Back to Life...for Death?

The Nineteenth Century

The twenty-seventh of July 1827

It was late afternoon when I recieved the news. Someone had knocked on the door of my house.
So, naturally, I went downstairs and opened it. I was blissfully unaware of the shock the person would have in store for me.
"Are you Miss Annabelle Elynor?" asked a man, his horse not too far behind him.
"Yes, sir. Is there something wrong?" I replied with a warm smile.
“I have a message for you." He extended his arm, holding out a white piece of card.
Written neatly in black ink were the words:

Miss Annabelle Elynor Sky,

We are unhappy to inform you of the death of Sir William Edward Night. His body was found at midnight and we would like you to arrange his funeral, as his fiancée.
We extend our sympathies for your loss.

Sir Frederick Laurence Green.

I had been his fiancée for two years, as our parents had desired. I was grateful for the match, because, in my heart, I truly did love him. Our wedding was supposed to be a month later, on the eleventh of August. In its place, was William’s funeral.

The eleventh of August 1827

The priest said his words, and the coffin was lowered into the ground. I managed to hold my tears as I threw the first amount of dirt on top, but I did not wish to place my flowers on the covered grave until after everyone else did. I didn't want people to see my tears. Grieving, was a very private ordeal for me.

Eventually, everyone left and I finally fell to my knees, staring blankly at the name carved into the headstone.
"William Edward Night, how could you do this to me?" I cried, my hands clutching the top of the headstone. "How could you give up like this? You swore you would never leave me alone!" I shrieked. My body was shaking with sorrow, and a sense of betrayal.

I could hear footsteps approaching, so I quickly removed my hands from the headstone, and covered my face with them.
"Why will you not stand up?" A male voice called sweetly from behind me. "It is not proper for a lady to sit on the ground," he continued. He walked around to the side of me and I removed my hands from my face. He offered me a hand, which I took and he pulled me up. I didn’t look at his face, and kept my gaze to the ground. My eyes were full of tears anyway, and my vision was slightly blurred because of it.

“There you go,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Thank you, sir,” I answered quietly. My voice was a mere croak at the moment, so I was confined to whispering when I did speak. I knew the feeling of his hand in mine – faintly. His touch was gentle, but the cold of his skin scared me. The latter was, unfortunately, an afterthought. I wasn’t exactly in a state where I could heed this warning.