Someone Walked Over My Grave Novels & Stories

Those words had become a mantra in my mind and yet I knew I had to leave if I planned on staying alive. My paint space had a balcony, one I usually left open anytime I worked. The distance down was no more than a few feet. I'd definitely survived a fall from that height, so I made my way to the balcony, walked up to the very edge, and then… I stepped over it. * ‘In loving memory of Eloise Taleborn, Luna of the Winter–Hill Pack.’ I stared at the grave stone, bearing my name. Flowers of different shades and colors laid on what was supposed to be my grave. I wondered whose body laid in the coffin—if there was any at all.

I nodded again, and watched my girls walk away from me. I turned back to the lone grave and picked a red Walker from the flower arrangement next to me. Staring at it, I felt nothing. No regret. No sorrow. Just relief. “You hit me for the last time,” I whispered under my breath, as I threw a single red Walker on his grave. “We’re here.” Chance’s voice broke through the bitter memory and my arm was still in his firm grip. I met his eyes, colors of cool moss, something about it calming. Despite this man’s blackmail, he evoked a sense of safety.

I scoff, thinking that death is a fitting punishment for someone as evil as the occupant of this grave. I continue walking, my legs trembling as I approach his grave. I pause when I see fresh flowers, a sign that she must've been here recently. I push the flowers aside and read the words, my heart aching: “HERE LIES JAMES JOHNSON, a friend and a brother.”

I said hoarsely. I didn't particularly appreciate how I felt and wanted to leave the place as soon as possible. But just as we turned to go, I noticed a separate grave. It looked a little bigger than a grave for one person and around it were flowers grown all around it. I felt that strong pull again and walked, void of my volition to the grave. I stood over it and ran my hands over the flowers. Like a lightning shock, I felt a ripple effect course through my fingers from the flowers, and my mind became messed up.

He had always treated me with unconditional kindness, yet I had never returned it equally. Standing before my grave, I finally felt a sense of peace and acceptance. But then, Ryan pushed over my tombstone and began digging into my grave with his transformed claws. What was he doing? Someone needed to stop him! I was furious and anxious. He had never let me rest when I was alive, and even in death, he wouldn't leave me in peace. He should have been the one to give me a home, a safe place to belong. But it was Leo who had given me a tombstone, and now Ryan wanted to destroy even that.

I said to him. I removed my eyes from him and looked at the grave. I clasped my hand, closed my eyes, and then uttered a prayer inside my head. When I was done, I took the umbrella from Mike’s hand and walked back down the pathway we had taken going to the clearing. Gavin followed me and Mike tailed behind him. He said nothing as we walk not to piss me off. He only opened his mouth when we reached the stairway. “I am curious who’s that special one that made you come here and built a grave,” he said as he walked beside me. Our umbrellas were touching each other lightly. “I wanted to know.”

Shovelfuls of dirt landed without drama, just the thump of earth against wood, again and again until the dark rectangle vanished. People started to shuffle off, staff first, then Sofia guiding Maya back to the house. Hilda stayed with Evelyn, the two of them weirdly solid together, not talking. I didn’t move. My feet might as well have been welded to the path. I tried to swallow, but the inside of my throat had gone dry. The grave was just a flat patch of dirt now, a scar that would vanish when the grass grew back.

And this time, when I walked away, I did look back. Just once. The lantern flickered softly beside the grave, like a small, stubborn star in the darkness. And somehow, that felt right.

I approached slowly and let a white rose fall onto her coffin. "Goodbye, sister," I whispered, with a lump in my throat. The gravediggers began to cover the grave with dirt. The sound of the shovels echoed in my head like hammer blows. I felt that every hit was tearing a piece of my soul away. Amelie took my hand and squeezed it. She forced me to take a step back, moving me away from that place. We walked together, under the gaze of some attendees, people I didn't even know.

Jamie's grave deserved more respect than this pathetic display. "This conversation is over," I said, beginning to walk away. But as I took my first step toward the cemetery exit, I felt a sharp, sudden pain at the base of my neck. Then darkness swallowed me whole, and I knew nothing more.