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I roam in the graveyard, alone. Something about the dead attracts me to them. The way they died or perhaps it is the reason they died. I have never been afraid of death and eventhough being able to hear the dead, I don't fear it.
There's only a little time left until the sun rises and I return back, pretending that this night never happened.
They tell me stories. Perhaps one of the reasons why I am afraid to sleep. When I sleep, there have been times where I have felt the pain one did when they died or for the fact that when I was young I had horrible dreams and when I woke up, I found myself covered in scars that were never there, before.
It was excruciating. I have dealt with so much pain in my life, it feels as if I don't deserve happiness anymore. But there is so much that a person can take.
I avoid walking on the graves, reading epitaphs, my foot leaving their prints on the ground I walk on.
I have left my mark on the ground that I stand on, just like my parents left a mark of rather a scar, a wound on me which will never be able to heal.
I pass the 'supposed' graves of my parents. The whole world thinks that my parents are buried here but only I and I will ever know the truth. The truth that they were buried alive in the house I once lived in.
That I am afraid to take a step inside that house because I am afraid of what they might say. Afraid if they'll ever forgive me.
Tell him.
A thought that is not my own says and my ears try to find the source of that thought. As I observe my surroundings, I notice that Elisha's grave is right in front of me and beautiful flowers that weren't there before are jutting out of the stone.
Her soul is still alive.
Tell him.
She repeats and it takes me a moment to figure out what she means. I can't tell him.....he'll hate me forever knowing that I was partially the reason why the girl talking to me right now is dead.
He loved her and I am ashamed that I took someone so close to his heart. It wasn't my fault. There are million others like him who have lost their loved ones because of the monster that I created in my own flesh.
I was confused and upset and irrational and.....mad.
You need to.
I know that I need to but everytime I see his face, I forget every worry of mine. Every burden. It's like the world doesn't exist when I am with him. Just him and me.
If I tell him the reason, if I show him who I truly am, he wouldn't even spare me a glance. He'll walk away because he trusts me and after knowing his side of the story, I can't bring myself to.
Would you rather have him figure out from someone else?
I never thought of that because that isn't a possibility. No one knows. It's my past. My secret. And a secret can only be shared between three people if two are dead.
YOU ARE READING
Engraved.
ParanormalKatrina Grey has always steered clear out of drama's way seeing to the fact that she has a secret, and with the constant changes in society, that secret might emotionally and physically destroy her or save the lives of those who she loves. But one...