Tombstone Valentine

‘Here lies Caleb Anthony Jacobs, whose time on Earth was very short.

July 18th, 1986 - February 14th, 2006

A lover, a fighter, a silver lining. A brave soul, who died for his love. He will be missed terribly.’

You run your fingers over the embossed lettering, as you sit beside the grave, not minding whatever dirt makes it’s way onto the dress you’re wearing. You read and then re-read the words you already know by heart, muttering them under your breath.

“Cale, I’m wearing the dress,” you tell the tombstone, knowing that he won’t answer, but still hoping he will. “Remember the white one I wore? It always made me feel like an angel, especially around you...” You trail off your sentence, looking down at yourself. The dress and shoes from years back are what you wear.

The dress that used to be so beautiful is now just the tattered remains of what it used to be. The white tulle fabric that used to cling to you in just the right way now hangs limp, tears all over the skirt. Dried blood, a brown color, stains bits and pieces of the tulle, while the faint remains of brown dirt cover the top part of the dress. The ribbon that was once tied around your waist is torn to shreds, not even present. And then the simple white sandals encasing your feet, the ribbons that used to tie them up also gone.

The time is nearing 9:00 P.M., but you don’t care. You don’t care that everyone is already gone. You don’t care that it’s already dark out. You don’t care that you’re surrounded by buried corpses. You don’t care that for most of the day, people stared at you, the fragile woman sitting in an all white dress, talking to a grave. You just don’t care. All you care about is being near him.

It’s the anniversary of that night, his death. February 14th. Valentine’s Day. And you remember everything perfectly, vividly, as if it’d only happened days ago, as if the nightmares were still plaguing your nights. No, it’s been years, three to be exact. No, the nightmares vanished when you’d started taking those pills. The magic medicine that had taken all of your pain away.

Yet, the memories are still there. The nightmares were gone, but that night plays back to you during the hours you’re awake, when you’re most vulnerable. It’s as if this is all just an extremely realistic movie, each scene taunting you. You know that it happened. The words are there in front of you, proving to you that it all happened. It isn’t just a movie, a cruel movie.

And this is the point when the memories start flooding back to you, throwing you into the worst flashback imaginable.

You remember slipping into the angelic dress, lacing up your sandals, and letting the curls in your hair spill over your shoulders. You remember the small amount of makeup you used. You remember the three knocks on your apartment door, signaling his arrival. You remember running to the door, ecstatic to see him.

“Cale!” you remember yourself exclaiming, embracing him right as the door swung open.

You remember him exclaiming your name back at you, but in a manly way; “Annie!” He had wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to himself, before saying, “Let’s get going then.”

He had taken you to a nice restaurant, for a Valentine’s Day dinner. Then he had planned on taking a walk in the park, something he knew you would enjoy. Hand in hand, the two of you had started walking when there was a disturbance. Whipping your head around, you looked around frantically, wondering what the noise could’ve been. Out of nowhere, you see a figure. What comes next is the worst...

Terror shoots through you as you move closer to Caleb, gripping the sleeve of his button up shirt. You want to whisper something to him, ask what’s going on, but you can’t. You’re mute from the fear. Caleb starts to move backwards, taking you with him. Before he gets the idea to pick you up and just run, something else happens. The foreign figure nears you and you see that he has something in his hands.

If you could, you would’ve asked this person who they were, but you just can’t. The light from the moon flashes, and you see a male face that you vaguely remember... You just can’t place a name with the face.

“Annabelle...” the man says, walking closer still. You now know who this is... It was someone who your father had done business with, maybe a year or so back. But why was he here? And why was there a... a knife in his hands? A knife. What was going on?

Before you have time to think of something, anything to do, you feel hands on your shoulders, pushing you backwards. You fall into Caleb, both of you tumbling into the grass.

“Your father was too cheap way back when, and now you’ll have to be the one paying the price,” he says with venom in his tone. Your eyes widen and this is when Caleb pulls himself up, advancing towards the other man to fight. You jump up, rushing to his side, not wanting him to be hurt.

Of course Caleb isn’t the one he wants. This doesn’t stop the man from socking him right in the face though, bringing him to the ground.

You’re grabbed by your neck now, losing your breath, as he uses his knife to basically examine your body, tearing up your dress in the process. You’re kicking him, trying to fight back, receiving cuts on your legs from the knife, still gasping for air. They’re only flesh wounds though.

Caleb is up again now, fighting the man to get you safe again. You’re dropped soon, gasping for air, and you curl up, but tears seem impossible right now. The sound of cloth tearing is heard, followed by a yell. Then, the ‘thud’ sound of his body hitting the ground. These three noises bring your head up to see that Caleb is on the ground once more, agonized sounds emitting from him.

“What’s going on here?!” a shrill woman’s voice shouts, from not far away. You soon hear shouts from other people, and there are sounds of people shouting for help, probably calling 9-1-1. It’s then that the man who had hurt Caleb runs away.

Although it hurts, you crawl over to where Caleb is, clutching the place where his heart is. Placing a delicate hand over his larger hands. Tears are streaming down your face as you press yourself closer to him, begging and pleading for him to stay alive. Caleb is silent, save for the deep breaths he’s forced to take and the moans of pain.

A crowd is around you, with the police cars and ambulances arriving soon after. Not soon enough. “Ann... I... love... y-ou,” he gasps out, taking his last breaths before his eyes glaze over.

“No!” you shout. “No, no, no!” You’re sobbing uncontrollably now, kissing the now dead Caleb, trying to somehow make him live again. At this point you’re being wrestled away from him, so that he can be taken away. You put up the biggest fight you can, but this doesn’t stop them from separating the two of you.

You’re crying now, remembering this horrid memory as you sit beside Caleb’s tombstone. Valentine’s Day is said to be a romantic day, a happy day. It used to be this way, but not anymore... At least not for you. You’re hugging the cold marble now, trying to remember how it felt to have Caleb’s arms around you.

“Cale... I miss you so bad,” you whisper, your voice cracking every now and again. “I can hardly go on without you... It should’ve been me. Cale... I love you.”

This is your ritual. Every year on the 14th of February, ever since Caleb was buried, you visit the cemetery and sit by this grave, crying and talking to Caleb. He never answers, but you still speak with him.

Not worrying about what dirt or germs might be on the tombstone, you kiss the marble, leaning your forehead on it afterwards. You barely feel the cold air of February, you barely feel anything. It’s as if nothing else matters, but sitting here with the grave of Caleb.

You wonder if it’s going to be this way every single year; crying about Caleb, talking to Caleb, hugging and kissing his grave, and then falling asleep (something that hasn’t happened just yet). Will you ever get over your first love? It’s highly unlikely. Nobody can make you feel like Caleb did. He was always there for you, he always made you feel beautiful and special, he even died for you. And then more tears fall from your eyes while you remember the good times you had with him.

Soon the feeling of fatigue washes over you as your eyes start to blink drowsily, closing eventually. Sleep overcomes you and you fall limp beside the grave, your arms still around the tombstone. It was a long day of reminiscing and mourning. A tiring day.

Another Valentine’s Day has finished for you, the same way as every other year since that night. Will it ever change? Will you ever be happy again? Never. They say a piece of you dies when you lose somebody you love. You died completely without Caleb, except not physically.

And then another Valentine’s Day evening has passed when you awaken the next morning, salt water dried on your face. You sigh, before standing up and looking down at the tombstone. “Until next year my love...” you whisper, before leaving the resting place of Caleb Jacobs, the one person who ever had your heart.