Death; an instance of a person dying. It was a bitterly cold morning on May 17th 2002. A sudden downfall occurred as I saw them lower her down into the Earth. I couldn’t help but weep. We were married for four years, I loved her. When all was done, I remained as I needed time alone with my love.
Mist began to settle in and a strong essence was all around me. I could feel my feet becoming wet from standing on the saturated ground. I could hardly see, because the mist was too thick. I opened my mouth to sigh only to have the musky and heavy mist plunge its way down my throat. I coughed loudly as I struggled to breathe. I managed to catch my breath and took a look around.
The atmosphere was so morbid and, I know, it was a cemetery. I recall hearing the fluttering of wings. It was a bird, I figured. I then heard the creature’s horrid cry and I realised what it was. It was a crow, one of the most feared bad omens in society. It made a sound so dreadful it frightened itself.
As I knelt down to my knees I felt obligated to not say a word, but to remain in absolute silence. How could I have let her go? I found myself crawling to her tombstone, due to the thickening mist. I could hardly see my own hands in front of my face. I began to feel for the lettering on the tombstone, “Alice Johnson. Beloved daughter. Caring sister. Loving wife.”
Not only had I lost the love of my life, but myself as well. As the crow multiplied and proceeded closer, I let out a single scream. Nothing but darkness surrounded me. I was lost in the mist.
© 2018 by Stacey-Leigh Laycock. All Rights Reserved.