The intricate iron gate swung open, stirring the thick fog. The gloom threatened to swallow me whole, and in some ways I hoped it would. I walked along the cobblestone path, heading towards the towering mauseleom in the center of the graveyard, listening to the winter wind whip through the bare trees.

I used to feel uneasy among cemeteries. I felt uncomfortable walking above the dead. I hated the idea of disturbing them and being disrespectful. Up until recently, I avoided the subject of death at all costs. As a child, I always was fascinated by the morbid and maccbre. I loved hearing ghost stories and learning about tragic histories. It’s gotten a little easier in the last few months. But walking among headstones always connected the stories too close to reality for me. Roaming amongst tombs and crypts reminded me that one day, I will die. And I try not to dwell on that fact.

Up until a year ago, I had no real reason to be in a graveyard. The pain of loss had yet to reach me, but now that it has, I feel a sense of commraderie with the dead. My grandmother was the most influential person in my life and my best friend. Our souls were cut from the same cloth and I’ve never felt more embraced by someone. Her death has changed my entire outlook on grief, the afterlife, and ultimately cemeteries.

Now, I find myself walking from headstone to headstone, picking up fallen flags for the veterans, turning toppled vases right side up, or pulling weeds from the granite stones.

Other times, I bring a book and sit beside my grandmother’s headstone. I have come to hope that my presence brings her and the other’s resting here some comfort, wherever they may be. I hope they know that they have not been forgotten.

The late winter chill in the air has my cheeks flushing so I fold my shawl in, burrowing as the snow begins to fall in flurries. Usually, I find myself alone here at this time of day, the sun drifting below the horizon. It’s uncommon for vistors to stay this late in the evening, but I feel compelled to wish the residents a goodnight.

The dark is the worst place to be alone. Somehow, I don’t feel alone here. I don’t feel as though I’m being watched, but I feel like I’m being looked after.

I lift my eyes to the nearby treeline, just beyond the groundskeepers cottage. A figure passes between the anciet oaks, sauntering along. As the snow begins to stick to the ground, I find myself wondering about the groundskeeper. What must it be like to work amongst the dead? Day in, and day out, to be constantly reminded of the inevitable end in store.

The figure begins to come to a stop beside the largest oak in the cemetery. I can make out his broad shoulders and black slicked back hair. He leans against the trunk, shoving his hands in his pockets. Under his stare I feel oddly comforted. Not being the only one out here for a change feels nice.

Placing my bookmark between the pages, I close the cover and stand. Maybe the groundskeeper would enjoy some company while he makes his rounds.

Kneeling, I gather the rest of my belongings and sling my bag over my shoulder. When I look up at the treeline again, the groundskeeper is gone. Puzzled, I beeline straight to the oak tree he was just leaning upon.

The fog is so thick, the snow becoming a dance of powder on the wind, I begin to wonder if I imagined him. He appeared so clear to me.

Once I reach the tree, I notice a piece of folded parchment is laid upon the largest root. I bend down to pick it up, brows furrowing. The note reads “We thank you for bidding us good night, kind visitor. Your beauty and compassion is never unnoticed by us that rest here. You are never alone here, for we are always protecting those that honor us. I hope to meet you someday, when you cross to this realm. - Sincerely Yours, Victor.”

As I finish reading the note, it feels as though icy finger tips gently trace my jaw. Beneath the oak tree, etched into the stone of the mauseleum reads, “Victor Cromwell - Dearly Departed”.

The only place they could meet away from curious eyes and the noisy surrounding world was the graveyard. A rectangular lot, fairly small compared to most burial zones and shrouded in eerie darkness, a hovering foggy mist, most of the bodies discarded of there had died long ago enough to be almost completely void of familial visitation. While the vacated lot of moist turf and looming grey stones was in the middle of a decently populated town, after midnight there was no chance of being spotted within it, especially considering the oddly symmetrical yet perfectly placed wall of lush trees lining its picket fence’s exterior, protection from the wandering eye of those scuffling along the adjacent streets. Hunched figures, heads tucked into shaggy parkas and hands stuffed in pockets as they pass in unhidden haste, terrified. Scurrying inconspicuously by—desperate to repel some dreaded evil spirits’s attention, to avoid the sense of mysterious dread beckoning to them from within the twisted metal entrance gates, which gently swing and creak on their anciently rusted hinges.

There were rumours of ghosts causing unexplainable ripples in a peaceful night’s brisk air, or strange shadowed figures having been spotted crouching behind the cool stone slab marking some long-gone and likely forgotten soldiers’ final resting place.

Spencer’s heart, however, wasn’t racing due to fear of monsters waiting to pounce or otherworldly spirits seeking to possess an unsuspecting visitor’s soul. No, the erratic thundering and pounding against his ribcage was because he knew, at any moment, he would lay eyes on her. Alexis.

Creeping through the darkness with fear’s echoing theme song in his ears, Spencer found himself recalling in his mind each and every conversation he and Alexis had participated in over the past six months. Every night, without skipping even one, their texts travelled throught cyberspace for hour after hour, covering enough unique topics to span an entire country’s surface. The last half-year of his life had been better than all 17 of his previous years combined because of her, and he knew she felt the same, or she wouldn’t have agreed to meet him here in Texas, flying from her family home thousands of miles away in some aesthetic corner of France.

His entire camara roll was composed of picture after picture of her, some including her close friends or family. His soul set on fire at every chance to view from another angle those fiery blue eyes, quirky, constantly sarcastic half-lipped smile, and wavy hair that changed colour what seemed like every week. Today he already knew it would be magenta, because she’d chosen that dye due to it being his favourite shade on her so far.

Shoving his memories aside, Spencer tugged his black winter jacket tighter, feeling goosebumps prickle along the skin of his lean, muscular arm and legs, despite the downy fabric protecting him from the nipping autumn breeze’s direct touch. His hazelnut brown eyes scanned the stretch of scattered gravestones laid out before him as he winced as an especially sharp gust of wind caused his cheeks to flush bright red from the familiar stinging pain.

That’s when he saw it—or her, as he could only assume. The fague silhouette of a perfectly still human leaning casually up against a memorial wall celebrating the lives lost during World War Two. With the moon shrouded in a veil of dark clouds, it was nearly impossible to make out their face besides the unusually sharp upward curve of a nose and arms crossed, likely an automatic protective response out of nervousness. Spencer felt a smile spread across his face in pleasure at the fact that he knew she was afraid of the dark. Not because he experienced joy from knowing she was currently suffering from extreme discomfort for his sake, but because retaining information about her had become almost like an obsession to him. Or a drug….like weed or cocaine, every snippet of new information giving him a miniature high.

Speeding up into a stride, and then a full-on jog as the excitement bubbling within his chest threatened to overflow, turning into energy that instantly warmed his frozen-solid legs. “Alexis!” He called, cupping his numb hands around his mouth to amplify the sound.

She didn’t move, not even a muscle as far as he could tell. No shift of her body to face him or beckoned tilt of the head in his general direction—nothing at all to signify she was aware of his quick approach and loud shouts’ echoing throught the rapidly closing bridge of space between them.

Stumbling to a halt a mere couple of feet before her, he gripped his knees, hunched over as heavy breaths heaved into and gasped out of his overworked lungs. Brushing a curled, stray lock from his forehead and straightening himself upright, Spencer was more than a little perplexed to find she hadn’t even stirred an inch, hadn’t even shown an ounce of interest in his obvious presence.

Was she ok? Had he offended her unintentionally in some way? He hadn’t seen any angry or upset texts from her on the way here, not since their conversation spanning into the wee hours of last night, planning how these precious, limited hours would be spent.

“Alexis?” He inquired breathlessly. His once upbeat, exuberant tone now laced with anxiety and the beginnings of unfiltered dread. “That’s you, right?”

It was at this moment that the shield of clouds shrouding her shadowy silhouette posed stilly before him drifted aside, coaxed by a sudden heightening in the breeze’s ferocity. A beam of pure white moonlight penetrated the darkness, lighting up his mysterious companion’s features and causing Spencer to stagger backwards in terror.

His midnight lover this strange creature was undoubtedly not, nor human by appearance in any manner whatsoever. It’s face was a gnarled knot of warped flesh and rotted teeth sticking out in multiple crooked directions, breath reeking of something purtrid that reminded him of a cross between day-old, dried vomit and molding vegetables at the bottom of a compost bin. Yellow-rimmed, bloodshot eyes sunken into hollows and skin paler than a slice of Swiss cheese. Greasy, stringy hair framed a monsterous complexion, so unhuman it made something vile slide into the canal of Spencer’s throat and sting a little, burning like acid.

He never met Alexis.

With a twinkle of diamond in his pocket, And a once brown suit now turning grey, Hugo walked to the manor of the women he'd pursue, And only with her would he find his place.

"Oh Anna Lee, take my hand in marriage, And my love for all life. With you, I shall be one, For all my days and nights," He cried to the wind.

"And let us be one, forever, For eternity and in-between," Hugo sung aloud, Within the haunting graveyard.

He stopped when he reached a grave With a picture of a women Almost as beautiful as Anna Lee. Almost.

“Take my hand in marriage” He practiced on the girl long dead, Dead before she could be wed.

“Be mine and I will be yours. We’ll dance on the border of reality And live a life of merry making.

With a wedding in his mind He stepped to a gravestone as dark as night. "Take my hand in marriage," He said to the silent grave:

"We will be as one in life and soul, forevermore you'll be at my side."

"Yes, I do." The wind whispered Before the ground swallowed him whole.

The graveyard robber prowled through the open gate, shovel in hand, eyes scanning for recent burials or elderly burials from at least twenty years back.

The robber’s greedy eyes lock on a shiny stone protruding up from the ground like a rotting finger from a dead hand.

It was shaped as a mason jar, painted fireflies dancing about on the stones face. The chiseled words tell the robber that the lady lying beneath is twenty five years old and died two years ago.

The man puts his shovel into the dirt and tosses a shovel full of dirt to the side. He continues this motion until his shovel clunks against something with a hard THUNNK!!

He stops and kneels, continuing to scrap the remainder away with his hands, until a pale pink casket surfaces. He fights the metal case halfway out of the ground, and prys the lid open, pale pink paint chipping and drifting to the ground as he pops the three locks holding the lid.

He steps back and nudges it open with his toe, covering his nose before the smell of rotting flesh can assault his nose.

A woman sits up in the casket, all bones and dried flesh. She smiles, her rotted lips pulled back in what seems to be a grimace, but the robber knows is a smile. Stunned, he watches as the woman stands and hands him a velvet bag.

“I believe-“ her jaw crackles and squeaks like a rusty hinge. She pauses working her jaw loose. “I believe this is your reward for saving me. I was told a handsome young man would come to my aid.”

The robber doesn’t believe his eyes! The dead has begun to talk to him. Never before had this happened! Usually they lay still while he rummages amongst their belongings, pocketing valuables.

“Why, don’t stand there boy! Get up and dance! Open the pouch, let’s get this over with!”

The robber shakily opens the red pouch, peering in before thrusting three fingers inside. They wound around a box, in which he pulls from its spot nestled amongst soft padding.

He pops the box open. Inside, nestled amongst more soft cushion is a diamond ring.

“Before I died, my boyfriend was going to propose,” the woman says softly. “And now I have you. Now you can propose.”

“Don’t you think this is going a little too fast?” The robber tugs at his collar as though the midnight air has escalated to a higher temperature. “I mean, I have to think about this. That takes time, and… and work.”

The woman looks upon him and smiles. She nods, agreeing with him. From then on, the robber and the ghostly woman meet up every night.

They take long walks through the cemetery, laughing about things they’ve done in their pasts. The robber learns to love the rotting smell radiating from his bony skeleton girlfriend.

On one particular night, he proposed under the glittering full moon. She said yes. After that, they lie on the grass, exchanging kisses. The robber ran his hands through the dead girl’s knotted, wormy hair, ignoring the fleas that bit him angrily.

He would stare into her empty sockets for years on end. Twin voids, brightened by the moon. He would watch her jaw work along every word.

And he still heard that familiar squeak.

Was it supposed to feel this way? The pain. The tears. Maybe it was because in my mind Kai was someone who would alwyas be in this world. I couldn’t even imagine seeing his name on a grave, it was too much. Tyler stepped up to the grave. “Malachai,” he whispered, “I’ve got this for you.” He placed a picture on the grave. It was of him and Kai, with there arms around each others shoulders. “It’s from 1874, the last time I remember us laughing since we turned into vampires. It was your favorite picture of us. Mine too.” Tyler touched grave, before he closed his eyes. Taking Kai to that memory. Tyler smiled as he opened his eyes, “I’ll remember that for us.” Mallory stepped up and put a hand on Tyler shoulder. “Kai,” she spoke, “I have this.” She placed a piece of black leather. “You probably don’t remember this but, it was the first day of school and my schedule was messed up. I thought I was supposed to go to class after lunch but it was before. I was standing outside the door trying so hard to find away to be brave enough to walk in. Then you showed up. I hated you but at that moment I felt safe. I told you about it, and you took this out of your pocket and told me to hold in my hand. You said your dad gave it to you when you were little, and it helped you do things that scared you. You helped me that day Kai. When no one else would. I’ll always remember that.” Mallory started crying, as she looked at his grave, “What’s happening Tyler?” She asked leaning her head again his shoulder. Tyler wrapped his arm around her leaning his head against hers. I tried my best to smile as I stepped up to Kai’s grave. It looked so wrong, it felt so wrong. We were saying good by to Kai. Kai. He wasn’t supposed to leave. I looked down at the necklace in my hand. Kai had given it to me for my birthday. It was the nicest thing he had ever done for me. “Kai, I’m sure you remember this,” I set it next to Tyler’s picture. “It has been the most important thing in my life. Two months ago when you,” I took a shaky breath, “When you died. I had Mallory erase my memories. Then one day a few weeks ago, actually I remember the day May fourth. I was walking along the pond were you and me ice skates on Christmas. While I was walking I saw the necklace lying in the sand. Right when I touched it everything’s came flooding back in. My love for you. It was so much pain. I almost wanted to make Mallory redo the spell so nothing would make me remember. But then that night when I looked at the stars I remembered the first time we stayed up late looking at them. You told me if you could relive any moment in your entire life you would relive that moment. So I decided that I would remember that moment for you. And it made every bit of pain I felt fade away, but only when would look at the stars. It made me feel like that’s where you were. Up in the sky, shinning bright with the rest of the stars. This necklace was the start of every good thing that ever happened to me. And I can’t wear it unless you’re here because that necklace only has a meaning when I can look at it and don’t cry. “I thought maybe you could use it. To start a new life we’re ever you are. Because I know that for the rest of my life I’ll never start over. I’ll just live life, I won’t ever fall in love again. And the way I’ll get through each day is thinking about the moment when I’ll finally get to be in your arms again.” I touched Kai’s grave, closing my eyes. When I opened them I was sitting on the ground smiling at Kai as we watched the stars. Then I was up in the air looking down at Kai as we skated around the frozen pond. I was dancing in the rain feeling so free I couldn’t believe it. Kai was putting my necklace around my neck. The only one who had remember my birthday. I was standing at the door, as Kai walked up. “I remember this moment,” Kai smiled at me. I smiled back, “Except this time, you don’t have to ask. Because any party I ever go to you’ll always be the one with me.” Kai laughed, “I have to ask, it’s rude not to.” I laughed, “Okay, ask away.” “If anyone asks. We can together.” I smiled wrapping my arms around Kai. “They don’t have to ask. I’ve already told the whole world.” Kai smiled his ocean blue eyes looking straight into mine, “Well to bad because I’m telling everyone any ways.” “Please don’t leave me,” I said resting my head on Kai’s shoulder. Kai hugged me close, “I don’t have a choice. This is life right.” I nodded, “I need you.” “I’m okay dying because I get to die knowing I was loved not by anyone but by you, Elina Copper. And to me is the definition of a perfect life.” I closed my eyes taking a shaky breath, “I never imagined this moment. We were supposed to live forever.” Kai shook his head, “We weren’t or we would be living it right now. This is what was supposed to happen.” “I love you Kai,” I whispered, I could feel myself slipping away. “I loved you the moment I met you,” Kai’s voice faded as I left.

“Elina?” Mallory asked as I opened my eyes. “Are you okay?” I shook my head, “I’ll never be okay. Not in a world without Kai.”

She yawned, opening her eyes. As always, all she saw was black. She lifted her hands and pushed on the clump or grass, dirt, and dead flowers above her head. It easily opened and she sat up, her back popping the whole way.

At the same time, he was doing it too. He looked at her with a loving warmth in his empty eye sockets. She loved it. She hadn’t been dead as long as him, so her eyes were still intact, but occasionally they would pop out and she would have to jab them back in.

“My love,” he said, rising out of the hole in the ground. She smiled and scooted back in hers to make room for him. He sat in the end of hers, bones and joints popping and occasionally falling off. He didn’t seem to care.

Once a week they would sit in her grave, they would talk, share their lives with each other. But if they got caught… then the living would obliterate them and it would all be gone. Every shared moment, every stolen kiss, every memory, gone, gone, gone…

I never thought my life would have brought me to this point. Standing alone in the cemetery looking down and the resting place for my first love. One act of violence led to his death, something that could have been prevented. I know what the narrative will be. It has been the Same thing for a week. The headlines read: “Shawn Jackson, man identified in the shooting, killed in act of violence.” They always leave out the part that he was In his yard cooking on the grill, while I was playing in the pool with his daughter he had just put burger on the grill for the holiday weekend. His three year old daughter saw everything this poor child will be traumatized from watching her dads best friend drive by an shot her father.

****One week ago ****

The day began like any other day i got up and went for a 5am run. When i got home i called my boyfriend of one year. Planning for the cookout we were having it is the Fourth of July so we were planning a party with our families so i went to his place to help set up and this was a double party because his daughter Lyla turns three today when I met Shawn he had just gotten out of a hard relationship. His ex walked away from him and their two year old daughter. Today she turns three. We wanted to show her how loved she is so i planned a Fourth of July party and a birthday party her theme this year is rainbow. She loves everything pretty and rainbow.

As I got everything ready he went to get the grill ready and me and Lyla went to get in the pool. We were splashing around and time passed we were just two people in love getting ready to celebrate Lyla. As he began to put food on the grill everything changed. A black care that we knew drove by and began firing shots. I grab Lyla and move her behind me the car passed and he shots stopped. Four shots fired. One at th grill one hit the window of the house and the other two hit Shawn i grabbed Lyla and pulled her out of the pull grabbed my phone and called 911. I tried to stop the bleeding, what happened next will tick in my mind forever. He looked at me and said “i love you Jade, I was going to marry you. Make sure lyla knows how much i loved her.” As he took his final breaths i help his hand his head propped in my lap screaming for anyone that could hear me.

A few days later i had gotten a call to retrieve his belongings they found in his pocket. I wet to get the items he had on him: a wallet, his house key, and a small black box with a note attached to it.

The box had a beautiful diamond ring and the note read this’

Jade Marie Jordan, the love of my life. I have never loved anyone more than you. You are the most amazing person i have ever met. You came into my life at the darkest moment. Thank you for loving me and Lyla more than anything, this has been the year of my life. Today I make it official

Today on July 4, 2020 i will ask you Jade to marry me.

This really isn’t your typical love story, or at least the beginning of one that you hear or read about too often. This is a love story born from a place where death resides. But it’s definitely one worth telling.

   Welcome to the small town of Windale, where everyone knows everyone. Or at least they think they do. Behind every door is a mystery and every resident has their secrets.  But that’s a story for another time. Let’s get back to the unusual love story. But before we meet our two lovebirds, we need to travel just past the edge of town where the old seemingly abandoned graveyard resides.  

  Years back before Windale grew to what it is today, the old graveyard was just a tiny plot used to bury the founding families and ancestors before our time. Since then a much larger graveyard has been built for future generations. However this original graveyard is still the stomping ground for anyone who wishes to pay their respects to those we’ve lost. Although more often than not it’s  been seen as the local haunted hangout thanks to some  obnoxious teens.  

   We begin our love story with a very lonely Christopher  Belmont who seems to be taking comfort underneath the crooked tree hidden in the corner of the graveyard. This is where Christopher likes to spend his afternoon time, in a quiet graveyard just past all the  tiny hustle and bustle in town. It’s here where Christopher feels more like himself among the dead. 

  Although he personally knows only one among this graveyard, he feels somewhat connected to them all. He loves to spend almost every day here just relaxing with his thoughts. Every time spent here is an exact repeat of the day before, but Christopher doesn’t mind it all. However on this particular day, our lonely Christopher is met with another on the opposite end of the small graveyard. 

   In all the times that Christopher has spent his days here this is the first he’s seen anyone else. Let alone someone as beautiful as she was. She was simply breathtaking to Christopher and the way she flowed and glistened underneath the sun, made him feel giddy inside. He decided to make his presence known by clearing his throat loud enough for her to hear across the way. 

    His plan had worked, she turned to give him a cold hard stare. Christopher recoiled in his corner where his giddiness was soon replaced with guilt. He hadn’t noticed that this beautiful creature was in a deep thought, perhaps praying to whomever the tombstone belonged to.  Christopher didn’t think there was anyone as old as him around that possibly knew anyone in this graveyard. As far as he knew, he was the only one. Anyone else he ever came into contact with were either too young or not old enough to remember what this graveyard was like in its prime. 

 Christopher decided he didn’t want to be more of a bother than he already was, so he decided to cut his visit short. But as he gathered himself to float away, she glided her way over to him. Her name was Sarah Rigby, or at least thats what Christopher remembers    Her saying to him. He was completely smitten with her beauty up close, leaving him to hear almost nothing.  
    She told him of how she had seen him here before underneath the tree and how he always looked so content and at peace. Christopher couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he had an admirer and didn’t even know it. 
    All those times he thought he was alone, he had no idea this beautiful soul was not that far from view. They instantly had a connection. She had apologized for giving him what she liked to call her “Death Stare”. She was praying to someone she knew that was buried here and didn’t like to be interrupted, hence the stare. Christopher apologized for being so rude and asked if they could meet again tomorrow. 
   Sarah kindly accepted his request and flew away. Day after day they always met up in the old graveyard and talked about the good old days when they were still alive as humans. They developed a pure relationship and soon went from lonely Christopher Belmont and beautiful soul Sarah Rigby to Mr. and Mrs. . 
   In life they had their own versions of love with others, in this life they never dreamed they would find love at all. Nevertheless they were both happy to find love again even if it felt different this time around. The graveyard will forever be their home for as long as they like. But if they should choose to find life elsewhere, all they need to do is pick up their black raven feathered wings and fly into the sky among the other human souls hidden within the black raven community. And so these two lived on forever in the afterlife, where their love continues to know no bounds.

I’ll never forget the first time I met her.

Hair dark as the night sky,red eyes that shown brighter than rubies.

She was truly a sight to behold.

She was so beautiful, that I forgot where I was. Her smile was so cute and heart-warming that I forgot how I even ended up here. She soon spoke and that’s when I realized where I was, I was in.. a graveyard..?

“Heh, You might want to move, I don’t think that person’s spirit would appreciate you standing on their home.”

I broke out of my trans and look down, I realized what I was standing on, it was someones grave. I panicked and quickly moved.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry I didn’t realize that I was standing on a spirit’s home..?” I said with a hint of worry and confusion in my voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll just tell them you didn’t do it on purpose.” The girl said as she gave me a smile. “So what’s your name stranger?”

“Alois.”

“What a lovely name it really suits you.” The girl said I could feel the heat rising up to my face.

“U-uhm thank y-you, mind telling me your name..?” I said now feeling shy from her complement.

The girl placed her hand on her chin as if she was thinking of what her name was.

“Hmm..you may call me Mara.” She said.

“Mara..what a beautiful name.” I said to her complementing her back.

“Why thank you Alois. So, what brings you to my graveyard?” Curiosity in her voice as she asked me a question.

“Well..me and my friends where at this Halloween party in a park and we sort of got split up after running from the police when they came to kick us out of the park for being to loud.” I said in a sheepish tone. Explaining my dumb reason of how I ended up here.

“Ah, so you were the people making such a ruckus.” She said shaking her head.

“I’m sorry..” I said looking down,totally embarrassed about my story.

“No worries, now that the parties over the dead can now rest in peace.” Mara smiled.

“Mara do you own this graveyard?” I said looking back up.

“Why yes I do, I’ve been in charge of this place for years.”

“For years? Wait, what age did you take over this plac-“

“Ah! It’s almost sunrise, forgive me but I must go hope we can meet each other again!” Mara said in a hurry.

“Huh- hey wait!”

Right when I was going to start running after her I tripped over something and blacked out.

Damn it.

When I woke up I was still in the graveyard. Was it all a dream? No it couldn’t be, I’m still in the graveyard remember.

“Mara..”

I got up and looked around, no one. Not a single soul, well there’s many souls here but you get the point.

“I wonder where did she-“

“Hey Alois! Guys, I found him over here!”

I heard one of my friends shout my name. So, they were looking for me..

“Hey dude are you ok? We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“I-im fine I just-“

“Ah I shouldn’t ask you all these questions right now, come on let’s get out of this creepy place.”

I started walking out the yard with my friend. I looked back at the welcome sign and sighed.

“I hope we met again too.”

Have you ever attended a funeral of someone you barely know?

Before I came here, I didn't know him, to be honest, aside from his name-which might have been fake in the first place. I barely knew what he looked like. I mean, the pictures he sent me looked starkly different from the face behind the coffin glass.

I only came here to know the truth. I guess I wanted to affirm myself that I wasn't being ghosted—the urban dictionary meaning, but I guess the literal meaning applied now. When I first heard of his untimely death, I couldn't believe it. A whole life of having social anxiety, I initially thought this was one elaborate prank. Or at least a lame asshole excuse for chickening out of the first time we would have supposed to meet. I waited for a few hours on our rendezvous. And when I thought I wasted enough time and self-respect, I left and thought that was the end of it. But then I received that call from the police. Apparently, I was the last contact of the "body" -a hot one at that-who might be a homicide victim. But being confirmed later on that he simply died of heart attack ruled that out, and the fact that we never even met got me off the hook.

It was a solemn event. It seems that he was a man with a tight-knit family. One that has several groups of friends, too. I felt alone. Of course, I didn't personally know anyone. There were a few familiar faces, some I might have historically known from hooking up too. The gay world is a small world, after all. I began questioning why I even went there in the first place.

As they lowered the casket underground and started casting flowers down his way, I was about to leave. A voice called out to me, "Hey." I turned to face a man who was perhaps his brother—he looked similar enough, but younger. "You're Ryan, aren't you? There's someone I'd like you to meet," he said as he gestured to the man beside him. "Edward."

We let an awkward "Hey" with each other. Who the hell does introductions at funerals?

"I guess l’Il leave the two of you alone," the brother said as he patted our backs and headed back towards his grieving family.

There was an awkward moment of silence shared between me and Edward.

"So.." we began at the same time. There was a brief moment of smiling at this awkwardness between us.

"Glad to know that there's someone like me here," he said.

"Like?"

"Well, you know... I also do not know anyone here, too. And I barely knew him, only met him once weeks ago." So, was he like... you know? Another hook up?

People were starting to leave the funeral site. A thought occurred in my head.

"Hey," I began to ask Edward. "This may sound crazy but... Do you have somewhere to go after? Like, for the pagpag?" Pagpag—which, translated literally, means to brush off dirt or dust—was a Filipino superstitious custom of not going home directly after attending a funeral, believing that the spirit of the deceased will follow you into your home unless you make a detour or a stopover somewhere else first.

He let out a short chuckle. I couldn't believe myself either that I would try to hit on someone while on a freaking funeral. "Well, I'm an atheist so I don't believe in any of that." And with a sly smile, he continued, "Wanna come over to my place?"