The Foray

The Foray (Revisited)

It was as if the monsoon was capricious.

One minute the rain was dulcet, enough for an ant to roam around peacefully. But now, it seemed to experience catharsis and had carte blanche to do so.
The wipers of my car frisked anxiously, as I drove to the cemetery.

I'd become a habitue of the place, but that was only because I'd been given the Hobson's Choice- do what I say or nothing.

Apparently every night, I was to intrepidly go to the cemetery and watch as a man left a clue in a grave. He would leave clues as to who killed my mother. I inimically slammed the accelerator, cursing the interminable road.
Or maybe it was because today was the last day of my ominous goose chase.

As I parked near the cemetery, I saw a black hooded figure keep something in a grave. I rushed over, ignoring the lour sky as it grumbled and enveloped me in cold rain drops.

I was surprised to see that the grave was empty.

I had dug it everyday to remove the clues, but today I didn't have have to disinter it for the clue. "E" said the paper. I gathered the other papers with letters.

C.H.A.S.E.

I gasped.

Chase was our suspicious looking neighbor. Was. He died three years ago, when a robber stole his precious belongings and slit his throat.

Why would he confess though? How would he?

Anger boiled in within me but before I could react, a bony hand held my shoulders and an all too familiar voice spoke.
"Karma has it's way" he said. I didn't dare turn around, I knew who it was all too well.

"Wh- what do you mean? What did I ever do to you?"

There was a deathly pause, where I heard my own breath but not his.

"You killed me, Eric. How could you not remember?"

The world spiralled around me. What was he saying? How could that be? I remembered nothing of it- absolutely nothing.

"I don't remember anything! I didn't do it, Chase. You must be-"

"Delusional? I think not. How could I forget the last face I saw? It was you, Eric."

When I didn't speak, he continued, his finger bones clamping harder into both my shoulders. I stared at the dirt trying to remember something, anything.

"I remember your pale face, and your blank look, Eric. Do you not remember my screams, or how you ignored them like they had never been said?
I will not forget the blank look on your face, like you didn't care about what was happening. As if you didn't realise what you were doing...how could you?" His voice evolved into a hiss.

"As if I didn't realise.." I slowly repeated. Could it be possible?

"Chase," I tentatively started. When he grunted back, I said,
"I wasn't conscious. My subconscious was acting, Chase. I wasn't in control."

"So you wanted this." He declared. I wanted to scream and deny it, but the words didn't form. I couldn't think of anything to deny it.

Had my thoughts been building up day by day, every small action of his that I hated being stored in my head? Did I hate him so much, that I did this without even realising?
Is this what I had finally wanted?

"I'm sorry, Chase. I didn't realise."

I knew my time was up, right as the words left my mouth. But I didn't complain.

"Tell me who killed my mother, Chase. Did you?" I pleaded, the energy leaving my body. I just wanted a final answer. I felt his bones slacken a bit, and my heart lurched.
Chase had killed my mother?

"Do you not remember anything, Eric?" His voice sounded almost disgusted.

"Chase, how could you-"

"You killed your mother, Eric. I saw you do it."

A sudden flash filled my eyes, and my heart slowed down just as drastically as it had sped up.
What had I done?
What had I become?
What was wrong with me?

"You saw me, Eric. And I'd seen you do it. That's why you wanted me dead, is what I would presume.."

I put my arms on my own throat, as it began feeling drier by the minute. I couldn't have..

"It doesn't work this way." Eric growled. "IT DOES NOT WORK THIS WAY. KARMA IS A-"

But I didn't hear his last curse. Chase pushed me into the grave, but not before I read the name on the stone.

Eric Conners.

I shut my eyes as I interpreted the situation, and fell deep below. I had dug my own grave every night. The last thing I felt was the icy rain, which had given me a foreboding premonition.

I had listened, but I hadn't really heard it.