The guitar strung rhythmically as Ole Johnny Cash sang his sorrow to the world, regret over the years gone by dripping from every word, flowing to every ounce of the car from the speakers. The stars overhead twinkled through a break in the clouds as we drove, moonlight shining down in a cascade of rays to illuminate the landscape briefly until the clouds retook the sky. The cracked leather seat creaked as I adjusted my position. It has been a long drive. I looked over at her, curled up in the passenger seat with her legs tucked up underneath her as she gazed solemnly at the passing countryside. We drove in silence. I knew she wouldn’t have anything to say when she got in. That’s just the way she was now, silent and solemn. A couple of hours after midnight, we arrived. The wind stirred as we started down a path between the rows of headstones. In the distance, a marble mausoleum stood in regal relief against the purple backdrop of night. I tried to hold her hand as we walked, but I grabbed at nothing and gave up. I don’t know why I even bothered. We followed the path deeper into the cemetery to a dark alcove with brush and trees creeping in over it. One headstone stood out amongst the rest. It was unblemished. No cracks marred it’s outline. No stains marked it’s surface. The date of death carved into its surface was only a few weeks before tonight. I felt a tear slip down my cheek as I read the inscription over and over again. She was watching me silently. I looked up at her imploringly and noticed that she was crying too. I reached out to her and she reached out to me, but her hand passed through mine. She tried speaking to me, but no voice came. I lowered my hand and told her, “I love you, and I miss you, but this isn’t you. It’s time to let go. It’s time to move on.” She looked despairingly at the grave marker, the grave marker with her name on it, and then looked back up at me with a pleading desperation. I shook my head and said, “No, it’s time to move on.” She reached for me again, but before I even had time to try and take her ethereal grip in mine the ground at her feet wrenched apart as a malformed dæmonic claw struck through it. A pale red light shimmered out around it as it grabbed her and pulled her down through the earth, her face distorted with fear in a silent scream as she grasped futilely for me. I fell backwards in fear as the ground closed around where she had just stood. The night became still.
Illustrations credit: Maya Willis 2016