I've Dug Two Graves For Us Novels & Stories

"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."

Valerie asked as I went into the den and searched through a cabinet. “We should bury the bodies.” “Not on your turf, I hope.” I shook my head, pulling out a khaki tent shell and rope from the cupboard. I went downstairs to get a spade, and when Valerie followed me, I picked up another one. “You know how to dig a hole?”

We ate breakfast together, our hair once bright and vibrant, now slowly turning gray. When we die, we want to be buried beside each other. Perhaps, in that dark place, we will still be able to look at each other and talk...

We, the living, should be moving forward together. I wanted to take her home, to start over. However, it was too late. Cora was already gone. We had avenged our mother, but we had done so at the cost of severing the last bond between us. I bought two plots beside our mother's grave—one for Cora, one for me. We would be together even after death. … It was April in the southern city. Sunlight spilled across the cemetery, quiet and undisturbed. I sat before Cora's grave, raised a can of beer, and clinked it gently against the headstone.

“Mom, Daddy—don’t forget about me! I’m your biggest reason to smile, remember?” Their laughter broke through the heaviness that had hung over them, gentle and full of life. And in that serene silence between the graves, they found something precious—renewed strength to keep moving forward. After everything they’d endured, what else was there left to fear?

"We need to bury him." There was a moment of stunned silence before everyone sprang into action, gathering supplies and digging a grave. As we lowered Adrian into the ground, I felt a sense of closure, but also a deep sorrow for the loss of someone so young and full of promise. "Rest in peace, Adrian," I whispered, as we said our final goodbyes.

I knelt before the graves and dropped the flowers on the ground, my fingers tracing the letters carved into the cold, unforgiving stone, my fingers trembling with emotion. "Mum... Dad..." my voice trembled, choked with tears as I struggled to find the words to express the anguish that consumed me. "Mum...Dad…" I whispered, my voice barely more than a broken sob. "I miss you so much." The silence that greeted me was deafening, broken only by the soft rustle of the leaves and the mournful howl of the wind.

Half-buried in weeds. I turned, walked back to the car, and popped the trunk. A sledgehammer sat inside. Gift from a renovation company. Ribbon still tied on. Bright. Almost a joke. I grabbed it, walked back, and stopped in front of the headstone. Taking a breath, I tightened my grip around the cold metal. Then I swung. All in. Smashed it down. Crash. The sound ripped through the empty grounds. Bang. Again. And again. Until it was nothing but broken rubble.

ELENA The grinding roar of the excavation machines had already begun; the final, awful soundtrack to the moment I’d been dreading. I stood there, stiff, trembling, watching the workers prepare to dig up my daughter’s grave. My daughter. God, even thinking the word felt like dragging barbed wire through my chest.

Now their parent was dead. The next day I wake up early and begin to dig two graves near the top of the hill. Before the children and Ivy join me, I’ve already buried Tiffany and covered her body. I don’t want them to see her. I’ve dug the grave on the far side, away from Nicole’s final resting place. I mark it with a large stone in case anyone will every want to find it here.