My Sister's Grave Novels & Stories

The grave keeper recalled and said. “Does she look like this?” Chester found a group photo of Sarah and them in his phone. “No.” The grave keeper shook his head. “That girl has big eyes, like… like someone who was of mixed descent. She visits the graves every year. This year, she brought another beautiful woman about her age. She wasn’t here during All Souls’ Day, hence I could recall clearly, but I remember that she got into a fight with a pair of siblings, a brother and sister, during her last visit. Oh, I remember now. This woman was one of the siblings.”

- - Ok, at least finish your coffee. He just turned and left the kitchen. I don’t mind considering it. I will take a road with many obstacles all of them made by Phillp Smith. I am grateful for saving me but it was really cruel to hide from me such a big thing. I mean, it was my sister we were talking about. I must know where her grave is. Phillp must know and that means I will have to see him and soon. That scares me but I have no choice. Although he has no clue why I left, it would be easy for me to talk to him or maybe not?

Even Arlan admitted that her stubbornness was useful when directed toward survival. Suzanne visited Jessica’s grave every Sunday. Sometimes she went alone. Sometimes Daisy came with her. Sometimes Michael joined them, carrying fresh flowers. On one warm afternoon, Suzanne stood beneath the oak tree and placed a small plaque beside the gravestone. It read: Jessica Hawthorne, Beloved sister, and friend. She fought. She endured. She was never forgotten. Suzanne stepped back. Daisy slipped her hand into Jayson’s. Michael stood beside Suzanne. The wind moved gently through the branches, scattering a few leaves across the grass.

The friends stayed back at a respectable distance, tears on their faces as well, though Matt would never admit it, his eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses. They walked towards the grave, a single headstone with both parents name's engraved, Catherine and Mike Matthews, with their birthdays and date and time of death. At the bottom was another inscription which read "Loving and devoted parents of Sarah, Dannica, Elizabeth, Emma, and Michael Jr." The siblings all gathered around the grave as Sarah moved forwards again, laying down another wreath.

A single tear slips from my eye, as I remember back to all the sacrifices, she had made so that I could be here today. A cry now comes from the back of the graveyard, and I look to see Lyra on her knees in front of a stone, and my eyes instantly move to see the name on it, Josey, the name of her sister, that she had told me all those years ago about, was etched into the manmade headstone. Tristan now kneeled beside her wrapping his arms around her, comforting her, as she was finally able not to just grieve the loss of her sister, but to solidify her connection to us, even though we already accepted each other as family.

I often came here to organise my thoughts, for some reason being around deceased ones eased my mind. My fingers brushed the letters of her name engraved on the stone, Lucia Vitalio; my mother's name, "Mom, today I got to know I have an elder sister. I don't know if she is still alive or not but I promise I'll find her," My throat choking with each word rolling out of my tongue. "I'll go find her if she is out there waiting for me. Her younger sister to come," It was so long since I visited her.

She softly says. I sigh. “It’s okay.” I say with a small smile. “Just don’t let that happen again.” >>> When we get back home, I go upstairs to my room, leaving Halsey to my mom. My phone starts vibrating. Dean: I’m sorry about your sister. Me: Why are you talking to me? It’s not like she’s dead. Dean: It seems like you’re always pushing me away, even when I try to help. Me: Maybe because I don’t need your help.

But it turned out that the one person who should have been on her side was against her. The cemetery looked peaceful when we arrived. Rain dripped softly from tall trees while workers quietly cleaned nearby graves. We all walked together through rows of headstones until Mommy finally stopped. It was the grave site of her stepmother. She nodded at me. I walked over and dropped the flower. Then next was Rachel. We didn’t walk far and were at her headstone. Rachel Jones. Beloved Sister. Beloved Aunt. As we stood there, I tried to imagine her smiling. I hoped she was in a good place. Mum said she chose to remember her as her sister regardless.

Lester comes to a screeching halt before some gravestones. There lies the tomb of my family members. Agia Pierce, my little sister. Grace Pierce, my mother. Anselm Pierce, my younger brother. Then there’s Enzo Pierce, my uncle. My brows furrow when I figure out there are two graves missing. My father’s grave and that of my cousin brother whom I’m never at peace with, Marcel Pierce. Sharply, I turn to Lester who gasps at my expression. “Two graves are missing. My father’s and my cousins brother's.” I rasp, the veins popping out on my temple.

As though her hold was a stabilizer, he felt his whole body calm. She was here; he was going to be okay. Kate eyes fell on the three gravestones with names carved in gold; the gravestones looked very new like they were tended to on a regular basis. Her eyes read the names on the gravestones and her heart squeezed painfully; why would one be so heartless as to end an entire family because of greed? Why? Her gaze fell on his sister's little gravestone and her eyes clouded with tears; she was five years she was only' five! Why should her life end so early? What did she do to deserve such pain?