Friend Of The Dead

Deathful Graveyard

Unedited

Walking past the crispy autumn trees and the shaking crunched ranged leaves, I took a second to calm my head, the internal battle, and to just enjoy the scenery. The leaves crusted under my shoes, the sound making the hum of the wind a distant background sound. A chill ran through me but I barely noticed, in the last two days and nine hours that I have kept myself cooped up in my room, I barely took notice of the changing scenery and the beauty in it.

I arrived at the end of my walk, standing before the all too familiar land.

Gravestones lined the eerie graveyard, some recently placed, whereas others cracked and crumbling. Mould covered the engravings dedicated to the dead, trees leaning towards the stones, almost bare branches reaching out to each other. The smell of old stone filled the dry air, weeds covering the graves of the dead, loved ones long since stopped visiting. Gravel paths weave through the maze of graves, allowing passersby to pay their respects to the people lined up in the earth's embrace.

The disembodied voices of souls that once walked the earth seemed to be carried through the fog that was rising from the cracks in the porous path. It sounded like the wind was whistling through the trees, but. . .there was no whistling wind. Tombstones were crumbling from the weathering that they had experienced throughout the years and the engravings had nearly disappeared.

I walked a small step, a crunching sound filling the silence because of dead leaves. I breathed in a deep cold breath.

Rows of tombstones stood erect in silence to the left and right, in front and behind, like a sea of the dead. Some were cracked with the weathering of centuries; some were smooth marble with new black writing and laid with floral tributes. Most though, were overgrown and unkempt, for now, even their mourners had joined them under the clay soil. This was Forks Washington's Cemetery.

I weaved my way throughout the maze of souls, keeping my hands in tight fists in my pocket. A silence stretched through the graves, a silence neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It made the 'crunch' sound my shoes made every time I stepped over leaves a whole lot louder.

I stepped over a jabbing rock and made my way to Athena's grave, my feet carrying me on their own. I had a weird feeling bubbling up in me, a feeling strange that felt like either excitement or fear, perhaps a combination of both.

Soon I found myself standing rigidly in front of the tombstone engraved with Athena's name. The words were so familiar yet right now they were foreign. My hands were close to shaking as I un-fisted them. I attentively took my gloves off, taking my time with each finger. Soon there was nothing to do to help me procrastinate. All I could do was watch the grave with mixed feelings.

"Perhaps I should. . .perhaps I shouldn't." I mumbled under my breath. Thoughts clouded my heads, too many thoughts. Perhaps if I touch it nothing will happen, maybe no shock will go through me and no glowing figure will appear in front of me.

But as I thought about it, a feeling of dread went through me. For some reason, I didn't want that to happen. I reached out my hand, and just as I was about to touch the marble with my fingers, footsteps poked me out of my thoughts.

I pulled back my hand just as someone called my name.

"Sophie?" Anthony's voice called as I stood up and hurriedly put my gloves back on. Tony noticed my hand movement and looked down, perhaps shocked to see me without my gloves on.

"Sophie are you alright? You were mumbling to yourself and you look. . .odd." He glazed me over with his beautiful blue eyes, and I found myself avoiding his gaze as I answered.

"Uh. . .yeah. I just wanted to visit Athena. What are you doing here?" I asked. He cast me a look as he answered.

"Same reason as you, I figured I could pay Tina a little visit---I've been so busy with college applications and all that it's been kind of hard to come over here." He said as he walked forward. I took the time to look him over.