Story.

This is one of the *less* depressing stories I found on my disk. I went through a real dark stage when I was a bit younger when I was writing bits and pieces...and far out, it's really depressing to read back on...

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Until Death Do Us Part.

I looked at my watch. I was running late.

Really late.

The sun had already begun to set behind me as I walked quickly along the path. I hadn’t even noticed the time until the librarian came over to me and informed me it was closing time. That’s what I get, for always becoming so engrossed in what I’m reading.

I took another glance at my watch. I knew he’d kill me. He was always worried about me walking home at dusk. I don’t know why he always fusses. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.

If only I could just cut across the park, I’d get home quicker, I thought to myself. Well, that’s what I thought was hiding behind the colossal stone walls which surrounded the perimeter of whatever was beside my usual walking path. I noticed a gate, and decided to cut through. It’d only be this once. And he didn’t have to know.

On inspection as I came closer to the gate, I noticed some gravestones on the other side. On the gate stood letters that read what matched my suspicions.

CITY CEMETERY.

Just this once, I thought, as I gripped the handle of my shoulder bag, and pushed open one of the iron-clad gates which guarded the cemetery. It shrieked shut, as I continued along the path. I slowly began to walk, observing some of the stones that lay nearby. Some of them riddled with age and decay, other’s just riddled with neglect. I noticed an enormous statue. It was an angel, cradling a harp and looking towards the sky.

Wow, a lot of people go to a fair bit of effort for their time after death, I thought to myself, in total awe. It must’ve cost a pretty penny too. Off the path to the right I saw a glimmer of a light flickering through the gravestones. As I got closer, I saw a man. He was kneeled in front of a grave stone it covered in candles and flowers. He just knelt there, his hand upon the stone and his head bowed solemnly.

I stopped for a moment, tilting my head thoughtfully to the side as I observed the man. I felt a twinge of sympathy creep across my mood. I then realised I was trying to get home in time before I ended up here myself, so I continued to walk home.

From then on, I had decided to take the short cut again. It got me home quicker. Evening after evening when I walked through, that same man knelt at the gravestone. I chanced a longer glance one evening. The man wouldn’t be any older than in his 60s. I gave him total credit for being that age and staying in a place like this at night. The person who had died must have been really special to him. He always had candles lit. Sometimes, he would hold a flower, other times he would just sit, head bowed, and silently wept.

As the months progressed, the same man sat there. But it suddenly stopped. One cold evening, I was walking through, and I didn’t see the candles lit. I didn’t see the man perched in front of the grave as I had every other night. I became concerned. I didn’t even know the guy, and I was concerned. Something must have been wrong for him to not be there.

I had the next morning off, and had told my beloved I was going for a walk. I came down to the cemetery, and walked through. I walked towards where I thought the graves were. I saw a casket being lowered into the ground, and I strolled over. As I did, the man looked at me, wondering as to why I was there.

I stood there, eying the stones. I decided to break the awkward silence.

‘I saw him every evening, sitting by this grave,’ I said, looking at the man. He looked at me, nodding solemnly. I just stood there, with my hands in my pocket, as he began to cover the casket with dirt. When he had finished, I continued to stand there. The epitaphs on the headstones caught my attention, and I felt tears forming in my eyes.

Until death do us part.