week 3 of project

GRIEVANCE AND
GRAVE






INDEX

CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15



















CHAPTER 1

I was starring at my lifeless limp body. I don’t remember how it had happened, but there was no question about it, I was dead. Wondering how it all happened I try to recall my days events.
I came home that day from a long day of work. It seemed like any other day. Entering the kitchen I had placed by keys on the kitchen counter, and played with a pen while reading the mail. The pen was an A&A pen, which cost near the thousand dollar mark. I had never seen it before. But I knew that it had to be brand new.
As I was reading the mail, I felt a large pain coming through the back of my heart. It felt like a heart attack, but as soon as it came, it suddenly stopped. Must have been those cramps acting up again, so I decided to relax a little bit before having dinner.
I placed the pen down and walked over to the living room. Family Feud was about to start and I wanted to catch all the action before my wife came home. As I walked over to the living room, I glanced over at the picture of her. Her long brunette hair and those majestic blue ice eyes separated her from other women. In all other aspects, she was the average woman.
As I reached for the remote, I heard a noise upstairs in the bedroom. Slowly going up the wooden fifty year old stairs, I reached the top to find that the alarm clock had gone off, and that it knocked over a small vase imported from China.
I headed downstairs to try to clean the mess up, when I suddenly heard the car turn on in the garage. I sprinted as quickly and safely as I could through the small space of the house, using the shortcut through the office room instead of going straight through the kitchen. When I reached the garage, I saw a pair of people driving off in my Mazda down the street, and then around the corner.
I could not say what the people looked like since they were at a distance and wearing masks. I decided it would be best to go back inside and phone the police. Back inside the safety and serenity of the house, I headed for the phone. Outstretched, my arm grazed the phone as I went to pick it up. I tug on it and put my hand toward my ear, but unexpectedly the phone was still in the charger. I tried to pick it up again, but I could only touch the phone. The phone must have been stuck to the charger, so I headed to the living room.
I was still in the shock that I have been robbed. Maybe it was more than a car, what if they took some personal items from the house. Finally I reached the living room and once again, the phone seemed to be stuck to the charger. Now my heart-rate rose up on a steep incline as I was panicking of what I was supposed to do. I decided to try out the last phone left in the house, located in the kitchen. I walk over with a sense of unrest and nervousness and head into the kitchen. I go around the corner of the counter, when I saw something upon my feet. It was myself.

CHAPTER 2

I stare down at my body. My body is not like the usual position that you see in the movies, but more that it was bending up the kitchen counter. With my lifeless legs on the ground and my head on the side of the counter, my back was bent as if to the point of where my spine would snap. Maybe it did, who knows.
Now I feel no pain. Actually, I feel nothing as I am still in the shock stage. I search my body for the wound in which I was killed by. Then I remember the sharp pain that I had, and realized that I was actually dead all that time. I search my back again, but this time, near the back of the heart. Sure enough, there was a small hole leading through the heart in which a steady yet slow stream of blood was flowing out from.
I accepted the fate that I was killed, but still wanted to know who had done it. I would feel unsatisfied if I did not find the person that killed me. I head toward the garage in hope to find something that the murderer had left behind.
Not much searching was required, since I found a business card right after opening the door. I bend over to try to pick it up, but am not able to. I try again and again, but my finger just keeps on grasping the air above the card. I could still feel the card, but could not do anything to move it from its current position.
Maybe this is what it meant to be dead. Just like the phones, I cannot move any object, only touch them. I also wonder if it is the same with people. I may find out sooner than later, but I go down on all fours, and read the business card. All that is on the card is a horseshoe shape with a cross in the middle. I go back into the kitchen when I hear the main door open. I sat down on a seat in the kitchen and saw her enter.
“I’m home” she yells, directing it to the bedroom, thinking that I was there. She heads toward the kitchen and places the bag upon the counter. On the opposite side of the counter, my body is lying there. “What is that awful smell”, she portrays to herself. I try to also smell it with my nose, but I feel no scent. Maybe being dead took away your sense of smell.
She went around the kitchen counter following the scent until she came upon the body. She gasped and ran into the washroom. I heard crying coming from the washroom and tried to enter, but I just was able to touch the handle. When will I learn that I cannot move objects? It might take some time, but I must learn to cope with it someday, wont I?
She cried for what seemed to be a good long hour locked inside the washroom. I couldn’t take her sadness any more as it broke my heart. I’m speaking metaphorically of course, since my heart is wounded. I go towards the main door and remember that I cannot move things, so trying the doorknob would be a great big waste of time. I head over to the next and last way to leave the house, through the garage. I hear the phone being picked up and the beeping of a number, followed by two other identical ones. I knew who the call was to, it was going towards 9-1-1.
The door heading toward the garage was open, but the garage door itself was closed. Why did I even come, I knew that the garage door was an automatic door. Maybe I just wanted to do something to get away from my body, maybe from my wifes sadness, or maybe from something entirely else.
I hear a knocking at the front door and know that this is the police. They yell out, “this is the police” which confirmed my prediction. This might be my best chance to leave the house, right when they open the door. I run towards the hallway heading towards the main door, when I spot my wife doing the same, but in a normal pass. She held the hankerchief that used to be her fathers before he too passed away. Still sobbing from her crying earlier on, she opened the door reluctantly. Right when she opened the door, I snuck past her and got outside. The police officers headed inside and one of them bumped into me.
It was a weird sight to see. It was as if I was nothing to him, but he knocked me back on my feet. “Wow, this place gives me the shivers”, he said to one of his other partners as they entered inside. They closed the door behind them and that was when I realized it was just another beginning when I thought everything ended. I stood up and walked towards the park, recalling the days events over and over, hoping something would give me a clue to who the murderer was. Everytime I came up with a suspect, another two came to mind.

CHAPTER 3