Imaginary

Take Me to the Grave

*****

Genre: Horror

*****

  Dirt covered my face, my mouth, heavy and cold, crumbling down my throat, but I couldn't close it. I couldn't close my eyes, they were glued open, beginning to glass and fade over.

  "Mom.....I'm....I'm so sorry...."

  "Shh. Don't talk. Not now, let's just.....let's just get this done first," my mother said, her face red, tears steaming down her face as she looked at me. Or at least she tried to not look, but she couldn't take her eyes off. And my dad, he didn't even speak. He couldn't, just got busy, got right to work, his mind was only on one thing at this moment. But I couldn't understand. How could they do this to me?

  Their shovels stabbed into the ground near them, grabbing more dirt and piling it onto me in the hole. In the grave they dug just moments ago, surrounded by woods in the deeper part.

  The silence just spread over us. No one spoke, except the wind that whistled through the trees. And their shovels hitting harder patches of dirt and mud. But by the second things began to get muffled, blurry, my sight was covered. Every limb was weighed down by the heavy, unmoving dirt, the twigs and leaves that crunched and snapped by me with every pile poured and chucked onto me.

  "What.....what are we going to do?" my sister asked, who still stood by our parents dumbfound, she didn't know what to do. By this time all I saw was darkness, but her voice was upset, choked up as tears filled her eyes. But I wasn't hurt for her; I didn't feel for her, no sympathy inside me at all. Not even for my parents who were burying one of their twin daughters. I was disgusted.

  How can she be sad? She isn't, this is all just a game to her. She's just trying to fool them. She's happy I'm gone, she's happy I'm dead. She killed me after all, this is all because of her. Do they know it yet? Do they know this wasn't an accident like she claims? They knew how much she hated me. They have to know, right? But if they knew then why are they trying to cover it up? Why are they protecting her? She's crazy! She needs to be locked up! That psychotic bitch! She just wanted me gone, her competition. They all must know that, right?

  How could my own parents do this to me? How could they just cover this all up? Don't they care for me at all? They're ok with just burying me in the woods? Where no one will find me? Where I will rot away, stuck in my own body, unable to leave and watch myself decompose away in the ground? What will they tell people? That I just ran away or went missing or something? Maybe living with a relative? What will others think?

  Sure, they will all play the victims, everyone will fall for it, grieve for them, pity them, feel sorry, yet they're the ones that killed me. They don't deserve that. They deserve the cruelty they are putting me through right now.

  I used to feel love for them. I used to love them so much. Especially my mother, the two of us always doing things together. Always talking, always staying up late watching movies on the couch in the living room. Whenever she was in the room there was this energy that just radiated off of her. This love, I felt it all over, even more when she looked at me. And I remember most that I loved her more than anything else. This warm feeling always present. But there wasn't that love anymore. All I felt was coldness from her, as she piled more dirt on top of me. There wasn't that warm feeling inside of me anymore. Every feeling drained from me the deeper my sister stabbed that knife into me, like my life was draining before my eyes, as well as all my feelings. And when I woke up again, everything felt different. I was different, I didn't feel a thing. No feeling, inside or out.

  My skin turned cold, white and grey in front of me eyes. The blood pouring out of me, my veins beginning to grow more prominent. My dark hair turned the colour of the dirt, almost black, no pigment at all as tangles lied within. I was more stiff, I couldn't move so easily. I couldn't move at all, no matter how much I wanted to.