Novel & Cerita It's Been So Long By The Living Tombstone

It gave off a stench so vile it was beyond words. Chunks of dried concrete still clung to me. My exposed skin was blotched with livor mortis, and my face held just enough to hint at who I used to be. Jayden stood frozen, eyes locked on my corpse like someone had hit pause and left him stuck in that moment. "No way… No way…" Jayden muttered, his expression twisting into something unreadable, his voice barely a whisper. Hank gave his shoulder a gentle pat. "What's done is done, Jay. You've got to let it go."

He grabbed his phone and dialed the Brittania Star Name Registry. A voice, detached and impersonal, delivered the blow, "Sorry, the 'Jessica' star has fallen." His heart twisted in agony. "Stars didn't just fall, did they?" Desperate, he shouted, "I'll buy another—no, ten more! All named 'Jessica'!" However, the voice on the line regretfully informed him there were no stars left to name. The call ended as dawn crept across the sky. Barefoot, Anthony wandered the streets, the sharp stones biting into his feet.

It was still dark and very cold, as soon as I got outside I felt the cold wind and I shivered. "Excuse me, I'll get a blanket." We went in and he got a blanket, put it over my body and we went out again. "And you?" I asked. "Cold is one of the things I don't feel." He shrugged. Gods, Julian was so hurt, my heart squeezed just thinking about what had been done to him in twenty years in that asylum. I gave him a hug and we walked towards a large rock, we walked for almost five minutes, it was very close. Next to it there were some pebbles as a way of stairs, we climbed with Julian helping me.

New message. A photo of our cemetery, time-stamped five minutes ago. Fresh dirt disturbed. A shovel in frame. Under it, three words. DIG HIM UP.

Naomi stayed by James' side the entire time, and Celeste also refused to leave. In the blink of an eye, seven days had passed. Yet, James showed no signs of waking up. "Mom, why isn't Dad waking up?" Celeste had been crying the past few days. Her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were red and swollen. Naomi's heart ached for her. She placed a cold towel on Celeste's eyes and said, "He will wake up."

It was cool and sweet. This was the way to live life. Being by myself, with half a watermelon in hand and a show to watch, turned out to be pretty great.

Almost nothing. “Wow. Put that on my tombstone.” I considered it. Maya stops. The air leaves the room in a slow, invisible pull. “You considered it?” Silence. Maya sits forward. The supplies blur for half a second and then sharpen again. Batteries. Beans. Tape. Pen. Every object suddenly too detailed, as if fear has turned the resolution up. “LUS.” No response. “Did you watch me die?” The pause stretches. Then: Yes.

NOAH’S POV The wind was soft this morning. Still, it carried enough chill to make me shiver slightly as I stood alone before the tombstone, my hand resting over the barely-there swell of my belly. The granite slab was cold and firm, just like the truth etched into it: Lucas Leister Big Lu. I let the name sink in like it hadn’t already been burned into my soul. My throat tightened. This was the first time I’d visited since waking up… since everything.

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,

“There are rumors that we’re flirting. It makes this whole thing ten times harder but a hundred times funnier. Especially when one of the smarter students finally connects the dots and realizes we drive the same car.” I smile again, but the silence that follows is loud. We both stand there, staring at her gravestone—just a cold slab of stone now, engraved with her initials and the date she left us. The more we talk, the louder the silence becomes. It’s like the stone mocks us, reminding us that she’s gone. We speak words into the air, not to her ears. But maybe… maybe somewhere, she can hear us. That’s a hope Mason clings to.