Don't Weep At My Tombstone Novels & Stories

Aggressive gusts of wind rip through the air, the leaves flapping furiously as they silently cried in grief. A blanket of marble tombstones stood erect, lined up perfectly like soldiers. We stopped in front of Maeve’s tombstone, which seemed to be worshipped by climbers and fallen twigs. It had been a while since we came to visit her. Ever since Maeve passed away because of causes he never told me about, we would always come to visit her at least once a year and whenever I wanted to visit my parents, he would accompany me without question. “You must be upset with me.” he picked up the fallen twigs and kept them away from her tombstone. “I haven’t come to see you in a while.”

Dust. Beside me, Leila wails, her cries rising with each heartbeat. Kayla and Lia hold her tightly, trying to soothe her, but I can’t join them. I need comfort too, but there’s nowhere to find it. My hands tremble as they clutch the edge of the folded program, my chest heavy with grief that refuses to ease. I swallow hard, forcing myself to stand tall, but the emptiness presses in from every side. All I can do is stare at the gravestone, whisper a quiet apology, and wish—wishing with every fiber of me—that I could turn back time.

Doing what I know how to do most inside the garden of life, I heard the trumpet sound, “why could the supreme one be calling us now ” I asked myself rhetorically bringing out my white feathers from my back , walking to the magnificent hall from the garden of life is not far but I am just too lazy to walk, I prefer flying than walking, I’m always awed when I look down to earth and see the little ones walking, ” don’t they get tired of it ” I’ll always ask myself with a feeling of sympathy for them.

ADAIRA ~ She took me to the outskirts of the pack, one of the official burial sites and I immediately knew where they had been laid because the soil around that part looked freshly disturbed. There were two tombstones made of stones and flowers on the grave. Shifters didn’t usually mark the tombstones with names like humans did, neither was the tombstone carved by hand or any tool. It was just stone in its uncut, untouched form made to form a small wall. The reason there were no markers even if everyone knew where their own loved one was buried was because we saw ourselves as one big family. So if you mourn for one, you mourn for all. Writing individual names would create a sense of division

I said and we all left the car. We quietly walked to the grave and put down our bouquets of flowers. Mr and Mrs. Young left after that and I looked at the tombstone in front me. Seeing his name on the black marble made the situation even more real. Nathan Young was really gone. The only words in my head were apologies, but knowing Nathan, he wouldn't accept them. I sighed, failing to brainstorm proper words. "I'll give you some time," Henry said before giving my arm a gentle squeeze and walking away.

And maybe he’d find a way to forgive me, although I know it’s hard for him to do that I just hope he does. Walking past rows upon rows of gravestones, a profound sense of emptiness washed over me. It's truly disheartening to think about how many lives were lost and the fragility of life itself. It's a reminder to cherish every moment and appreciate the people we have in our lives, I wish I remembered that before Jacob passed away.

For me, it’s frozen, and days become emptier. As the gestures fade, the pain grows, the thoughts get louder, and the tears become lonelier. And the waves of misery hit me as though a wall of concrete is falling on top of me. I feel like the fossils being searched for, stuck in a moment and defined by it. Eric loved it when I brought stones home from excavations. He’d show his friends at school and make up all sorts of stories about them. I’ll find a special stone here and take it back to London to put on his grave.

I'm not sure how long ago it was when I first saw him, staring down at the oldest, crumbling gravestone in his black hooded cloak. He has completely captured my attention; I want to know more about the mysterious man behind all that darkness. Is he grieving like me? Maybe. It's the reason I've been coming to this God-forsaken cemetery over the last five months since Zack died. He was my best friend and he died saving someone else's life. A firefighter's duty, I'm supposed to believe. Everyone still tries to comfort me by saying he died doing what he loved but they don't understand. I no longer have my big brother to protect me, especially from myself.

She was staying strong, even with so much sadness within her. "I'll ask the Alpha to plant flowers in this place. It will be beautiful and decorated, and I'll ask them to name it Julie's garden so that she won't be forgotten..." I smiled weakly, wiping away the tears that streamed down my face. Slowly, I placed a handful of dirt over the small tombstone. It was a simple but meaningful gesture. I was saying goodbye to a friend and leaving the bitterness behind. I chose to honor the happy memories rather than be consumed by the betrayal.

"Do you bother to be alone for a few minutes?” "No, feel free," I say. Nicholas nods again and turns to pass through a very narrow row of tombs. He kneels on the ground a few meters away. We can still see it from where we are, since there are no real tombstones separating us. It is so uncomfortable to know that every day the number of strangers buried without the family at least knowing this increases absurdly, that I feel nauseous. Not only immigrants, but everyone who does not care about the government comes to end up in this place.