Romans & histoires Don't Weep At My Tombstone

” I said, feeling tears prickle my eyes. ”I think you and I both know that is never going to happen Ms.Shaw. The day he moves on from you is the day they place a tombstone on his grave,”

Here’s how we can structure and simplify the epilogue: --- "Hey Dad..." she whispered, kneeling gently beside the weathered tombstone. Her fingertips brushed over the engraved name, now softened by years of exposure to rain, sun, and the passage of time. She felt a mix of heaviness in her heart, but somehow, being here always made her feel a little lighter too, like part of the weight of missing him was shared by the earth holding him now.

Without saying a word, I nodded. Carefully placing one foot in front of the other, I walked through the maze of graves, my eyes scanning the inscriptions on each and every stone, my mind filled with curiosity and a sense of reverence. My emotions were a jumbled mess of sadness and anticipation as I drew closer to the place where Megan now rested. The stone monument was a haunting reminder of her life, with a large headstone standing as a testament to her existence, elegantly adorned with her name in an ornate font. Every beat of my heart felt like a reminder of her absence, intensifying the pain and causing it to clench tightly in my chest.

The sun is high in the sky and shines directly on the headstones. A Warrior. A Friend. A Savior. Tears stream down my face as I dig my fingers into the grass. “Ten years,” I sputter, “I can finally say goodbye after ten years.” I lay sobbing on the ground for what feels like hours before I can stop the tears. I wipe my eyes on my shirt and breathe deeply. My face is probably red and puffy and my hair is no doubt full of dirt and twigs. “Who’s the third one? The one with the golden wings?” I ask. My voice comes out as a painful rasp.

The tears flow and I let them, because she's worth every single drop. Finally I rise, promising to be back soon, and head towards the others. I make sure not to look at any of the other headstones closely, because my mind likes to get carried away and I might read saddening details. I take deep breaths as I move along, wiping my cheeks and my nose to hide evidence of my crying. There are statues of stone carvings placed at some points in the cemetery, of angels and birds. Big statues that loom over everything else, and I skirt around one, looking up to the angel's face. Smooth and relaxed, as if oblivious to the darkness of this place.

Instead, I drifted away, gazing into the distance. I liked the cemetery's location. It overlooked a glittering lake—the same one where I used to stare at my reflection as a pup. Only Leo would think to bury me somewhere I would have loved. By the time they were too exhausted to continue fighting, they both lay on the ground, wounded, staring up at the moon. Leo bared his teeth at Ryan, panting heavily as if he wanted nothing more than to tear out his throat. "How dare you come to Tiana's grave?" he growled. "She just wanted to rest in peace, not be your possession even in death!"

She was too busy to grieve over the death of Mary. Sometimes I really don't understand her sadness. We all have to die one day. Isn't it useless to cry your eyes out for someone who will never return? I've learned from experience. No matter how much I cried, my parents never came back. If people who are still alive won't come back, how will the dead?

Somehow I can’t help but let out a giggle ‘there is no such word as bestest, lea’ Thinking about those times surely is great to remember… I don’t know why but… somehow… I can’t help but feel sad. Right… they are gone… I can never see them again. I want to vicist them again saomehow.. Halting for a bit, did I just said… again? did I visit them already? Why can’t I… And so a sight of their tomb flashes on my mind as if it gives me an answer. I… I think I visit them already… but.. something is strange… how? I was always at home… and I never leave… so why do I feels like its been ages since…

“You might want to think about this carefully. You don't want me to get your father involved do you?” That dead man? I scoffed, shaking my head at him. Of course he didn't know. “Just wow, Mr. Archer. By all means, do so. Just don't forget to keep some flowers by his tombstone.” I spat my voice dripping with hate. This man knew just the thing to say to make me resent him a little more. This time I walked away from him. But only two steps before I felt him grab me. “What do you mean by his tombstone?” He asked, his tone shocked and confused. What about the word tombstone did he not understand?

Nathan the sly the crafty one, our esteemed beta. And the flames twisted and contorted into the image of a serene burial ground, with raised mounds of dirts on the ground, tombstones to signify the identity of the buried, families crying over their fallen loved ones, bringing flowers and powering wine all over specific mounds of earth, crying and sobbing and refusing to be consoled. "The battle has been won, but at heartbreaking costs." She finished her chilling story and stared coldly into the fire. The gathering was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop a universe away.