Post by jesterslaugh on Apr 7, 2007 18:12:05 GMT -5
Coincidence, literally defined to be a striking occurrence of two or more events at one time apparently by mere chance. Things occur everyday of this nature, you meet an old friend at the grocery store, you forget your keys and by walking back into your house you answer the phone and are told that you don’t need to come into work, you drop your cell phone and when you bend down to pick it up somebody slams into you and trips and they turn out to be a robber on the run. But are all these things truly chance, or is there a higher power controlling them, Fate if you will. If so Fate is a very powerful thing, determining where our lives will go, and that would mean that everything is predetermined. If so than none of our actions really matter, so the only true thing that matters is how we react to what Fate throws at us.
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The sun is bright and yet its cold, the sun actually seems to be mocking us all with its brightness. The wind ruffles my coat, blowing it open, but I don’t try and close it, I continue to stare at the sign on the gate, knowing I have to go in. Though knowing the fact doesn’t make it any easier, I keep staring and finally find the ability to make my legs move and I walk by the sign and into the graveyard. I keep to path passing tombstone after tombstone, people’s mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends. Some graves have flowers on them, others have ugly ornaments, some have so much stuff on them its almost impossible to see the name on the stone, I keep my pace quick and deliberate, I do however notice quickly that the graveyard appears to be completely empty, if I was a person easily scared I would say this is creepy, but I’ve been scarier places in my life. I quickly come to the large oak tree where the path splits, but instead of taking either of the paths, I walk around the tree and come to a bare headstone, no flowers or ornaments, an ugly grey at that, at the top it says “Christian” in large letters, I let my eyes drop down slowly to the names in the middle. “Doris 1935-1998” and “Frank 1940-1998” I drop down to my knees and wipe off dirt and brush away some stray leaves.
Dane: Hi guys, how you been, I probably look like a crazy person sitting in front of your tombstone talking to you. Hopefully you two are looking down from up there and listening to me though.
The wind is gusting hard now, and I feel a tear start to form in the corner of my eye. I wipe it away quickly, and zip my coat.
Dane: I miss you mom, you were always so strong, and you always believed in me. You were the only person who ever gave me any hope about myself. And I know mothers are supposed to love their sons, but you really did no matter what dumb thing I did, or how many times the cops brought me home. I’m so sorry about the accident, it was my fault, if I would of just come to the airport to get you two you would still be here today, and everything would be different.
The tears are flowing down my cheeks quickly now, my face is freezing from the wind, but I can’t stop myself from crying
Dane: Dad. I know I always let you down, I was never quite the son you thought I would be, I was always dragging our good name through the mud. But dad, I’m trying real hard now, I’m even going to be on TV this week, and I’m going to do you proud. I’m going to show you that I am not a disappointment, I’m going to win this week. Not truly for you, but for myself, but I want you to watch from up there, and I want you to know that I am your son, and that I haven’t thrown my life away.
My tears have dried up finally and I slowly stand up, I set down a white orchid on top of the gravestone, and slowly begin to walk away from the gravestone. The wind suddenly picks up again, and my bus pass flies out of my pocket, and the wind begins to carry it, I quickly turn around and begin to run after it. Without that I am screwed, no way to get home or anywhere for that matter. I dodge gravestone after gravestone, I hit a planter that is in front of a gravestone and the dirt and flowers explode everywhere, the wind finally slows and my bus pass glides gently onto the ground. I laugh a bit and bend down to pick it up, but I slowly realize where I am. I turn and look at the tombstone, and I stumble backwards in surprise.
Dane: This can’t be, of any gravestone why did I have to end up here.
I stagger back forwards and grab onto the top of the tombstone and bow my head, my stomach retching. I slowly read the inscription on the tombstone, “Stacy Lynn Maxwell 1977-2000: Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend, You will never be forgotten.” I feel sick as I read it, I almost begin to cry again, but instead my legs give out and I fall to my knees in front of the tombstone.
Dane: I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe what he did to you
I run my fingers over her name, flashes of memory begin flying through my head, the blood, her body, the cops. My world begins to spin, and I have to grab back onto the tombstone to steady myself. I feel like I’m about to puke.
Voice: Hello?
The sweet sound of a little girls voice from behind me brings me back to reality. I use the tombstone and stand up slowly and turn around slowly to look at her. She is a pretty little girl, I would guess around 9 years old, she is carrying a black stuffed dog, clutching it closely to her chest.
Dane: Hi there.
Little Girl: Are you alright mister?
Dane: Oh yah, I just was tired. I had to chase my bus pass cause the wind caught it, and I just needed to rest a minute.
Little Girl: Oh…
She steps forward and touches Stacy’s tombstone, little tears in her eyes.
Little Girl: I thought maybe you had known my sister.
My stomach retches again. How could I of not recognized her, well it has been 7 years. She was only a baby the last time I saw her. Oh what was her name…..Kimberly, there we go. Oh god she looks just like Stacy. I look at this adorable little girl touching the tombstone of her dead sister, crying. My world is spinning and I grab onto a near by tombstone.
Dane: No, I didn’t know her.
Kimberly: She died a long time ago, something bad happened to her, my mommy won’t tell me what it was, but she says a bad man is responsible.
I feel sick listening to her, something is tugging at my brain though as I listen to her. Kimberly keeps talking, as I try and figure out why my brain is flashing warning signs.
Kimberly:…But I really don’t know who to blame, maybe if you ask my mommy she will tell you, she brings me here every couple months to leave another stuffed animal for my sister….
The warning signs in my brain suddenly make sense, and turn around to see Mrs. Sarah Lynn Maxwell, I look right into her eyes, and they say it all. There is no doubt that she recognizes me, as her eyes become fire, and she begins to storm straight at me. I panic, and begin backing up.
Sarah: WHAT THE
DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING HERE! YOU GET AWAY FROM HERE! YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!
I go to respond but my mouth has the consistency of a tar and I can’t make words come out, she keeps storming towards me, and I do the only thing that I can do. I turn around and I run, as I’m running I hear here talking to Kimberly, I turn around and look back at her hugging Kimberly, she looks right at me again.
Sarah: YOU GET AWAY FROM HERE! IF I EVER SEE YOU HERE AGAIN, I’LL KILL YOU!
I begin to turn around, but my mouth begins to run without any help from my brain.
Dane: It wasn’t me, and someday I’ll prove that to you. You’ll see, everybody will see.
I shut myself up and quickly begin running for the front gates.
Fin
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The sun is bright and yet its cold, the sun actually seems to be mocking us all with its brightness. The wind ruffles my coat, blowing it open, but I don’t try and close it, I continue to stare at the sign on the gate, knowing I have to go in. Though knowing the fact doesn’t make it any easier, I keep staring and finally find the ability to make my legs move and I walk by the sign and into the graveyard. I keep to path passing tombstone after tombstone, people’s mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends. Some graves have flowers on them, others have ugly ornaments, some have so much stuff on them its almost impossible to see the name on the stone, I keep my pace quick and deliberate, I do however notice quickly that the graveyard appears to be completely empty, if I was a person easily scared I would say this is creepy, but I’ve been scarier places in my life. I quickly come to the large oak tree where the path splits, but instead of taking either of the paths, I walk around the tree and come to a bare headstone, no flowers or ornaments, an ugly grey at that, at the top it says “Christian” in large letters, I let my eyes drop down slowly to the names in the middle. “Doris 1935-1998” and “Frank 1940-1998” I drop down to my knees and wipe off dirt and brush away some stray leaves.
Dane: Hi guys, how you been, I probably look like a crazy person sitting in front of your tombstone talking to you. Hopefully you two are looking down from up there and listening to me though.
The wind is gusting hard now, and I feel a tear start to form in the corner of my eye. I wipe it away quickly, and zip my coat.
Dane: I miss you mom, you were always so strong, and you always believed in me. You were the only person who ever gave me any hope about myself. And I know mothers are supposed to love their sons, but you really did no matter what dumb thing I did, or how many times the cops brought me home. I’m so sorry about the accident, it was my fault, if I would of just come to the airport to get you two you would still be here today, and everything would be different.
The tears are flowing down my cheeks quickly now, my face is freezing from the wind, but I can’t stop myself from crying
Dane: Dad. I know I always let you down, I was never quite the son you thought I would be, I was always dragging our good name through the mud. But dad, I’m trying real hard now, I’m even going to be on TV this week, and I’m going to do you proud. I’m going to show you that I am not a disappointment, I’m going to win this week. Not truly for you, but for myself, but I want you to watch from up there, and I want you to know that I am your son, and that I haven’t thrown my life away.
My tears have dried up finally and I slowly stand up, I set down a white orchid on top of the gravestone, and slowly begin to walk away from the gravestone. The wind suddenly picks up again, and my bus pass flies out of my pocket, and the wind begins to carry it, I quickly turn around and begin to run after it. Without that I am screwed, no way to get home or anywhere for that matter. I dodge gravestone after gravestone, I hit a planter that is in front of a gravestone and the dirt and flowers explode everywhere, the wind finally slows and my bus pass glides gently onto the ground. I laugh a bit and bend down to pick it up, but I slowly realize where I am. I turn and look at the tombstone, and I stumble backwards in surprise.
Dane: This can’t be, of any gravestone why did I have to end up here.
I stagger back forwards and grab onto the top of the tombstone and bow my head, my stomach retching. I slowly read the inscription on the tombstone, “Stacy Lynn Maxwell 1977-2000: Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend, You will never be forgotten.” I feel sick as I read it, I almost begin to cry again, but instead my legs give out and I fall to my knees in front of the tombstone.
Dane: I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe what he did to you
I run my fingers over her name, flashes of memory begin flying through my head, the blood, her body, the cops. My world begins to spin, and I have to grab back onto the tombstone to steady myself. I feel like I’m about to puke.
Voice: Hello?
The sweet sound of a little girls voice from behind me brings me back to reality. I use the tombstone and stand up slowly and turn around slowly to look at her. She is a pretty little girl, I would guess around 9 years old, she is carrying a black stuffed dog, clutching it closely to her chest.
Dane: Hi there.
Little Girl: Are you alright mister?
Dane: Oh yah, I just was tired. I had to chase my bus pass cause the wind caught it, and I just needed to rest a minute.
Little Girl: Oh…
She steps forward and touches Stacy’s tombstone, little tears in her eyes.
Little Girl: I thought maybe you had known my sister.
My stomach retches again. How could I of not recognized her, well it has been 7 years. She was only a baby the last time I saw her. Oh what was her name…..Kimberly, there we go. Oh god she looks just like Stacy. I look at this adorable little girl touching the tombstone of her dead sister, crying. My world is spinning and I grab onto a near by tombstone.
Dane: No, I didn’t know her.
Kimberly: She died a long time ago, something bad happened to her, my mommy won’t tell me what it was, but she says a bad man is responsible.
I feel sick listening to her, something is tugging at my brain though as I listen to her. Kimberly keeps talking, as I try and figure out why my brain is flashing warning signs.
Kimberly:…But I really don’t know who to blame, maybe if you ask my mommy she will tell you, she brings me here every couple months to leave another stuffed animal for my sister….
The warning signs in my brain suddenly make sense, and turn around to see Mrs. Sarah Lynn Maxwell, I look right into her eyes, and they say it all. There is no doubt that she recognizes me, as her eyes become fire, and she begins to storm straight at me. I panic, and begin backing up.
Sarah: WHAT THE
DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING HERE! YOU GET AWAY FROM HERE! YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!I go to respond but my mouth has the consistency of a tar and I can’t make words come out, she keeps storming towards me, and I do the only thing that I can do. I turn around and I run, as I’m running I hear here talking to Kimberly, I turn around and look back at her hugging Kimberly, she looks right at me again.
Sarah: YOU GET AWAY FROM HERE! IF I EVER SEE YOU HERE AGAIN, I’LL KILL YOU!
I begin to turn around, but my mouth begins to run without any help from my brain.
Dane: It wasn’t me, and someday I’ll prove that to you. You’ll see, everybody will see.
I shut myself up and quickly begin running for the front gates.
Fin
