One night I stayed up until the sun rose just to see if they would still be there. Three cloaked figures stood outside my home, and even though their faces were hidden I knew they were watching me watch them. The sun was only moments away from touching their bodies, but not before they disappeared from sight. So they do disappear at sunrise, I thought to myself.
For the past week, every day as I walk home from school I encounter them. Recently I’ve found myself being bullied by a gang of girls on my normal trek home, but grew fed up with the beatings. Of course I could stand up to them, but they are known for jumping on just one person and sending them to the hospital. I didn’t want to suffer such a fate.
Instead of the normal route, I decided to walk through the cemetery that cut through to my house. It was completely isolated except for a squirrel that runs about every now and again. Street lights eerily illuminated the abandoned home of the dead as I slowly walked through. There was a moment where I thought I heard something behind me. Of course I turned about asking if anyone was there, but no answer. My pace quickened as I continued until I heard a moan.
It sounded as if it was right next to my ear, but I didn’t check. Without a second thought I took off running and skipped out on the cement path I was on. Dead tree limbs and broken stones were littered throughout the cemetery. It was almost as if they were placed out to slow me down, and that’s when I tripped over one. The only thing that awaited me next was darkness.
I came to when it was fully dark out. I’m not sure if it was the chill in the air or the brightness of the street lights that brought me to, but my head felt like it was split in half. After gathering myself I made my way through the cemetery forgetting what transpired before I woke up. No matter how hard I tried to remember, the last thing I remember is walking home from school.
The sound of a twig snapping behind me caused me to pause and look behind me. Three cloaked figures standing over six feet tall stood behind me. It almost looked like they were floating. As weird as it was, I didn’t feel like they were going to hurt me. I said hello and received no response so I quickly returned to my trek home.
They followed me the entire way. When I got home my parents were sitting at the dinner table eating. My mother kept glancing at the clock and sighing. I said hello to them, but neither looked up to answer me so I went ahead to prepare for school tomorrow.
I’m not sure what caused me to look out the window, but I did and found them standing there facing my house. Without much thought about their actions, I went to bed. I didn’t find them there when I ran out the house for school the next morning.
Throughout this entire week I noticed that I had somewhat became invisible. The neighborhood girls no longer bullied me, teachers didn’t call out to me, and my parents acted as if I wasn’t there. Most of the time I saw my mother crying alone, and my father had started drinking. Even though I tried to talk to them to see what was going on, I was ignored. And every day that I walked through the cemetery on the way home I’d be followed by the three cloaked figures.
They never spoke to me, yet I felt like they somehow communicated to one another without speaking a word. I was starting to feel left out of life a bit, and decided to go out and confront the figures later on. Never once did I think that tonight would be when my world would fall apart.
Standing in my front yard facing the figure in the middle I demanded to know what the hell was going on. My frustration was loud enough to have brought the neighbors and my parents outside, but that didn’t happen. The figure didn’t say anything, but it did motion for me to follow it.
They led me to the cemetery. We walked on the path for a few minutes before they ventured off to the area I had awoken from earlier this week. That’s where my actual body was. My legs were sprawled apart and it look as if one was broken. My eyes were open and unblinking with dried blood streaking my ashen face as my head laid on a broken tombstone.
I was dead. I was running when I tripped of a large tree branch breaking my leg and hitting my head against the edge of the tombstone. My parents were in mourning, and no one has been able to see me. The reality of it came crashing into me which resulted into tears streaming down my face.
One of the cloaked figures then turned to me, and held out a skeletal hand for me to take. I was to go with them now that I realized that I was no more. Without hesitation I followed them.
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