No 1.
If only I knew then what I know now – then maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't have happened. I mean, I’m too young to die, especially like this. I was a tough guy; I mean really tough.
You gotta put yourself in my place. I own these streets – everyone knows me, from the local Polizza to the wise guys. So when I’m eyeing up this smooth vehicle that some lame brain has parked outside our usual joint I think, ‘whoohoo!’ Smart wheels. She’s black, sleek, low and mean looking. So me and the guys walk round her, admiring like.
Then she comes out of the bar and looks at us. I mean, she looks at us not like we was dirt – but like we was interesting! She sees me, Branco and Francis, looks at us like she’s looking at dinner. But she picks me. No woman like this ever eyed me up before. I gave her my famous ‘lazy eyebrow’ – but when she looks right into my eyes… Damn.
‘C’mon man,’ one of the guys pulls at my sleeve. I swat him away. I can’t look away from her. What she look like you ask? I don’t know, all I can see is here eyes, green, deep as Wilson’s, where Jancis died last summer.
But I didn’t know what she was. How could I? I didn’t think they was real. But hey, when she opens the door to her sleekmobile then opens the door for me… what you gonna do?
I can’t remember much, just pain, and her low, sexy laughter. Eyes and laughter, never mind the scalpel, the whip and the needles. Now here I am trussed up like a Thanksgiving’ turkey, my blood leaking away like a melting popsicle. If only I’d known…
No 2.
If only I knew then what I know now. Why hadn’t I seen the signs? They were there all along. By God, I must have looked so damned stupid.
I wasn’t Jane’s first lover by any stretch of the imagination. But to do it with my brother? What woman does that? David was constantly at the house, our house, the house that I bloody well worked hard to pay for.
There were so many reasons for David being there. Every one a lie. To eventually realise he’d been kissing Jane’s lips, and fondling her breasts as he bedded her, made me physically sick.
I hated him, and her. I should leave her, but no, revenge is sweet!
It was crazy I know, but I’d kill them both.
There was a man who, for a sum of money, would dig a grave deeper than was necessary and ask no questions. He’d arrive soon after and add enough soil to cover the bodies: it was perfect.
I’d lure the lovers to the cemetery to visit Mum’s grave. Then I’d do it. Oh, I had a great plan
I looked into Jane’s eyes. “I loved you,” I cried, tears welling in my eyes. “But your deceitfulness has brought me to this!”
My head was hurting. My chest felt heavy.
Jane merely stared at me, a cruel smile on her face. “No Simon, your stupidity brought you to this. Did you really believe that you could bribe a gravedigger into burying his cousin?”
I managed a sardonic smile as I lay there in my grave, knowing that my younger brother David, was slowly covering me with soil. Six months ago I could have walked away. If only I knew then what I know now!
No 3.
If only I knew then what I know now, I think staring at Sarah’s little grave. On the other children’s graves are flowers, candles, gnomes, but not on hers. Her grave is plain and simple, in keeping with tradition.
Sarah was born on a cold winter’s day. She was so little and didn’t breathe, and the doctors took her from me before I’d even had the time to kiss her. To welcome her into our world.
When I was allowed to visit her for the first time, she was lying in an incubator. She was so beautiful. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, she looked like a little angel, but she was a little angel in trouble. She still wasn’t breathing properly, and was put on a ventilator and taken to another hospital, far away from the hospital where I was staying that night. Only the next day could I go to the other hospital.
In the months that followed, the doctors and nurses fought for her life. Sarah fought for her life, and her battle was not in vain. Not yet.
Five years she stayed with us. Not at home, like I wished, but in a special home for the disabled. For Sarah was disabled. Severely disabled. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t play, she couldn’t see. She couldn’t even sit upright on her own. She couldn’t eat or drink, and was tube fed.
Yes, if I had known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have allowed the doctors to take care of her and try to make her better. I would have let her die in peace on that first long night of her life. The night when her struggles began.
Silently, I pick up a small pebble and put it on her grave before I leave.
No 4.
Death
If only I knew then what I know now. I wouldn't have left the night club, certainly not with a boy I had only just met. Benn was a real sweet talker though, a real smoothie. He had something in his eyes aswell , they hyponotized me, throwing all rational thoughts to the wind. I followed him to the back of the club, out of sight of prying eyes.
We kissed in the moonlight, he was so gentle. His lips moved down to my neck, then he bit me. I was paralysed while he sucked my life's blood from me. The only feeling I had was that of his fangs as they sunk further into my neck. I was dead before my body hit the cold concrete.
To me, only a heart beat had passed until I opened my eyes in my coffin. It was dark, but I could see better then I had ever been able to see in my life. I held my hands infront of my face, I had claws. Before now, I thought vampires had claws to wound their pray, now I know they are for scratching your way out of your coffin. I could feel a new strength rush through my body as I dug my way out of the ground. Now sitting in the graveyard, I didn't feel the cold, I didn't feel emotion, I felt thirsty. I knew that I was now bound to a life of murder and feeding, and I would never feel any remorse. I would never rest in peace.
No 5.
The Graveyard.
If only I knew then what I know now, I would never have sat in the church doorway with my hip flask after the pub closed last night. Well, I’m not one to gossip but I’ve lived in this village for many a long year and this was a first for me I can tell you. Mr B has been our sexton for as long as I can remember and I know he’s a keen one but he was working late, even for him. There he was digging in the corner behind the vestry with one of his long handled spades. It was a moon-lit night but clouds kept scudding across the sky so I could only just make him out. Being a sexton is an unusual job these days but Mr B loves it, everyone says so. He must spend nearly all his waking hours down here, pottering about mostly, drinking tea from his flask and tending to the graves and other duties. I’ve heard folk wonder if he’s got a wife and a home to go to. So anyway, he continued to dig deeper and deeper into the cold damp soil and I continued to swig at my whisky. A hush lay over the rest of the graves while his steel blade softly scraped and Mr B huffed and puffed. At last it appeared the job was done because he rested on the handle of his spade and wiped his brow. Maybe there’s a burial tomorrow, I thought. Then, the clouds suddenly parted and there was just enough moonlight for me to see him roll Mrs B over the edge! Honest to God. And I swear I’ll never let another drop of whisky pass my lips, that’s a promise.
No 6.
It didn't even occur to me to be scared. I forgot you were supposed to be scared of graveyards
It was getting on for midnight and most of the night's trick-or-treaters were tucked up in their beds, snuggled up with teddys and sicky bellies from all that chocolate. I should have been in bed, too. But I'd been brought to the graveyard by a knock at the door.
When I'd gone to answer it, nobody was there. I thought it was probably some kids messing about, sometimes they forgot it was trick-or-treat and just played the tricks instead. I quickly shut the door again, half expecting an egg in my face or even a rock. I bolted the door and turned toward the kitchen. Just then I saw a scrap of paper on the floor. It had been posted through the door. I picked it up and unfolded it.
“YOU BURIED ME ALIVE!!!”
I immediately recognised the handwriting. It was my father’s. My father died last month after his heart had stopped and we had buried him five days later. I didn’t know what to think. Halloween of all nights. I made my way straight to the graveyard.
It didn’t even occur to me to be scared. I forgot you were supposed to be scared of graveyards.
I walked through the gates and made my way behind the chapel. It was only a month ago but I’d already forgotten where his grave was, that’s how much I cared. But I didn’t need to look hard. The gravestone was smashed and there was mud everywhere. When I peered into the hole the coffin was open. And it was empty.
Where is he? Is my father still alive or is this a sick Halloween joke?
Now I’m scared.
No 7.
If only I knew then what I know now, maybe I wouldn’t be stood in this cold and lonely graveyard looking down at this tombstone. If I had known that our time together was going to be so short I would never have argued over such a stupid thing. What was the big difference between going for a curry or fish and chips anyway? Who could have known that it was going to be life or death decision?
She’d been in a bad mood all day and as usual I hadn’t helped matters by going for a drink after work. The trouble had started when I got home and offered to walk down to the fish shop to get our supper. She’d started on about how unhealthy a fish supper was and that curry and rice was healthier, but since “I’d been drinking again” she would have to drive down to the curry house.
They told me that she can’t of seen the truck, that she wouldn’t of even have known what hit her. What I live with now is if I hadn’t gone for that drink after work I could have driven that car and things might have turned out different. If only I knew then what I know now!
Poll
