Marigold Mysteries: Part One, Ashes To Ashes

Chapter 1 : Death and Revival

12:43. Saturday. I was sprawled face down on the table. My heart had ceased to beat. My blood splattered across the plate in front of me. The chocolate croissant was probably still warm. It's a shame. I was looking forward to it.

Let's rewind a bit.

12:30. I walked into the café. What had started as a need for a change of scenery had turned into a habit. It wasn't like there was anything special about this café in particular, one of many of the same chain in the city. A few metal tables stood outside, shaded by cloth umbrellas from the sunshine. Once inside, you could observe some the monotonous slew of students slaving over their laptops and assignments, the occasional artist curled up in the corner people watching, working adults on their break, and the families, likely on vacation, stopping by and picking up a coffee before moving on to a more tourist friendly part of the city. All was observed disinterestedly by employees who looked like they'd rather be anywhere but here.

Going up to the counter, I ordered a coffee and a chocolate croissant from the barista with the dead-inside look in her eye. She asked for a name and I'd answered, quickly leaving to get a table. It's the most I'd interacted with anyone all day. It didn't matter at the moment, but it would eventually. To think, my last words were "chocolate croissant."

I chose a table by the window, brushing off crumbs left by the last person there. As I waited for my order, I opened my laptop. To my chagrin, the Word document titled "Essay" was still devoid of text. My fingers hovered above the keys for a moment, before I rested them on the table. I was going to need coffee to get through this.

Like a god answering my unspoken prayers, the girl at the counter called my name. I grabbed my laptop, tucking it under my arm. Logically, I knew that no one was going to steal it in the fifteen seconds it took to get up from my seat, but I'm not the type of person who can resist those small illogical actions.

Going up to the counter, I took the coffee, warmth seeping through the styrofoam cup, in one hand and my croissant in the other, focused on not dropping them or my laptop as I headed back to my seat. Stood in front of my table I placed both down, then reached for the laptop under my arm. The bell on the café door behind me jingled, but I paid it no attention.

That is, until I heard a click from a few feet behind me. Before I could turn, there was an explosion of pain in the back of my head. I tipped forward like a drunk, dropping my laptop to the ground, collapsing onto the table. 12:43. It's at this moment that my heart stopped. My face on the table, my blood on the croissant, unaware of the chaos that unfolded from there on. My world went dark.

...

Something is wrong. I'm lying on my back, resting on what feels like... grass? I open my eyes to the sight of a starry sky. Okay, that's strange. Wasn't I inside? Trying to think about it makes my head hurt.

I sit up, my loose hair falling over my right eye, observing my darkened surroundings. The sky is dark, trees almost bare, with their remaining leaves shuddering in the fall breeze. Closer to the ground, stone headstones surround me, but it's too dark to see what's inscribed on them. I'm in a graveyard apparently. That's not very reassuring. What I notice next is that next to where I'm sitting is an open grave.

Logically, I know it's only six feet deep, but it feels like a yawning abyss. I scramble back from it, but my back hits something. I turn.

It's a coffin. I shy back a little, but on a closer look, it appears to be empty. I let out a sigh of relief. Until I realize. Open grave, empty coffin, what's missing here?

The corpse, of course. My breath quickens, my heart beating erratically in my chest. I shoot to my feet; a dress I know I wasn't wearing at the café brushes against my knees in the breeze. Backing up until the backs of my knees hit a different gravestone. I slowly move my eyes to the grave, but somehow I know what I'm going to see. There's no rotting corpse, just an open coffin and an open grave, a pile of upturned dirt to the side.