Gravestone

I remember entering the forest at midday for a quiet stroll, but I had somehow lost track of time. I couldn’t stop my feet from moving. It was like they knew where they were taking me, but I didn’t care. I just walked and walked and walked. I suddenly woke from my trance feeling lost and confused. I did not know for how long or how far I had wandered into the forest when I reached the cemetery.

It was dark now and the full moon was shining cold light upon the forest from high above. Despite most of the trees being completely devoid of leaves, the cemetery was almost completely hidden from outside view. A suspicious grey fog ran along the ground, sending a chill up my spine. As I turned to leave this creepy place, movement caught my eye.

There, in a night dark as a crow’s feather, stood a girl with skin the colour of newly fallen snow. She stood there, silently, in a dress the same deep red as that of freshly spilt blood. I could not see her face, but somehow I knew she was beautiful. I was mesmerised by her shiny black hair flowing in the breeze, and the way she just stood there like a porcelain doll with long elegant legs and a slim neck. She simply stood there staring deep into the night. I watched her from afar unable to move or speak. Somehow I was terrified and calm at the same time. Her mere presence made me feel like the world did not

She simply stood there staring deep into the night. I watched her from afar unable to move or speak. Somehow I was terrified and calm at the same time. Her mere presence made me feel like the world did not matter. Like all the confusion and doubt just vaporised and was swept away by the wind.

She turned her head and met my eyes, revealing a calm and familiar face. I knew that I had never met her before, and yet she made me feel like I had known her my entire life. She assured me that everything would be fine, that all the pieces would fall into place and I would no longer be tormented be confusion and doubt. She stretched out a delicate white hand towards me, and my feet started moving on their own. I suddenly felt a deep need to take her hand and go with her, not caring or thinking about where she would lead me. She made me want to let go of everything I used to know, and so I went with her.

When I realised who she was, it was too late.

I finally remembered what had happened In the woods, but I had already taken her hand, and could not bring myself to let go of it. She led me through the cemetery in a slow but firm manner. She came to a halt at a newly dug grave with a brand new stone on which was a name was written in fresh paint. I did not even need to look at the letters to know what was written there, for back in the woods, my life had ended. Yet knowing what was written, my eyes sought to confirm my fears, and thus, on a dark winter’s night, I read on a gravestone in curvy black letters my name.

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