why the hell am i even here, he thought.
the scent of rain dew fulfilled his nostrils, as he tried to walk through the creepy, cavernous and foggy cemetery.
cemeteries weren't particularly his scene, especially at that time of the day. he actually hated cemeteries with a fervent passion. just this time he felt the need to be here.
he sighed, finding the grave he was looking for and suddenly wishing it wasn't there. wishing that that name wasn't engraved onto the tombstone. but it's over now, he can't do anything about it anymore.
he sat down, facing the grave and thinking of something to say. even though no one was there, he thought that maybe what those people do in the movies could make him feel better. maybe sitting and talking to a charcoal-colored tombstone would make him feel like he'd given himself some sort of closure.
"what the fuck." he groaned, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and pulling one out- lighting it. he took in a long drag, feeling that maybe if he did that long enough his lungs would burn and he'd have a place in the cemetery of his own. with his name engraved on a tombstone, of his own.
"this is all my fault, jack." he said lowly, dipping his head down. his index finger twitches as he holds the lighten cigarette between his fingers, allowing for the smoke to fade off into the air.
he ran his fingers through his hair, not caring about how it looked. he hasn't even been himself ever since the incident. and frankly, he doesn't even think he ever will be.
"you don't deserve to be here." he took another drag, then made his lips form into an 'o' shape and blew it out. watching the grey smoke blend in with the dewy fog. "i do."
he sat there in silence, finishing the rest of his cigarette in a short amount of time. he flicked it away, using the dirt as an ash tray. he knew that it was wrong, but he didn't even care. he doesn't care about anything anymore.
it didn't take long for him to feel as if he were hallucinating when he began to hear what sounded like the strumming of a guitar playing faintly. he furrowed his brows, and got up. trying to get closer to whoever was making the noise at one in the morning. perhaps they were there for the same reason he was.
he squints his eyes and focus his vision on what seemed like a female figure sitting on the dirt, playing a heavenly tune on the acoustic guitar whilst singing words that he couldn't quite make out. he walked closer, trying his best not to be heard. but she heard him.
she looked back, staring at him blankly.
he didn't want that to go on for much time, and it wasn't really easy to think of something to say to a girl playing a guitar in the middle of a cemetery at one in the morning besides what he did say;
"what are you doing here? in a cemetery, in the middle of the night?" he asks, taking steps closer to her. through she made it quite difficult, she kept crawling backwards. clutching her guitar in her small hands tightly.
"i could ask you the same thing." she says. her voice was shaky, as if she were scared of something.
and they just stood there staring at each other. he'd mostly be staring at what seemed like her head. mostly because one, he wasn't close enough to see her face and two she'd always back up when he tried to walk closer to her. so he stood still. and she stood still. and they just stayed like that for a while.
YOU ARE READING
cemetery ☞ n.m
Short Story❝he doesn't deserve to be here.❞ he says. ❝i do.❞ completed.