Someone Walked Over My Grave Novels & Stories

"Get the fuck off of me or I'll scream." "Swearing in church? Really?” okay he made me mad. I pushed him and walked out. I found people already going outside. I had to run in heels so I can keep up with Ed. But I found him waiting for me. We walked to the graveyard. Everyone was mourning but I almost committed a sin. “Sorry for your trouble.” People walked over to us and patted Ed. He just gave a wan smile. And nodded. After The Burial, At the mansion.

But the man wasn't saying a word and that was making the frustration boil inside of me. I'd simply crossed almost half of the world for answers, and somehow, here I am, standing between multiple old graveyards. Finally, the man walked forward, moving towards a specific grave in the far end of this place while I followed in total silence. When he stopped, I noticed something about it…this didn't look like the ones we'd walked past and moved towards here. There was no proper name on it like the others, but a symbol rested on it… one that looked really familiar, but at this point I couldn't bring myself to point out why it looked totally familiar.

I paused to look at her, how can someone be this thoughtful? “Thank you, Elizabeth.” I say and walked into the cemetery. Weirdly enough, it was exactly like it was last year. Did people not die? I heaved deeply as I approached mom’s grave, I felt my throat tighten up as I sighted it. It’s been another year. I paused slightly on seeing a person stand in front of the grave, walking closer to see who it was. A wave of anger filled me up as I stared at the scene unfolding right in my eyes.

At a party hosted at our house, my husband sang a soul-stirring rendition of “Missing You Tonight". He poured his heart into it, his eyes misty and his voice raspy with emotion. I secretly recorded a video and posted it online. To my surprise, the video blew up. Hundreds of thousands of likes poured in, with the comment section overflowing with sympathy. Laughing, I handed my phone to my husband. “Jacob, you went viral.” The top-voted comment read: [Girl, I’m not one to stir up drama, but your husband looks like he’s nursing a broken heart.] I thought he’d just laugh it off with a half-hearted smile. Instead, he took the phone and looked me straight in the eye with dead seriousness. “Yo

Then, with the same quiet authority he always carried, he tapped my shoulder once before moving forward. He walked to my mom’s grave. Slow, calm, majestic. Each step was deliberate, and every eye followed him. He bent just slightly, placed his flower on the grave, and straightened, his tall figure commanding the entire space. Without saying a word, he turned and walked back toward the hall. I stood rooted, the handkerchief pressed against my chest. My tears hadn’t stopped, but something warm had spread in me, something I couldn’t understand. My cheeks burned, a slight blush rising, and it was impossible to hide.

I wondered. Fresh red soil mounded unevenly along the rim. Nearby rested the gravedigger’s tools, his hoe, then the shovel, left behind like a pause mid-task. I jerked back until my foot tripped over a small gravestone. “For me?! What do you mean?!”

He shrugged and left the argument, and I walked ahead of him to the people that were gathered in front of Enzo's graveyard. There weren't a lot of people, but the people there were mostly important associates. Most of them were people I knew, and the rest were people that knew me. I ignored their stares and whispers as I walked towards the front where his coffin had been lowered, and I paused in front of the grave, trying to pick up a flower from the bunch, when his son approached me. "Didn't I make myself clear the last time? I don't want you here!" I smiled and faced him, my hand picking up the flower I had intended to pick, and I patted his chest gently after stepping closer to him. "I'm

Our family's prayer hall was strictly guys-only, but I was the only lady for miles who could waltz into any family's sacred space. All thanks to my lucky streak and my knack for doing the right thing. Out of nowhere, a few sighs, clear as crystal, filled with woe and agony, reached my ears. I could not help but follow the sound. Just like that, I found myself at a grave not too far off. The person had been gone for a long while, the ground around it was old, but it showed signs of recent digging. The source of the sighs was coming from down there.

His suit was sharp, his tie black, and his eyes. They were on me. He was here. But I did not wave. I did not recognize him. I did not stir. I simply turned away. Lily gently took my arm as the coffin was being lowered. I watched the ropes tighten and release. Watched the black hole swallow the last shard of my reality. There were quiet whispers of prayers. There were people crying out loud. A shovel penetrated the ground. I didn't stay. I walked. I walked away from the noise, away from the pity, the sympathetic glances, the polite mourning. I walked until my feet hurt. Until the cemetery was gone behind rows of trees and narrow streets.

I tugged on his shirt, pulling him out like a three-year-old kid. After some extra persuasion, he got out and walked with me to where the person was buried. The name Sean Marcus was carved on the gravestone placed on the grave. I stared at the name intensely; it was trying to ring a bell, but I couldn't pinpoint it exactly. I felt a slight headache, which made me zap out from my thoughts.