Digging My Grave Novels & Stories

I needed to complete the rest of the process by clinging to the hope that it might help her transformation. “Careful pet … you’re making me nervous,” my voice wavered as my hands trembled as I carefully lifted her stiff body, making my way through the garden and behind the manor. The moon’s pale light cast long shadows and the chill of night was settling in. Gently, I laid her on the wooden bench, feeling a shiver run down my spine. In the corner of my vision, I spotted the shovel stacked against the shed. I checked the pointers on my watch, ensuring that the moon was at the perfect angle before starting to dig. But damn it, the peak of its rays had already begun moving. I should have dug th

Uncle Harry has no family and friends, so no one will ever come looking for him. We don't have any neighbors because of how poor the infrastructure in this particular part of the street is, so I look at Mom, and she nods, the last option; we bury him in our yard. I rush into the apartment and return with a shovel. The worms in my stomach and tired muscles are revolting against me to drop the shovel and reverse my little energy, but I ignore the hunger and lower myself and start digging. Tired, sweating, panting, and covered in breath, I keep digging until it's 6 ft deep, or I think it's 6 ft deep, then we push Uncle Harry's lifeless body into his grave.

Liam whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the midst of my emotional storm. Gasping for air between sobs, I trembled as I relived the nightmare. "The elders... they were there, Liam. They threw me into a deep, suffocating grave, burying me alive with handfuls of dirt. I screamed, but the dirt kept falling, and I couldn't breathe..." Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to articulate the horror that had seized my dreams. "It felt so real, Liam. I was trapped, and they just kept burying me."

I cried and screamed and kept trying to kick and punch until it finally opened on one side. I felt around and all this was soil, solid soil and it was difficult for me to dig without using tools, only my fingers kept clawing at the soil until finally the soil suddenly became soft and I easily tried to get out of this soil. Very heavy rain made this place full of water and it seeped inside. There's no mistaking it, this is a funeral which means I've been buried dead.

David answered. Instantly, the grave of Olivia's mother, who had passed away several years ago, was excavated. Olivia was suddenly overcome with grief and she wept as the grave was opened. David lunged forward, grabbing Olivia’s shoulders before she could step forward, nearly tumbling into the excavated hole. The grave—her mother's final resting place, where she had slept soundly for years—was now exposed, revealing the darkness within. Fresh earth was scattered everywhere, and the signs of desecration were glaringly obvious.

The moon began to hide. Burying a man is not just digging a hole. It’s admitting that he existed. And you’re done with it. The sound of the shovel cutting through the earth was dry and rough. Each blow was accompanied by a memory that I did not want to have. The moment he fell, the empty gaze, the silence. The earth smelled strong, moist, almost alive. I threw it sideways one, two, three times, until the hole seemed deep enough. But it never was. Nothing would be enough.

"Yeah, she's dead. So, tell me, how'd a dead woman spend 150 grand on the card my dad gave you?" Jackie grabbed my wrist. Impatiently, he scolded, "What is wrong with you? Why are you digging up Yvonne's grave? Are you out of your mind?" His grip was so strong, I thought my bones were cracking, but that pain was nothing compared to what my heart was going through. He used to lose sleep just because he raised his voice at me. Now, he was scolding me for another woman. I flung his arm away and jabbed a finger at Yvonne's photo.

"If.... If I'm ever going to have a baby again, I wish to have you again. That could... That could really make me feel so happy." I didn't even see what he or she looked like. It was still very much premature. I turned on the candle I brought with me, singing 'Happy Birthday' song to myself before turning off the candle. It was when I stood up, I noticed a dying flower by the side of the tombstone. I made a mental note to ask the old man who took care of the cemetery about it. A sharp pain grazed my stomach, making me halt. My hand curled into a fist. After I had regained consciousness, I moved my legs carefully. When I was sure enough that I wasn't feeling any pain again, I walked back to t

She smelled it. Fresh grave soil. Her heartbeat spiked. She checked her shoes. Mud. She checked her nightshirt. Dirt streaks. Olivia felt a chill run through her spine. She walked to the mirror. Her hands were trembling. She whispered: “What did I do?” Then she saw something. A dry leaf, The type used to line burial sites, Stuck in her hair. The realization hit fast, sharp, brutal. She hadn’t just sleepwalked again. She hadn’t just visited the chamber. She had been digging. Her mother’s grave. And she had no memory of doing it…

I fell to my knees in front of my parents' old, overgrown graves and began to dig into the earth with my bare hands. The dirt tore at my skin, but I didn't feel the pain. My fingernails cracked and bled, mixing my own blood with the mud, but I kept digging. I dug with a feral, tireless speed, fueled by pure, unadulterated rage. With every handful of dirt I threw over my shoulder, I envisioned Mabel’s face. I envisioned snapping her neck. By the time the twin graves were deep enough, my hands were raw and caked in filth. Gently, reverently, I placed Toby and Leo side by side into the earth. I smoothed down their hair and kissed their cold foreheads.