MlledeLaRoseBlanche would love your feedback! Got a few minutes to write a review?
Write a Review

Long Live the Dead

By MlledeLaRoseBlanche All Rights Reserved ©

Drama / Thriller

The Chapter

It was a remarkably sunny day, one in which the frost was burned off the grass in the moment of an hour and the birds were busily working towards their winter preparations. The light glanced off lacquered headstones, crosses and blocks, their names but shadows under the glare. A young woman crouched before a columbarium of thick granite surrounded by diamond-patterned tile, her fingers resting lightly on a plaque. In place of flowers in the holder, was a handkerchief tied to it, now tattered and yellowed from the weather and the sun, the monogram shredded. She traced the letters; she slowly spelled the name in the whispers of her touch on the chilled metal. Tears froze to her cheeks as a brief blast of wind whipped about her long, pale-brown hair.

She remembered the day like a nightmare, remembered the hospital staff rushing her from the room as they tried to revive him. He had fallen asleep; he had promised he would not when she visited. Yet, he had, and he fell into an asthmatic crisis, gone within moments. She could imagine the birthday present she had never been able to give him, the one that had arrived a day later, that which he had worn in his death: a plain silver chain with a pendant. He had had a strange fascination with portrait pendants.

His image haunted her. She had kept all his pictures, his drawings, his art, the centre being his portrait in the spray of silken lilies she had carelessly crushed when she had thrown her body on his coffin as they went to take him away after the service. If she tried hard enough, she could still smell their perfume, but she was not supposed to try to remember that anymore, or what had led to that point. It only brought them back, the voices that had so ill advised her in their ignorance, and those men who had whispered in her ears and inspired her for so long that she once thought them to be real. She had seen glimpses of them in crowds, in shadowy places, and it took all her efforts in her therapy to move on from them and from him.

Straightening from her crouch with groan, her knees as stiff as the frost-dusted grass, she spied that man watching her from the opposite side of the columbarium and froze. She could see the dark head with its dark blue eyes in a face white as the moon under the broad-brimmed hat, half pinned up and spilling with black and white ostrich plumes. She violently shuddered. The tears came harder and faster, whimpers fighting themselves free from her lips.

“No,” she begged, “No... Please...” He came towards her around the granite block, and she buried her hand deep into the pocket of her coat, fingers fumbling.

“Just leave me alone!” She struggled with the small plastic bottle with its tiny plastic lid that slipped under her sweaty digits and refused to open. She glanced up quickly and saw that he was taking his time with slow, easy steps like those that one would make when trying not to frighten an animal or when trying to hunt it. The bottle’s lid popped off and spilled the key to her salvation over the tiles. She dropped down, scrambling to get one, just one little plastic coated piece, anything to stop the nightmare. A boot, black leather with a thick wedge heel and a gleaming spur stopped her and pressed its toe on top of two of her fingers that held a pill.

“Vous n'avez pas besoin de cela.” She could not remember the last time she had spoken French, but his words echoed cavernously in her ears.

“Leave me alone,” she pleaded. “You have done enough. You took him away from me.”

“Ce n'était pas mon intention.” How could it not have been when she had watched this vision sit up from his corpse in these dated, ridiculous clothes and leave without a backward glance?

“You are not real. All you are is a product of my imagination from when I was lonely and desperate. You’re a hallucination, just like the other three.” She went to pull her fingers back with her prize, but his toe ground harder on them to stop her.

“I don’t want to listen to any of you anymore! Go to hell!”

“Ma’am, are you alright?” She whipped around on her knees to find herself facing a groundskeeper, who watched her with nervous and curious intent. Wiping at her eyes and forcing a smile, she stood quickly to face him.

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you. Grief is a funny thing sometimes.”

“Are you sure? You were shouting and I didn’t see anyone—.”

“Was I? I’m sorry. Excuse me.” She marched away, leaving him standing there still puzzled, and returned to the car she had left parked on the roadway that wound its way through the cemetery. Sitting numbly in the driver’s seat, she gripped the steering wheel with her right hand in an effort to alleviate her shaking and reached into her coat pocket with her left. The pill bottle was there, capped and seemingly untouched, and when she looked at her hand, the first two fingers were bruised.

Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, MlledeLaRoseBlanche
Continue Reading
Further Recommendations

William Elliott Kern: Whew. one telling his story, in the Bar, to his friend, who questions some circumstances that need clarity, The Confusion comes from a man, carrying his dead friend Chappies, while conversing with himself, and Chappies, and his alter ego......a broken mind, not yet forgotten..........The Author ...

heavyonbooks: I admire your creativity. You have written a great piece. I want to promote your Inkitt book for free to my list of newsletter subscribers. If that is alright by you then please email me at exzordersplrwso AT to book your spot, thanks.

Laraine Smith: My only suggestion on the grammar is to use I have it bookmarked on Google Chrome. I see myself in the determination in this beautiful story! I have Cerebral Palsy, and I have dreams that I have been working hard for, too! The humor made me laugh!

SeanSavage: Good plot that moves fairly quickly. Time passage somewhat vague. but not indecipherable. Very good syntax, grammar and punctuation. The story flowed very well, however, the breaks between chapters and the time jumps tended to be slightly confusing at first. I could see where the author was going...

cato50802: this book is truly well developed and truly captivating, I thoroughly enjoyed every part of the book. there are little to no grammatical errors, and the characters are very interesting. it’s one of those books that’s hard to stop reading!

More Recommendations

csimesser1: If you love a biker romance with a lot of drama then this book is for you. Some of the plot was very predictable but there was plenty of twists to keep you reading. I could not stop reading it

ElusiveBadwolf: This book was so beautiful to read. I loved how Lizzy was finishing Hayden's list off for he self couldn't complete it and now she is learning to move on. In the end i cried, because i couldn't think about moving on if i was in her position. And how she had forgiven him by not being there with he...

Alkira Joan: Great story, I found it hard to read especially the dialogue. You just need to fix up some spelling errors and the gramma .I enjoyed this book. was a little hard to get though.,.,..,.,.,,..,.,.,, , , , ,.,, , , , , , , ,., ,,.,,,,,

Riskaninda Maharani: This story told about love between Christopher Schlösser (a German) and Anggia Selestina (an Indonesian) that happened in Düsseldorf, Germany in an autumn. The German autumn which was so different with the autumn in the other four season countries, especially in Anggia's eyes when her heart-movin...

{{ contest.story_page_sticky_bar_text }} Be the first to recommend this story.

About Us:

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.