Selena Grave Novels & Stories

A family curse. Selena was the granddaughter of a fruit picker in Mexico, the daughter of a sweatshop worker in L.A., the sister of a cleaning woman, the niece of a housewife. When she was growing up, the Perez clan had never had health insurance… so the family hadn't known that a genetic anomaly called the BRCA1 gene was slowly but surely killing off its women on her mother’s side before the age of forty.

Selena’s fingers tightened around her glass. “Poor Tatiana, the bitch hasn’t visited your grave even once.” Isabel sighed dramatically. Selena lowered her glass, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “I have nothing more important than my family,” she said coolly. “Taking care of my husband and my daughter is my priority. Not the dead.” “Are you sure your daughter has your attention,” her voice cut low, “or your jealousy? Since… she’s not his...” Selena’s body trembled almost imperceptibly. Her hand tightened around the stem of her glass, knuckles whitening. Her eyes flashed, and for a split second, the mask slipped—pure, unfiltered rage glittered behind her irises.

Selena's POV “Have we met before?” Kael’s hand remained wrapped around my wrist as the question hung heavily between us. My pulse became uneven, and I almost forgot how to breathe. Did he recognise who I was? No! That can't be possible. Selena Vale was pushed down from the moon cliff under his watch, and no one can ever survive the fall. Kael kept staring at me with growing intensity, his silver eyes darkening as if something deep inside him recognised me even when his mind refused to.

Pack members came to offer condolences, leaving tokens and gifts, though each gesture felt like a reminder of Serena’s absence rather than a balm to their grief. Serena’s sisters, **Elara** and **Maeve**, were inconsolable. Elara, always fiery and bold, struggled to contain her anger and took to the training grounds pushing herself to exhaustion as if she could channel her pain into strength. Her eyes constantly scanned the horizon, waiting for any sign of her sister’s return. Maeve, quieter and gentler, retreated into herself, her eyes dull with sorrow withdrew entirely, a shadow of her former self, her bright laughter replaced by a haunting silence. The loss of her older sister took a toll

Weeks have gone by–3 weeks and 2 days to be precise. Nothing has changed much for the 3 of them. Selena didn’t attend her graduation. She took the certificate from Dean Pete and continued working at Wildlife Research Centre. Her mood doesn’t seem to have changed much. Every day, she will go to work, come back home, eat and sleep–living a robotic life despite her friend's effort to cheer her up. The career that she loved once doesn’t give her joy anymore. It seems like the moment Grandpa Kai asked her the promise, her life fell apart and a dark curse engulfed her.

She was dead. Thalia spent a full day and night handling all the funeral details. Using Landon’s card, she bought Selena a burial plot that cost about 12 thousand dollars. Selena's name was carved on the headstone, plain and simple. That day, the cemetery was quiet, blanketed in snow. Thalia bent down, placed the urn inside, and watched the staff close the lid and seal the grave. She laid a bouquet of white lilies at the headstone. The photo on the stone showed Selena in her prime, while she still had black hair, red lips, and a soft, radiant smile.

“Selena.” The woman slowly walked down the stairs. Each step graceful. Confident. She stopped in front of Elara and examined her openly. “Hmm.” Elara shifted slightly under the intense stare. “And you are?” Elara asked politely. The woman smiled. But it wasn’t a friendly smile. “I’m Selena Blackwood.” Elara’s stomach dropped. Adrian’s sister. Selena tilted her head slightly. “You’re prettier than I expected.” “Thank you,” Elara said carefully.

I liked it but it seemed to be bringing Selena close to her past and demons. After checking through the houses in marvel, my lady had picked one of them and as soon as Hailey clapped her hands together giggling, it was enough confirmation for me. We headed to my second or fourth schedule of the day, which was to visit Selena’s grandmother’s grave. She had mentioned how she longed to see it and couldn’t wait to talk to her grandmother again. It was cleaned up and a blanket as well as her and her grandmother’s favorite drink were there. I recalled when she talked about times, they would sit together and just open a can of Zus. The name of the drink seemed so funny to me, but it was popular aro

the crew's shoulders shook harder, he couldn't continue his stammered sentences, his tears flowed down his forehead touching the tomb's foundation, he prostrated on the tomb he loved so much. Safira bit her lip, something throbbed in her heart, it hurt and was tight, but she couldn't figure out why. Was it due to her early pregnancy? Maybe, but she couldn't take her gaze away from the gravestone, which bore Selena's name, date of birth, and date of death. "She died a long time ago, it's been twenty years..." Safira's voice was muffled and only she could hear it; her thick saliva caused her palate and tongue to stick together; she felt a burden, sadness, and pain that she couldn't explain.

Microphones were pointed their way as they walked towards their seat with Craig and Mathew guarding them. Once the noise had died down and everyone was seated, Selena felt nervous as she stared at all the eyes that were focused on her. Then she felt Gabriel holding onto her hand and she knew that she was going to be okay. “Hello, everyone. I am Selena Balkan, wife to Gabriel Balkan, granddaughter to Atlas Dila, and the daughter of Iris Adler and Joe Hendrix.” Selena said. The room became noisy with questions as shock took over the expressions of the reporters.