Masked Evil

My grave yard experience

Sometimes in life in order for you to go forward, you have to go backward. And that's why I'm here. Standing here for a while has completely numbed my legs. My eyes are beginning to become teary due to the cold winds blowing in my face. My brown jacket has now been speckled with white due to the snow storm happening not too far from Boston, yet it seems like every single speck of snow has missed the grave entirely.

The ground is covered in snow, and the grave yard echoes with a never ending silence of death. The graves come in all shape and sizes, although the one I am looking at is different. At first glance, most of the graves are normal, the only differences being the names engraved on them. This one however, had a fresh flower on it every day, along with a carving of the person's face.

The grave is labeled Johnson, Tyler. He was one of my dearest friends. He had a life ahead of him, unlike myself. He had so many wonderful dreams, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him.

Tyler was one of my dearest friends, but later on in the years I was becoming unsure if I was a great friend to him. Sure we had our differences, but in the end I was always there for him. We always talked when he was around, but we began to talk for less and less.

That's it, I thought. I could barely stand there in the cold with only a jacket and ratchet pair of jeans. I started to walk away from the grave, but I had to give it one last look. Upon my final glance at the grave for the day, the memories started coming back into my mind. It was rushing like a flood from a broken dam. I had to walk away, or else the memories would overcome me.

I started walking down the streets in the snow. I wasn't walking anywhere in particular. I needn't be home until 6. The grave yard was set on the edge of town, near an apartment complex. On the other side were plain woods, and a road where no one ever seems to know where it leads.

I slowly came to a stop at the apartment complex. I look around to see if anyone could see me. All clear, I thought. I took a seat on the last step on the complex. I placed my hands over my eyes and began to cry. The memories were too much for me. I needed to let loose. So I did. I let the memories flow free.

3 months earlier

"Do you have to move?" I asked Tyler as he continued packing his clothes in his backpack. The weather outside was a disaster. The rain storm hadn't stopped for days. I turned around from looking out the window to look at Tyler.

Tyler was about my height, landing around 5'6. He came from Asian heritage, but never remembered his parents due to them putting him up for adoption at a young age. He had short black hair with uneven edges and dark brown eyes. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but his athletic skills where amazing. His body was built for swimming.

"Yes, I do. My step dad was arrested for DUI and I'm up for child care. Again. But don't worry, I'll promise to keep in touch" responded Tyler as he finished packing the rest of his belongings from his dads house.

His step dad, more like his foster parent, only adopted Tyler due to an organization that pays foster parents a monthly fee. His step dad didn't have a job, and he and Tyler souly lived on the 500$ fee they received at the end of each week. And it didn't help that his dad was an alcoholic. Tyler tried to live a normal life, but it was difficult.

He was the only other kid in my neighborhood, and we both went to the same school. The school, the supreme talents for language arts, holds multiple grade levels from k-8. We became friends in kinder when I saw how an incredible artist he was. He was learning Japanese, and I was learning French.

Every day after school I would visit his house and we would chat until 5:35, which what laid on that magical number, was a force that made me leave his wonderful company. That force was my step mother.

A little information on me, at a young age my mother died in a plane crash. My dad, who had not wanted a child, stole the heart of a drug dealer then broke it and ran away, leaving me behind. She didn't care what I did in life, just as long as I was out of her way during business hours, I never tried her products, and that I was back before dinner at 6. The three rules were easily followed, due to the fact that I was grateful for shelter and food. Also I had no interest in her "products".

Tyler and I walked out to his living room and through the front door. He lived at the edge of the neighborhood. Very few houses were placed there. The road lead off for about another block to the left where the rest of the neighborhood meet up with it and to the right was a curb, leading off to an interception and the freeway. There was a bright yellow taxi in his drive way with the driver holding the umbrella out for Tyler and I. Tyler tossed his backpack into the trunk of the car and slammed down the trunk. He turned around and looked at me.

"Hey, Jay, don't worry. I'll be out of that place in no time. Before you know it, I'll have already ditched that foster parent and I'll be back here playing the return of gallargoths at your place. At most it'll be a week. Promise not to get into those products your mom sells?"

"As long as you promise to be back before the weekend," I replied.

"No promises," he said as he started to conclude the conversation.

"Like always," I said. That was it. I said nothing less important to him before his unpredicted death.

He entered the yellow cab and with a push of the door sealed his trip to the orphanage. There he would be most likely questioned about his life with his step father.

I stood outside in the rain, without an umbrella. It didn't bother me, since my entire brown coat was now completely soaked. My final sights of him were the taxi pulling out of the drive way and starting their short way drive toward down town.

I stood there still waving at the cab even though the cab wasn't waving at me. But then the cab started speeding up. And up. And up. And up. It shouldn't be doing that, I thought to myself.

"STOP!" I shouted, even though I knew it was no use. All I could do was watch. The taxi swirled around the curb at a constant speed of around 80 mph, to my best guess. As it turned the car turned over on its side.

I stopped watching and ran toward the car. The door on the cab that wasn't flipped on to the ground opened up. I then saw Tyler slowly climbing out of the cab. He turned to find me in the rain, and caught a glimpse of me running towards him.

"Get help," he shouted at me, but I kept on running towards the cab. The next thing I knew, the rain stopped for all of 5 Seconds. And it started to heat up, really fast.

What came next were all fuzzy memories. I remember being unwillingly pushed down to the ground by an incredibly powerful force, feeling intense heat rush at me, and it started to rain again. From then on I was unconscious. I woke up in the emergency room with the people yelling, "clear". I then blacked out again.

I then woke up to find a pair of breathing tubes attached to my nose. Later on that day I was told that the driver had a heart attack, and the gas tank was leaking. With the sparks coming off the cab when it fell down, it hit the gas which caused an explosion. Due to the distance I was away from the car, I survived. Tyler, on the other hand, did not survive.

My step mother came by later on that day to pick me up. The ride back home was silent. We held the funeral a few days later, but only me and a few of his friends showed up. His step dad was still in jail.

Present

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't visit his grave. I look up from crying and wiped my tears away. The snow has now substantially stopped. I look around and see the sun start to set. It's time to go home now, I think to myself. I stand up and start walking home.

As I walk in my neighborhood, I walked past his house. I didn't bother to look at it. Every time I do I could still hear the cab, the swirl, the explosion. I walk a few more blocks to my house. When I finally reached it I look at the door. Something was oddly different. There was a slight foot mark on the middle of door. This was unusual, due to the fact that I walk to that door every day and I never noticed it until today. Plus, the door was slightly opened.

" authors note; I would appreciate if someone left a comment asking for more. I just want to know my work is wanted"