Angels will Fly || Ed Sheeran

Chapter 26

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The graveyard looked the same as it had when I was last here. If anything there were only more graves. Vines and shrubs grew over the graves of men and women that no longer had children on this earth to take care of their grave sites. I hadn't been here since the week before I died. 

Graveyards weren't exactly a place I wanted to spend my time, I'd much rather be curled up in bed. Yet there I am, ankle deep in snow making my way through the eerie field. There wasn't a single person in this lot of graves, all died over a century before the average eldery person had been born. Here is where my Mother, Father, Brother and Sister-in-law were buried. 

It had been the smallpox epidemic that killed my Father and Brother, my sister-in-law Mary had died in childbirth, the child dying with her. Cupid had allowed me to attend their funerals, though i watched with what was almost glee as my Father's casket was lowered into the muddy ground. 

I stopped beside the large oak tree stripped of its leaves and coated in a thin layer of ice. I could see the identical gravestones. A small head of grey stone, donated by the church. Enscripted in a neat print were names, the Anderson family. 

Joesph Anderson 1765-1798

Jane Anderson 1760 - 1778

Robert Anderson 1776 - 1799

Lillian Anderson  1778 - 1797

Mary Anderson 1778 - 1799

I sat before my own grave, my birth name scrawled across in celtic cursive. Lillian. I had always despised my name, hence I went by Lila. 

There is something really spooky about seeing your own grave. Seeing your name and years of birth and death enscipted in stone for the world to see. I died 217 years ago, yet here I am sat in the snow in front of my grave. Its such a confronting experience. 

My cold fingers brushed idly over my brothers name. We were close, the best of friends. He hadn't been able to save me. It had plagued his mind until his death that he had allowed our Father to murder me. He had not attended our Father's funeral. 

I placed the small bunch of flowers on my dear sister-in-law Mary's grave. We had played together as children. Her Father was a wealthy lawyer in our years, a very kind man who had tied his daughter to marry my Brother. A deal my Father could not deny, a knew the how wealthy we would become. I was to marry their eldest son, Anthony, sadly he died of the flu at the age of 15. 

Many memories were filling my mind, memories I thought were long forgotten. Images and faces of the kind men and women that had surrounded me until my death. 

This is why I didn't come to graveyards.

The real reason I had come was to see my Brother's grave. Ed and I were to be married tomorrow, and I was terrified. I didn't have anyone i could talk to. I'd never had my parents to speak to, only my Brother. But he wasn't here, though his grave was. And that was the next best thing.

I looked around me to make sure no one was around to hear me. I sighed, not a soul in sight.

"Hey Robbie, its me. Its been a while." I sighed smoothing our the dust that sat on top of the grave stone.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited, I've just had such a hectic time I forget sometimes. But I'm actually here for a serious reason, and I really sucks that I can't talk to you face to face. I haven't heard your voice in over 200 years, which kinda sucks. You probably don't understand half of what i'm saying, it isn't our Era." I smiled to myself, I used far too much slang for my poor 18th century brother to be able to understand.