Romans & histoires My Sister's Grave

Whenever I thought of the scene of my sister's death, my heart ached so much that I couldn't breathe. I still remember the story that followed. I buried my sister and Kassidy on Gravesend Hill. I sought a high monk to perform the last rites for them, and the monk asked me, "How would you like me to guide their souls, benefactor?" I asked the monk what methods of salvation there were. After thinking for a moment, the monk told me, "I can guide her across the Naihe Bridge and let her be reincarnated. However, her grudges are too deep, so even in the next life, she will not have a peaceful end."

Since then it's like I've been on autopilot. Feed the baby. Call Sarah's employer. Burp the baby. Meet with the funeral home. Change the baby. Bury my sister. I stare at the casket in front of me. Sarah lies inside of it. I can't believe I'm burying my baby sister. Genevieve, my best friend and coworker, sits next to me, holding the baby. She keeps trying to quiet his cries while the preacher drones on about the sanctity of life and the need to treat every day as if it's your last.

Birds sang in the trees. David Chen's grave was still in the back corner. Still small. Still plain. Anna knelt down. Touched the stone. "Hello, David," she said. "I am Anna. I am Ellie's sister. Not by blood. By choice." I knelt next to her. "Anna came to see you," I said. "She wanted to pay her respects." Anna pulled a small stone from her pocket. Smooth. Grey. She placed it on top of the grave.

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?

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?

Author’s POV Past continues... Twelve years old Chase was sitting on his knees in front of a grave with tears flowing non stop from his eyes. The name on the grave read Valerie, his sister. The fact that he won’t be able to see his sister ever again was ripping his heart in millions of pieces. The only person he loved with his whole heart after his mother passed away was gone now and he wasn’t even there in her last moment. The poor kid was sobbing uncontrollably in front of his sister’s grave.

What was it with black all the damn time? I located my sister’s grave from the other side of the cemetery and walked closer. Taking the red roses and the bar of chocolate I had gotten earlier, I placed them gently on the grave. Daniel stood at a distance, watching too keenly. Why did he insist on coming? I hated showing vulnerability in front of people, and Lilian was one of the people who brought out my vulnerable side. I knelt beside the grave and traced the name on it. My fingers trembled slightly as I touched the cold marble, the air around me heavy and still.

Her sister had died, and she was the one who was expected to go identify her body when word got to her. Her sister's funeral was paid for by her. I couldn't bear it any longer and went to the funeral. It was filled with her sister’s friends, drunkards and addicts. People sniffing drugs and drinking booze directly in front of her grave made the burial a nightmare show. It wasn't like there were a lot of them; there were probably around twenty of them, and half of them didn't even make it to the conclusion of the burial. They arrived because a buddy of theirs who was selling drugs was going to be there, and they didn't even know her sister's name. I sat there, watching the horror I had inflict

Instead, I stand up and walk away. I go back to the cemetery but the service is over. It's just people filling in the grave. I sit there and watch them work. Each thud makes me dizzy. It's like all the memories of my sister hits me at once. Her birth right up to the last time I saw her. I desperately want to pass out. I need to leave here, escape this fucking place or this reality. I sit there for hours till they're done and the headstone has been put.