away for a year, starting the day the of his death. I hated how jealous it made me feel, even without his presence he was the center of her world. I was growing tired of chasing after a ghost of her past to remain in her present. Hopefully tonight would do her good; hopefully she would be able to let go and move on with her life. 

That was how I found myself begrudgingly trailing after her through the darkness. The moon was clouded by grey, offering little light to our path. Our cheap torches would have to do. 

The stillness of the night felt suffocating. Rationally there was nothing to cause the fear that pricked at my skin. If anything, it was a perfectly peaceful night to take a stroll.

A stroll, that’s all that this was.

A calm walk through unsuspecting grounds...where bodies were buried.

‘Oh god.’ 

I took in a crippled breath to calm myself. Harper’s stride never lost determination. I hadn’t seen her so motivated in a very long time. She didn’t spare a glance at any of the graves that we passed. Our footsteps against the stoned walkway sounded intrusive against the silence. 

His grave stone stood a little off the path to our left. The stones that accompanied his own were strangers, names just carved in similar stone. What did it feel like to be surrounded by unfamiliar faces for eternity? Lying close to someone you had never met before, connected by the thin string of mortality? 

Harper knelt down to softly clean off any stray leafs that had fallen, gently caressing the letters with her fingers. 

I felt as if I was intruding on something no third party should pry into. I looked away, as if to give them privacy. It had always been that way, as unnerving as it was.

A strangled sob ripped itself from her throat; the very sound caused the hair of my arm to rise in freight. The sound was closer to banshee in nature than human. It raked her small form, causing it to shake violently as large tears rained down her flushed cheeks. I fought the urge to cradle her. The way her eyes remained wide open, staring at the stones carving as she howled froze me in place.

‘If it had been me that day, would she be mourning this way for me? Would Andy be standing in my place, enduring her cries as the clock struck midnight on the day that honoured my death?’

My heart wanted to whisper yes, but my mind knew the undesirable truth. 

No. 

Because I was not Andy. I would never be Andy. 

The bitterness that had taken permanent residence in the back of my throat fought for dominance over the guilt. What kind of friend was I to feel pity for myself over someone who had their life cruelly ripped from their grasp? How dare I try to take the only thing that he had left? 

She hiccupped an apology, one that I had not recognized directed to me at first. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this”

I shook myself back to reality as she gazed up at me with those pained eyes. Why did her gaze make me so uncomfortable? I cleared my throat, words suddenly very hard to form.

“It’s okay to miss him” I reinsured.

For someone with such a small frame she was quick on her feet. I wasn’t able to comprehend that she had leapt to her feet until I was in her vice grip. The new shed tears started to soak my shirt as she burrowed her face into the material. I willed my body to loosen from its shocked state and rested an awkward hand on her head, petting her soft locks in comfort. I was never one who dealt with physical contact well, but I was willing to push that aside for a brief moment if it meant that I could have her close in exchange. If only for a moment. 

“It’s okay to miss him” I repeated, the tears welling in my eyes as well. None shed.

If I’m being honest, grieving for Andy had always been difficult. The way that his death had consumed Harper, it was all that she became. It was as if she had taken ownership of grieving for everyone he had left behind. I understood that it was acceptable for a person to mourn a loved one, but the way that she had mourned it was as if her very reason to live had been stolen from her. I gritted my teeth as the bitterness returned. I was ashamed of how I wanted to embrace her, to hold her in my arms as if the world was crumpling around us. I clenched my fist at the temptation. I could embrace her as if she was mine, but she never would be. 

I was not Andy.

They didn’t know that I had seen everything from the background. How I noticed the lingering touches and the wanting gazes that they shared. I never had the courage to confront them about it, no matter how many times I had caught them without their knowledge. 

It was unnatural. Disgusting. Taboo. 

Yet they never ceased their affair. The confidence they had with their love set anger aflame in the pits of my stomach. 

Even though I was the one who had her vulnerable in my arms, I knew that I would never be her choice. She was passed reconcile, I knew that now. 

“Andy always loved you” I muttered softly as I dropped my hand to fall to my side. “You will always be his darling little sister”

I felt how her body stiffened at the words. Why did it bring me a spark of pleasure to see her react in such a way? 

Grief makes a monster of us all. 

Andy had been a close friend of mine, how could he have betrayed me in such a way?

She pulled away from me, gazing up at me in exhaustion; a small slither of fear was embedded in her reddened eyes. 

“How long?”

I laughed a strangled laugh, she didn’t have to elaborate any further, we both knew what she was referring to. “The whole time. You weren’t as sneaky as you two would like to think you were”

“I hope you can forgive me” she pleaded. 

My jaw tightened in anger, choosing to glare off the right, I couldn’t look at her anymore. She wanted forgiveness? I didn’t know if it was possible at that point. 

Her movements were quick; once again I was unaware of them until they right in front of me. This time, instead of soft thump of pain from her head into my chest it was sharp. Very sharp. I left out a gasp of pain as it worsened to a shearing heat. I looked down in confusion and then looked back at her in betrayal, the disbelief circling my brain not wanting to register the blade that she had dug into my chest. But sure enough she gripped the handle in shaking confidence. I felt my leg start to give out due to the shock. She had the audacity to cradle me in her arms and lower us to the ground. My breaths came out in short pants, every one sending a shock of pain through my body. I looked up at Harper; her hair framed her face as she gazed down at me. The way her eyes glimmered with new tears made them sparkle. I hated how beautiful she looked.  I could fool myself to think the way that her hand gently caressed my check was out of love. 

“Why?” I uttered as I could feel the blood pooling at the back of my constricting throat. 

“It’s the only way to bring him back. You were always such a good friend to us, thank you for your sacrifice”

I wanted to curse, to kick and scream at her insanity, to rip my head from her grip that now felt like the cold kiss of death. 

I didn’t have the energy to do any of that, nor to move as she leant in close. 

“I wish I could have loved you” she whispered in what sounded to be genuine pain. Her lips lightly brushed against mine, just a feather touch of the angel I had loved my whole life. 

Through my hazing vision I was able to make out an illuminating figure forming from behind her. The figure emerged from behind Andy’s tombstone. I watched in terror as it approached us. Noticing my distraction Harper drew back. Her face lit up to life for the first time in a long time as she gazed at figure.

“Andy” she whispered. My head was lowered and she was gone from my side. The ground felt cold without her presence. I was losing the strength to keep my eyes open. I watched as Harper ran into the awaiting arms of the man that she loved. Her cries of joy barely pierced through the fog that weighed down my brain. I saw Andy’s lips move but I could not hear what he said. He looked to tighten his grip on the girl. Harper’s voice rang through the air but I could not make out what words were being strung together. She seemed to want to move away from the hug but Andy would not unlock his arms. She started to thrash around as the darkness started to cloud the edge of my vision. She screamed and the sound could be felt at the base of my spine. Andy peered down at the failing female with indifference. Then his attention turned to me. Every feeling left my aching body under his gaze; all the pain and confusion. A pleasant numbness swam through my veins as he tightened his grip even more, his arms showing visible strain. 

The way her body burst into dulled golden dust did nothing to my dying mentality. I just watched as it piled at the man’s feet like freshly fallen snow. Then the darkness grew impatient.

I did not have many people that I cared for in life, it was one aspect that I was insistent on being picky about. So why was there so many people crying as they lowered the coffin into the freshly dug hole?

 The day was unromantically sunny for a funeral, the darkened attire of the guests made for a strange picture. The obnoxious white flowers that had been placed on the coffin mocked me as they were dirtied by the first shovels of dirt. I had stopped paying attention to the speeches when my brother had taken the podium. Any sincerity was lost by his forked tongue.

Funerals had always made me uncomfortable due to never having relationship to any of the departed to use the time to mourn. The exception had been Andy and that was solely due to me wallowing in pity and anger of the situation rather than the sorrow of a life lost. So why would mine be any different?

I watched as the guests were ushered out of the cemetery once the ceremony had ended to resume the crocodile tears and false sympathies at the family home accompanied by overly priced tea and overly sweet cake. 

I looked down at the hole that had been dug into the ground. There was yet to be a tomb stone.  The ground that had been dug had been adjacent to the very spot that I had bled out, how romantic. 

He was as quick and quiet on his feet as his sister. I only noticed his presence once our well tailored shoulders brushed. I felt no resentment. Why didn’t I feel any resentment? 

He didn’t utter a word, much like that night. But he didn’t need to. He never did.

We stood in silence at first, watching over at the well kept hills of memories etched into stone. 

A laugh bubbled in my chest and spilled out in a breathless fashion. 

Andy looked at me in question and I returned it with a smile.

“I fucking hate cemeteries.”