Cemetery 1 “Lanterns on the Graves”

I visited Sarah today.

It’s been a very long time.

The leaves in the cemetery are changing early. The smell is everywhere. Every time you take a step, that deep smell of earthy rot hits your nose.

The smell is comforting.

On the graves, people have begun to place lanterns. Nothing elaborate, just solar powered things. At night it is quite beautiful. Most the graves have them now.

I found a dead squirrel on top of a tombstone.

Sarah probably would have liked it if I had brought the kids. Things being as they are, I don't think that would be a great idea.

I hadn't even walked by the cemetery in over a year, let alone gone inside.

The large sinkhole in the middle hasn't gotten larger, but the fence around it needs repairs. I passed the sinkhole on the way to her grave. Water in it was higher than I remembered. I spotted the rope we had used to lower ourselves into it years ago. We used to sneak in a lot. Was a sort of special place for us.

People said I shouldn't bury her here.

I didn't care.

The sinkhole hasn't grown in years and I always planned to keep her here. A few graves down was the grave of some drifter who died. Several crows watched me as I worked on her grave.

I put new flowers up and threw away the old ones. People don't come here enough, and there isn't really a set groundskeeper anymore. It's more voluntary than anything.

People stopped volunteering.

Any given day you can find legions of flowers, strewn about and dead.

I'm tired. I hate to admit it. Something about visiting Sarah makes me feel things.

I haven't been sleeping well. Neither has Margaret, but we have both managed to get enough to keep up with things. Besides her, the only thing that seems to perk me up is my kids. I have been talking to my sister. She agreed to have them go trick or treating with us. Never thought I would ever have to negotiate seeing my own kids, but I'll be happy to have them with me.

There is a house near the cemetery. It's filled with plants. I was inside it once when Sarah was still alive. The woman who lives there is nice enough, but seems overly obsessed with her plants. She has sunlamps all over her home, and plants sit all over the place, even along the stairs. Strangely I don't think any of the plants ever flower. Suppose there are plenty of flowers at the cemetery.

I am tired.

It’s hard to see her again. Her gravestone has a picture of her on it from before the Surgeon. I don't recognize her like that anymore though. I feel separated. You have enough nightmares about something, it can become more normal than the truth. The truth was that before The Surgeon cut off her face, she had been the most beautiful woman I had ever known.

Looking at her picture is like looking at someone else. It isn't her. Not really. Not like she was at the end. And no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to think of her any other way. It's supposed to get dulled with time. Old memories come back and I find some peace.

But I remember the color of her skull.

Her eyes.

They were blue.

But I have to be stronger than that. I have to stop thinking about it and focus on the now.

Today was a good day. Better than most. The weather has cooled a little. Been a little hot for my taste the last few days. Sat outside on the porch for a little while. Too many kids around here.

She hated me by the end of it.

By the time she passed away, I had hoped that the infections would have put her into a coma. It would have afforded her some measure of escape. She was awake until she died, and in a way, I hate her for that.

It's hard for kids to heal when their last memory of their mother was her saying some crap in Sumerian. I have tried not to blame her. Put most of it on me. My instability has had an effect on my son. But if I really think on it, things only got bad when his mom died.

We are going to lock up the knives before he arrives. Just in case.

Police were down the road today. An entire family was missing. They said they found something big in the backyard that they wouldn't elaborate on much.

They just know it screamed when they put it down.

I grew up here. It has always been like this. Dad always thought that maybe it was a bad influence considering my history. Mom has always liked it here and so had I. I have never been able to stay away for very long.

Longest time I ever spent away was after Sarah died.

I have been having the strangest nightmare. Had it three nights in a row now. I'm at a beach and the water is cold and washing over my feet. Loyd is with me, playing with a dead fish.

Something is in the water.

I wade out to it and I hear a voice. It’s something under the water. I sit in the water and instantly I feel the cold surround me. I hear it though.

Hear the voice.

“Ubaba uza...ubaba uza.”

Then from under the water all these deep, red eyes open. First it was just one, then there were multiple. Then suddenly the water gets hot and I am being dragged out of the water. And I see it has been raining, but something is stopping the rain from hitting me.

Something large.

And then I wake up.

Margaret says she hasn't heard me scream like that in a while.

Margaret talks in her sleep.

She says she loves me too.

Turns out the language in my dream is Zulu, or some crap like that. I don't know. Must have picked it up from Sarah.

I went to the cemetery today.

Sarah isn't buried there. She was never buried. It's just a body in the ground.

It's just a body.

I brought home some leaves from the cemetery.

I can't tell the difference.