Novel & Cerita My Sister's Grave

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.

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.

He could still sense her remnants. I made my way deeper into the yard of the dead until I finally came upon her gravestone. Promise Leonhart. 2001-2024. Sister, daughter, and friend. The corners of my lips lift into a sad smile. “Hey there,” I croak out as I place the bouquet on her gravestone. I sit at the foot of it, on the bare grass, with my legs crossed. For a moment there was silence; there wasn’t a sound to be heard other than the soft whistles of the wind.

By the way it softens as he smooths the dirt away, I can tell that this is the burial spot of someone important to him. "My sister. She died when I was seventeen. She was ten,” he mumbles, not looking up. I close my eyes. Oh. "I'm sorry,” I murmur. He draws in a shuddering breath. My heart aches for him, and even though I’m not sure I like him, seeing someone experience loss elicits sadness within me too. "She died of a common sickness at the time. We buried her here because the sunset is stunning over this meadow that she used to play in often. It brings me peace to think about her still running through the flowers, free as she should be,” he explains, looking up.

God, why was I giving the wrong address aklr these days. Walking over to the graveyard, my heart raced, my steps slowing down as I spotted her gravestone. *Dianne Alicia Reynolds* Something tightened yo my throat as I moved closer. When I got there, I knelt next to her, my hands running over her name in the stone. “Dianne, sorry you have a bitch assed sister. I didn't bring flowers.” Sniffing, I tried to smile as I dust off dried up flowers, scattered all around the stone. “Took me long enough. But I still came here anyway.”

And yet, this was all she had now, a grave, her grave. At last, they stopped. Her sister’s headstone stood beneath a tall oak tree, surrounded by short trimmed grass and wildflowers that had grown along the edges. The headstone was simple and modest, it bore just a name and two dates. But Orlanda had read those letters so many times in her dreams, it felt surreal to see them carved in real stone. Sophia Lawn. Beloved Daughter. Cherished Sister. Gone, but never forgotten. A gust of wind brushed against her skin as she knelt slowly in front of the stone, her lips trembling as she held the lilies to her chest for a moment… then placed them gently at the base of the grave.

"The woman is terrifyingly effective at making me examine my behavior and admit when I'm wrong." "I like her already," I said. We walked back through the grove together, my arm still around my mother's shoulders to help support her as she recovered. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the cemetery. Behind us, Xena's grave stood peaceful and quiet. A marker for a life lost too soon, but also a reminder of what we'd survived and what we were still fighting for. My sister was gone. Nothing would change that. But we were still here. Still breathing. Still trying to build something good from the wreckage of our grief.

Sure pays off that I went out of my way to learn knife throwing. I lay weakly on the stretcher, refusing to let go of Nicky's hand. She had been so lovely and kind, always thinking of others. She was the Preston family's little ray of sunshine. And yet, she had been murdered by her most beloved brother. Drake stared coldly at Scott, who was sprawled on the ground. Blood seeped from the corner of Drake's mouth where he had bitten down. "You said Nicky went to Happyland with Yvette today, is that right?"

With the help of the maids, I wore my clothes and decided to go for a walk, visitingu sister's grave in the process. With a bouquet of flowers in hand and two guards walking closely behind me, I made my way to my sister's grave, cleaning off the dirt that had settled on it before placing the bouquet of flowers on it and seating beside her. Though, I missed her terribly, I know she is happy where she is and is looking down on me with so much love. I also would try to be happy here as well.