A Meraki Writer

I lay bouquets of forget-me-nots and roses on the freshly dug graves, then fall to my knees, exhausted. The air is cold causing goosebumps to rise up on my skin. The air smells musty and old. Not a single blade of grass has yet to pop up on the graves, and maybe they never will. What’s buried here is tainted with toxic fumes. I have watered these graves daily with my endless supply of tears.

The sadness creeps through me like the slow moving fog over the graveyard. I stand facing two new headstones. “Here Lies My Undying Love.” The sounds of something trying to break free from its permanent dwelling seeps up through the ground. I look at the other one to the right. In its freshly engraved stone it read, “R.I.P. To Our Future”. That grave lay silent, we had no time to bring anything to life. In there lays an empty casket.

I sit quietly in the fog; the silence is deafening. The only thing I can hear is the sound of my heart beating and the heart-wrenching noise coming from the first grave. The fog becomes denser; there is no light from the sky for the thick clouds have blocked them out. I wonder if the fog will ever become thick enough to suffocate me, is that possible?

The night drags on. How long have I been here? I do not know, nor do I care. Just then the clouds and fog clear enough to shine a spotlight on a third tombstone. I have never seen this one before. I squint in the darkness hoping my eyes will adjust. An intense shockwave shot through my body and then again, stopping my heart for what seemed like eternity. Tears, instantly flooding my eyes. It is his name. The name of the one who brought me to this graveyard in the first place; the reason the first two headstones exist. I rush over to it leaving indentations in the second grave where I had been kneeling.

Underneath the name that I had come to love were two dates. The first I could see clear as day. His birthday. The second was blurry. I rubbed my eyes, squinted, squeezed them shut and opened. Nothing helped. I reached out my hand and ran my fingers over the engraving. It too was distorted. My heart, now racing, felt like it would beat right out of my chest and into the open grave of which I was leaning over. My supporting hand slipped knocking some pebbles into the empty tomb. I heard them hit what sounded like glass. I peer down into the darkness, but cannot see anything. This grave appears to be deeper than six feet. As my body was stretched over the hole something solid hit my head causing me to lose balance and into the empty grave I fell.

I landed hard. A sharp pain shot through my arm. I screamed in pain and reached for the area that was throbbing. Something sharp was sticking out of my flesh. I mustered up courage and carefully pulled it out. I brought it to my line of site. Glass, it was glass. I looked around and this time my eyes adjusted. I was laying on a compilation of liquor bottles and cigarette butts.

I knew instantly what it meant. The universe, apparently, thought I hadn’t seen enough. Just then two more bottles fell from the sky landing not far from my feet. Moments later a cigarette butt dropped down adding to the already tremendous collection I was lying on.

I felt helpless. I carefully stood on the unsteady ground, my arm throbbing. I felt around the walls hoping for a root, for anything to help me get out of here. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. I jumped hoping to reach the top, it was useless. I stumbled around, falling a couple of times. Another bottle fell into the grave. I screamed for him to stop. I knew he couldn’t hear me, but it was all I could do. The tears flowed even more freely as I thought about him and how he’s destroying the very being of which I love. I was filled with even more determination. I dug my fingers into the ground trying to climb out. I fell, and fell again. Persistence raged through me. As the bottles and cigarettes continued to rain from the abyss above; I pushed myself harder and harder. My fingers hurt, blood oozed from underneath my nails, yet I didn’t care. I had to get out. I had to save him. Hours pass by but little progress had been made. My arm weak from the pain, the loss of blood was getting to me. I fought long and hard. I made it halfway up when my hands slipped and I once again landed on my back on the bottles. I screamed out in pain. The agonizing pain of defeat silenced the screams of my broken and bleeding body. Hoping for a miracle. It wasn’t coming.