Digging My Grave 소설 & 이야기

My voice crumbled towards the end. I bowed my head, letting the tears just pour, letting my heart feel the pain and hurt with no attempt to put a leash on it. After about a minute of sobbing, I raised my head up and the shovel of sand was the first thing I saw. My heart broke even more as I took my trembling hand to the shovel. I dug my fingers around the soul before grabbing some in my hand and pouring it onto the coffin.

From the shadows, the ghost’s whisper slid through the air: “She buried you with her. The grave doesn’t belong to her anymore; It belongs to you.” The soil began to crack open, and air hissed upward like steam, sounding like a fire about to ignite. Vincent’s golden eyes blazed with intensity. He flexed his claws as he spoke fiercely. "If this grave holds me... I’ll destroy it." The soil cracked even more, and brilliant light burst through—blinding white. The sound rose louder and louder, like an explosion about to tear the world open. Vincent braced himself, coiling his body in anticipation of facing the blast.

Shaking my jaw from within. "Finn..." Finn's laugh. The stupid bark of it over dice games. "Wren..." Wren's body in the crescent. Throat opened, arranged neat. "Blaze..." The burial. My hands in frozen dirt. The sound the shovel made. "Shut up," I whisper. Recoiling. It doesn't stop. The whispers stack, overlapping. Each name a face. A body. A hole in the ground I dug. "Ash... Kira... Nash..."

I was a gold digger from the womb. Even before I was born, I loved money more than life itself. When I heard my parents had gone bankrupt, I strangled myself with my own umbilical cord and got myself reborn into a rich family instead. Later, a human trafficker snatched me and tried to sell me off to some backwater village. I grabbed his knife to him and threatened him, "I only go to families worth over a hundred million dollars. Sell me to some poor family, and you're dead!" He was scared half to death and had no choice but to dump me at the door of a police station. When I grew up, I took it even further. I worked as a stand-in girlfriend for eight billionaire CEOs. From the moment I op

*We'll have to dig up her grave. I stared at them both, something hot and furious rising through whatever remained of me. Hadn't I already suffered enough? Hadn't my death been humiliating enough, painful enough, without them now considering disturbing my grave, exhuming my body like some grotesque science experiment simply because they couldn't accept the obvious truth staring them directly in the face? *Why can't you just let me rest?* I screamed uselessly, my voice meaningless against walls that would never hear me. *Haven't you taken enough from me already?*

"That has nothing to do with her." "It doesn't need to." I remember it as clearly as yesterday—the two of us, younger, digging a grave in the ice with our bare hands for a broken little creature nobody else thought worth mourning. It is small and broken, and no one else will kneel for it. "If I hear that phrase and nothing stirs, take me to where we buried it. If I stand there and still feel nothing, then she's already gone from me completely. There's no point asking a stranger about something even I can't remember." "That's insane." Azrael's voice shakes. "You're betting everything on a dead fox."

"Just keep digging, just keep digging." I didn't bother to hold back the small smile of happiness on my face. Here I was, digging up a grave of my fake girlfriend's murdered father and she still seemed to make me smile. I was so whipped, it sucked. After two minutes, my shovel hit something wooden and we froze. She gulped and I looked at her. "Are you sure? We can still call someone." She shook her head. "No, let's do this." I nodded and soon the plain wooden coffin was there in front of us. There were three lilies engraved on top, the spaces between them filled with sand. It looked old and sullen as if it didn't want the sand to get off it.

I walked through, ignoring the broken frames, the crumbling plaster, the ghosts of who we were. Straight to the back. Toward what used to be a garden. I hadn’t been here since that night. The night I killed her. The night I buried London. The garden was gone. Weeds had taken over the soil. The trellises were broken, and the fountain was dry, cracked open like a corpse left to decay. But I knew the spot. Muscle memory guided me there. And what I saw stopped me cold. The grave— London’s grave—had been dug up.

Even after everyone had paid their respects at my gravestone, I couldn’t find his figure among the crowd. As people began to disperse, only Troy and Mom remained at the gravestone. They shared one last glance before leaving. I sat idly in front of my gravestone, trying to appear strong. “Troy to choose such a nice photo. All those hours I spent editing it weren’t in vain, at least it’s serving a purpose now,” I said loudly, to no one in particular. Then my emotions suddenly burst forth like a dam breaking. The realization that I was dead and would never again sit with everyone I loved overwhelmed me, and I began to weep uncontrollably.

" So I should leave it for you to bury?I'll do whatever I want with the body, I do not give a bloody hell about consecrating the body . I yelled . I dragged the body to the back of the house, dug up a grave with the shovel I found inside Natasha house, i had a really difficult time digging the grave as I wasn't used to this kind of things, it was however a matter of urgency, it is actually better I bury it without consecrating instead of leaving the body for Natasha to commit different kind of atrocities with it . Before dusk I was done with burying my body, my body was so filled with dirt, I looked really tartared, I just wanted to go home and freshen up .