The Graveyard

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

The cold breeze sighed around my body assaulting me, I shivered and hugged
myself tighter trying to keep the cold out, the twinkling stars, my only
companion in this dark night, a slick layer of fog lazily danced around the
graveyard making it hard for me to see the silhouettes of the scattered,
battered old headstones. The wind suddenly gusted through the willow trees
making them moan and groan as the branches were battered by this new
assault, the stench of fear dripped out of every pore in my body. I
swallowed deeply afraid I would get sick as the hairs on the back of my neck
stood at attention. My final destination was in sight, a pale white cross
stood in a line of other pale white crosses, all exactly the same yet
somehow I found my brother’s grave.
The crunch of boot on gravel startled me; in an instant I turned and was
faced by a tall muscular man walking towards me. His face was tough and
covered with stubble which hid the scars that crisscrossed his jaw.
"I don’t think this is such a good idea” I shouted over the wind.
“It’s too late to change your mind” the man replied in a low
threatening voice.
“Either we dig him up now or you spend the rest of your life wondering how
he died”.
“Ok, ok” I mumbled, afraid to say anything more in case the lump in my
throat would cause tears to run down my face. The years flash back to me as
I remember the day two army officers arrived at my house to tell me my
brother was dead. Their cold hard faces gave little away when I asked how he
died. “Killed in the course of duty” was all they would say. Everything
else was “classified”. They handed me a letter from my brother, saluted
then turned and left, the click-clack of their shoes on the pavement slowly,
dying away. I stood frozen to the spot, dazed, confused and devastated. I
finally opened the letter with trembling fingers but only one line stared
back at me. “I’ll always be with you brother. Karl”. What did he mean?
How could he be with me ever again? He was dead. Coming back to reality I
grasped the rusty shovel thrust into my hands by the tall man, his name
escaping my weary mind, and with a grunt I started to dig, determined to
uncover the truth.
The scar-faced man beside me began to dig as well and in what seemed like a
matter of moments my brother’s coffin began to emerge from beneath the
layers of sodden earth faced with this moment of truth, I began to panic.
What if I was wrong? I knew Karl hated the army, I knew he wanted out after
only serving a few short weeks in the field.
I looked down at the coffin as my hired helper tugged at the lid with a
crowbar. A loud snap broke the silent hush that had fallen; the lid flew
back smashing onto the hard wet earth revealing the lifeless corpse inside.
My tense body suddenly relaxed and filled with relief, there was a dead man
in the coffin. But it wasn’t my brother.

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