Grave Rock: Cemetery Stones

Nine Months Later

Nine months later and it happened. I got the news that Benji had died. There was nothing that could prepare me for that morning. I sometimes think I never woke up and this was all a dream. I keep writing down what happens in hopes one day someone might make sense of it.

Tye had left for work and I was busy cleaning the kitchen when I heard a knock at the door. The dogs started barking and they would not stop. I think they knew something bad had happened. Answering the door I found a well dressed girl on the other side.

She had a face full of tears and I almost slammed the door when I saw what was in her arms. It was a gravestone. One of the same ones from before with those eerie yellow etchings. It was Benji's cousin. They told me he had died and left this behind with a note to find Tye and myself.

Again there was the urge to slam the door on her but instead I let her in. She put the stone on the counter and collapsed on the couch. Between heavy sobs and more tears she told me the story of what happened to Benji. Apparently she was the one to find the remains of my friend.

It was like something had eaten him. They left only bones and chunks of meat behind. This poor girl was a wreck and I tried to tell her she didn't need to tell me all the details but she insisted. Once she got to the letter it was clear why.

Benji had left instructions behind and the story of the gravestones. His cousin gave me the note written in his messy handwriting and I read it. I wish I hadn't but I knew I needed to. The stone was left on his doorstep. When he tried to return it, it came back.

He sent it by mail, hand delivered it, and still the stone returned. Benji even said he tried to smash it. The stone would not break. So he gave in. He waited for the laughter and the footsteps to begin again. They didn't. This time it was only silence.

As if all the air was being sucked out of the room, Benji would be surrounded by a painful quiet. And there in that nothingness he heard the creature. Grasping for words on raspy breaths and slithering towards him. If he was killed, he wanted us to find out why.

Benji did not want to be forgotten. He did not want to be like the others. He did not want to be forgotten. I wouldn't let that happen. Terence wouldn't either. We both decided to traverse back to Glenwood and find some answers.

We have only just arrived and I already feel that same heavy dread as before. I will continue to write down the events as they unfold in hopes someone can one day make sense of it all. For now there is no dreaming, just thoughts of lost loved ones and the gravestones refusing to be forgotten. The man no one can see but can see me is in the corner. He is whispering something to himself and I can almost make out the words.