Chapter 1- Liam
I felt like such a creep…
Standing behind a tree in Faestone Cemetery, phone held tightly to my side, I watched the tall, delicately thin woman. She hadn’t noticed me, at least…I didn’t think so. She was looking up to the sky, seemingly talking to herself, or maybe, a loved one that was long gone. She stood at a grave, her fingertips gently brushing the top of it as though she would hurt the stone if she touched too roughly.
I watched her turn her head completely away from me, continuing to talk. It was almost as if someone was there with her. She seemed so…out of place. Not modern, it seemed. But it wasn’t quite registering with me at the time, at least not yet.
“Goddammit, Lee, look away from her…go take pics of the graves…you fuckin creep,” I told myself, trying to pull myself away from watching her. I felt like one of those stereotypical “weird lesbians who stare at women,” but the truth was, she was just…really, really pretty. Like, the prettiest person I had ever seen.
Her hair was so long, down to her waist, straight and chestnut brown. I could really see the beautiful, natural highlights and lowlights in it as the sun shined on it as she was turned away from me. She wore an oddly-fitted suit, as well. Blue, with very thin, white pinstripes. The jacket fit perfectly, maybe even too tightly, but the pants were far too big, held up by a very thin belt that almost looked like a rope from where I was standing.
And then, she turned to look at me.
Her piercing, green eyes staring right at me, her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to speak to me. I panicked, turning around to look for other graves to admire. “She’s not looking at you, she’s not looking at you.” I told myself. Why I was feeling so nervous about her looking at me, I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because I had just been caught staring at her for God knows how long, and maybe she was going to yell at me or call me a freak or…Hell I didn’t know. All I knew was I needed to get out of that situation fast.
I found a grave, a small blue-grey one with a dove on top. It belonged to a seven year old boy named Edward.
“Hi, Edward,” I said to the grave, pulling my camera up on my phone. “Do you mind if I get your picture?”
I knew that he wouldn’t answer. They never did. And if they did, I’d probably be running faster than I did from that woman. It wasn’t really a matter of if they’d answer so much as I thought even if they were dead, I should still ask for permission before taking their photo. And after I stood there for a moment, bent down over the grave, admiring its details, I realized I wasn’t about to be struck down by any random lightning or anything, so I figured it’d be safe to take pics.
“Thanks, Edward,” I tell him, starting to click photos on my phone. I take a few of the full grave, as well as some of the details on the grave. I take my sweet time about it, trying my best to stop thinking about the woman.
Clouds start to cover the blue sky, and I check my weather app. Rain in five minutes. I decide to start heading out, and I stand up and stretch, my stomach peeking out from under my Rolling Stones tee. I adjust my shirt and turn around to see if I can spot the woman anymore. I walk over to the tree where I had been hiding and look past it, but there is no one there anymore.
Something makes me want to go to the grave she stood at. Maybe I could get some photos of it, too. I sigh, feeling like it might be a bad idea for some reason, my feet making their way over before my brain can tell them to stop.
“Turn back, go back. Come on, just leave…” I tell myself as I reach the old grave. It’s barely readable at this point. I kneel down in front of it, running my fingertips over the faded words. The first name is gone completely, but the last name is still, just barely there. “Curtis…” I whisper. I pull out my phone, getting my camera ready, when the rain starts to gently fall.
I start taking a few photos before the rain really starts to come down. “Shit…” I said to myself, standing up. I hesitate to leave the grave. “I wonder who you are to her, Curtis…” I said to the grave, turning around.
“It’s me.” She’s right there. Standing right in front of me. I take a step back, my back hitting the grave. Her hair is wet with rain, and it looks heavy.
“Oh…uh…hi…what?” I asked. She points at the grave.
“It’s me.” She tells me again. My eyes drift from her fragile hand to the grave’s side, and then back to her face. She is emotionless, her eyes green and soft, yet showing nothing I could read.
“I don’t think I understand what you’re saying?” I told her, softly smiling at her, trying to get any form of emotion out of her, but she was blocked off.
By this point, her hand had retreated from its pointing position, and now rested at her side again. She raised her left hand and brushed a stray strand of wet hair from her eyes, not saying anything for a moment. It was as though she was contemplating how to word her next statement.
“You were watching me…” She said, softly and barely a whisper. My eyes widened, and I shook my head.
“No no! No! You don’t get it, I just…I thought…I thought this grave…I thought…I thought the grave was cool! You just were standing there!” I said, gay panic setting in. I turned around to face the grave. “It’s just…so cool!” I laughed, before realizing…
She was standing in back of the grave now, once again in front of me. I turned my head to try to look behind me, but no, she had moved at an otherworldly pace. I turned back to face her.
“Uh…” I started to speak, but she cut me off.
“It is a beautiful grave. I’m surprised they made it so beautiful…given the situation…” She said with a soft smile, her fingers gently running along the top of the grave. “I can prove that it’s my grave.” She looks up at me and stares.
I should’ve ran. I wanted to. But she was so beautiful, and my gay ass wasn’t about to let a girl this pretty go without even trying. Even if she might be a weirdo. What started as me feeling like a creep had quickly turned into my feeling like I was being punked or something. There was no way any of this was real.
This was just supposed to be an adventure on a day off work. I had a few days off, and I wanted to go explore graveyards, one of my favorite activities. It wasn’t like I hadn’t run into people in a cemetery before. But they were never telling me that they were buried here before. This was definitely a first.
The woman reached her hand out towards me. “Here,” she said, nodding her head towards her hand. I knew that she wanted me to hold her hand. My heart pitter-pattered even faster than it already was, and maybe even skipped a beat. I don’t know, I wasn’t exactly paying attention. My focus was more on her hand, how thin and skeletal it seemed. Her nails were short, with just a hint of dirt under the nails. I thought to myself, maybe she was a ghost, or a zombie, and dug her way out of the ground.
“Oh, whatever, Liam,” I started to think…Sure I believed in ghosts. I believed in the afterlife, psychics, all of that. But I had never SEEN them. I had played around with Ouija boards and tarot cards and whatever else, but I had never experienced anything real. Or at least, I didn’t think I had. I had never invited anything in, truly. And I never thought I would.
Staring at her dainty hand, I felt my right hand moving on its own, like it had its own mind. I wasn’t moving it, it was just going on its own accord. I felt my body shaking, my legs weak, almost as if they’d give out at any second. It was such an intense, odd feeling to experience, something that I had never felt before.
And as my hand finally reached her own, my eyes closing in anticipation…
I felt nothing.
Nothing. Not a thing. Just the chill, wet air. I opened my eyes, looking down at the space where our hands should’ve met. Instead of our fingers touching, instead of my rough calloused fingertips feeling her soft skin…My hand was through hers. It didn’t make sense. It was as though she was there but wasn’t. I could see her crystal clear, as though she was there as much as me, but she wasn’t a physical human that could be touched. My hand shook as I tried to reach again for her hand, only to watch her skin mold around mine like smoke before forming back into a solid form around my own hand.
I looked up to her face, her green eyes staring at me with that emotionless look. She nodded, pulling her hand away from mine and resting it on the grave.
“This…is my grave. Do you believe me now? Or…maybe you should watch me some more?” She asked with a small smile, looking down towards the ground.
Before she could even look back up at me, I ran, tripping right over a shorter grave. My left knee landed first, cutting itself open on the hard cement shrine. I quickly stood, never stopping to check the wound, or to see if I was ok. I just ran.
I ran. And I kept running until I reached my car. And then I drove…Until I couldn’t see the graveyard anymore.
