Stumbling Upon a Stranger's Grave

Vic’s POV
Am I going crazy?

I sighed at the thought as I listened to my iPod that night. I mean, going crazy was the only reasonable option to explain the boy I saw this afternoon. Unless it was a….

No.

I was no psychic; I can’t see the dead. I don’t believe in that kind of stuff, anyway.

I glanced over at my little brother, sleeping peacefully as I stressed.

I wasn’t going to talk anymore. At. All.

What if I let it slip that I heard and saw someone at the cemetery, and there wasn’t anything there?

I don’t want to end up in a mental asylum.

Even if I needed it.

I decided that I was going to go back tomorrow. I was going to see if I was imagining things…

And I was going alone.

If something happened, I didn’t want Mike to know.
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I took a deep breath as I stood in front of the gates. Did I really want to do this? What if I saw something that confirmed that I was crazy?

“Suck it up," I whispered to myself. “Stop being such a baby. Just open the gate, and walk in.

Oh yeah, what I said about not talking? I’ll talk to myself when I’m alone. I want my voice to be normal when I finally decide to speak to people again.

I stepped in, looking around cautiously to make sure that no one was there. I let out a sigh of relief, confirming that I was alone…all alone…

I walked forward towards…Kellin’s grave, where I saw the boy yesterday. I took a deep breath, feeling ridiculous for what I was about to do.

“Um, hello?" I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I was nearly inaudible, but I kept going. “Is anybody here? I’ll tell you who I am if you tell me who you are…"

I waited a few minutes, then turned to leave. I knew this was stupid. I don’t believe in this stuff anyway…

“Wait! I’m here, just turn around!"

I froze in shock. It was the same voice I heard yesterday.

“I’m fucking crazy," I breathed as I turned slowly with my eyes closed. “I’ve lost my damn mind…"

The voice chuckled.

"You’re cute, not crazy. Just open your eyes."

I was hesitant to do what the voice said, but I did anyway. I gasped quietly when I saw the boy in front of me.

It was the same boy from yesterday, but I could see him better now. I was shocked at how…perfect he was.

He had black hair and pale skin, as I noticed yesterday. But I was surprised because of his eyes. They were beautiful, a blue-green color…

“You-you’re the boy I saw yesterday…" I breathed, then rubbed my eyes. “Am I dreaming?"

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yes, I am," he responded gleefully. “You’re truly adorable. No, you’re not dreaming."

“What are you?" I mouthed, in disbelief. He was real….I think?

“Pardon?" he asked, frowning a bit.

“Sorry…what are you?" I tried to ask in a normal voice, but it cracked. I hoped he didn’t notice.

“Oh! I’m a ghos-"

I immediately covered my ears, closing my eyes tightly. “If I don’t hear, it’s not true. If I don’t hear it, it’s not true!" I repeated. Still, he continued.

“I’m a ghost. I died in 1932."

I opened my eyes, looking at him. “So this is real?" I mumbled. “I can see you?"

He nodded, looking at me cautiously.

“You’re not about to faint, are you? You look pale," he commented.

“I don’t think so," I gasped, sitting on the ground. He sat next to me. “Holy shit. Well, since I’ve apparently lost my mind and can see ghosts, I’m-"

“I know who you are," he interrupted, causing me to look at him in disbelief.

"You’re Vic, right?" he questioned, smiling. His smile took my breath away.

“Um, y-yeah," I whispered. “Who are you?"

“My name is Kellin. Kellin Quinn Bostwick."

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Kellin’s POV

“So you’re telling me that I’m not crazy and you’re real, right?” Vic asked, now standing again with shaky knees, a puzzled look on his face.

I nodded once again, “Basically, yeah.”

He stood there for a moment and then muttered, “Yep, I’ve gone fucking nuts.”

I came closer, waving my hand in his face, “You’re not crazy, I swear. This is actually only the second time someone’s seen me, and the first I’ve been able to hold a conversation with someone.”

He sighed, sitting down once more and rubbing his temples.

“Who was the first to see you?” he asked, now meeting my eyes.

“My sister, Annabelle.” I responded, remembering the day she came to visit. “It was a few days after her wedding, and she was telling me every detail. I’d missed my little sister’s wedding, and I hated it. That was the last day I saw her. I called out her name…”

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**Flashback**

“I wish you could hear me.” I wept, standing in front of her.

“…You’d like him Kelly! Sometimes he even reminds me of you.” She said smiling through her tears.

I’d never said her name. Something felt like it was holding me back until now.

“Belles, I’m so happy for you, and I love you and miss you so much.”

She gasped, staring at my ghostly, now visible figure.

“K-Kellin?” she cried, shaking her head.

“It’s me –“

She rubbed her eyes, blinking, “Where did you go? Come back!”

I was now, once again, invisible.

Collapsing on my grave, she wept for hours, reminiscing, knowing that I could hear her, and I listened until she left, wiping her tear-stained cheeks.

“What happened?” he asked, a look of sadness filling his mocha eyes.

I looked at the grave to the left of mine, reading it for the billionth time.

Annabelle Clara Bostwick

Loving Daughter and Wife

1925-1948

“She died the week after. Shot by her new husband.” I replied, my voice cracking on the last word.

His jaw dropped looking to her grave.

“That’s – that’s terrible, Kellin. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, so am I.” I replied, a tear escaping.

After all this time – decades it had been since I last cried, and this boy comes along and gets my emotions to form once again. So many long, lonely years and of all the people, I’m able to say his name. What are the odds? I sure hope he sticks around, though.

I decided it was my turn to ask questions, “Why are you so quiet around your brother?”

He looked, guilty… almost ashamed.

“It’s just that I’ve always had a rough time with people. I’ve been hurt a lot and it’s taken a toll on me.”

I frowned, “So you punish your family for the pain others have caused you?”

“N-No! I don’t mean it that way! It’s just that, I figure if I don’t speak, I won’t be judged by my thoughts or my appearance any longer… Maybe I’ll just disappear….” Sadness flooded his face as he stared at the hands in his lap.

I understood, I’d been alone for what seemed like centuries, but it’s a different alone from what humans feel. It’s an everlasting loneliness that you could only obtain in death.

“You do not want to be invisible, Vic. Being invisible is so lonely and cold. It’s like being in this sort of, bubble that you can’t burst and no one can ever hear you. The silence is so loud that it drowns you, sucking out the hope you once had. It hurts, and I see it worming its way into your heart.”

He looked to me again, tears filling his eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you.” I replied, remembering the last thing I heard my father say when I was alive.

‘No, he leaves in the morning. I can’t believe you’re siding with him, Helena. Maybe you and the rest of these kids are just as worthless as him.’

My head snapped up, hearing the gate’s signature creak.

“Hey, Vic! Mom and dad want you home.”

He looked at me, panicked and jumped up to greet his brother.

“Only you can see and hear me.”

He nodded quickly, whispering, “See you when I can come back?”

“Sure.” I responded, watching them leave.

He’s so quiet. Hopefully I’ll get more out of him soon.

I promptly sat on my headstone, wondering how he’s connected to me and why I felt comfortable telling him just about anything…