Six Feet Under

The crash of waves was music to my ears. I took a deep breath through my nose and held it in for a while before releasing it out my mouth.

"When can I see?" I asked a bit impatiently.

"Soon," Michael answered, still not removing his hands from over my eyes. He walked me forward over soft grass, then stone, and before I knew it he said, "You can look now" and backed away from me.

I blinked a couple of times to clear the fog in my vision, but then I saw. In front of me was a small house. At first I saw a flowers blooming all around the glowing white house. A bird chirped its song merrily from above. The place seemed to be full of life.

Then I really saw it. The house was more of a shack, with graying white paint chipping off. Weeds surrounded the place head to toe as vines made their way up the side. A crow screeched its brains out at me from the roof.

"Oh," I said.

Michael chuckled a little. "It needs work but...I'm sure we can come to call it home sooner than no time."

I leaned on him and whispered, "It's perfect."

His dark gray-blue eyes smiled down at me. He took my hand in his and pulled me up the stone path and into the house.

"Ta da!" he announced with a huge gesture of his arms, like he was the ringmaster of the greatest circus show around.

It was obvious that there hadn't been any residents in this place for quite some time. Dust coated every surface. There were white sheets over the furniture.

"It's just missing one thing," he said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a framed picture and set it on the shelf above the fireplace. It was a close-up picture of a couple in their late teens. The guy had wild blond hair that had yet to experience a buzz cut and wide eyes. He was looking straight ahead as the girl gazed up at him, green irises swimming with adoration.

I went up on the tips of my toes to reach Michael's mouth. He laughed lightly and met my lips with his own.

The next day I decided to get some much-needed yard work done. So on the gardening gloves went as I marched out the front door and tended the lawn. I yanked and groaned and pulled and moaned as I dealt with the unwanted weeds.

I had to pull twice as hard when I came across a plant that would not budge from where it rooted itself.

"You're doing great, darling!" laughed Michael as he snapped a few pictures of me sweating like a pig as I tore the sucker out of the dirt. In the process I uprooted a huge bush as well and flew backwards a few feet from the force. There was a rancid stench that filled the air.

I looked back at where I had pulled from and saw in place of the bush a pile of ravaged bones with bits of flesh still attached and a swarm of flies.

A blood curdling scream let loose from my throat.

"Joon, what is it?" Michael cried as he ran towards me. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me, but all I could do was look at the ground. His eyes followed mine and gasped when he saw.

I stayed inside the rest of the day, resigned in front of my laptop. The screen stayed vacant of any words for hours. My head rested in my hand as I thought about nothing yet everything.

It wasn't until I felt a hand on my back that I was pulled out of my trance.

"Hey, you alright?" Michael asked me. He held out a cup of hot chocolate. Smart boy. He remembered that I could not tolerate any coffee of the sort.

I looked around. I hadn't noticed, as for I was absorbed in my computer for the past couple hours, but the house had grown darker, and the only light was the glow of the million candles around the lying on shelves and any flat surface besides the floor. It was a sea of fire. The warmth of the light was calming though.

"I'm fine," I sighed as I took the mug he offered. I drank deeply.

"You know that wasn't a human," he said to me, "It was a deer." His tone sounded as if he was still trying to convince himself what it was. "It probably was hit by a truck passing by and stumbled into the yard to die."

I nodded, wanting to fully believe him, despite what my gut screamed at me.

Leave this place? The thought cross my mind in a flash, but I knew it was wrong. I was barely here for two days and I was already trying to leave. What would my mother say if she knew I wasn't even able to last a week? "I told you so"?

I sighed again and set my head against the table. I was unconscious within minutes. I drifted in and out and could idly feel myself being carried away and set on top of softer material.

"Goodnight, Joon," I could hear Michael whisper to me.

My dreams crawled with dark images of bones and crows.