The Girl Who Digs Graves by Willie E. Dalton

Author:Willie E. Dalton [Dalton, Willie E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Willie E. Dalton
Published: 2018-04-30T22:00:00+00:00

Boude left after several hours of being with me. The sky still looked the same as when we had gotten here, dull and dead.

I needed to dig, to work off some of this damn time, but I hadn’t wanted him to leave. I didn’t seem to have “feelings” for Boude, but I felt less crazy when he was around. I had to focus on being a big girl when he left, and not begging to him to stay right with me so I didn’t fall apart.

Out in the field, I dug mindlessly. I still didn’t mind the work, but when I was alive it was easier to focus, to feel like I was giving someone peace. Now, digging them up from the other side, I didn’t know if it was peace or heartache I was delivering.

“I can’t believe you let a vampire stay with you.” Soren was standing over me, his shadow eclipsing mine.

“He was kinder to me than you’ve been,” I said.

“Vampires aren’t kind,” he snorted. “They want your blood, sex, or soul.”

I wasn’t feeling friendly, and I didn’t like Soren being mean about one of the few people who had been nice to me.

“Well, I’ll tell you, I had sex with him, and I think I got a lot more out of it than he did.”

He scoffed, “I’m telling you, though, you better be careful,” Soren warned, and walked away.

I rolled my eyes and watched him go. I looked down to see the frail little old man I had just dug up disappear in a flash. I blinked at the hole I had just dug, and filled it back in again.

Truthfully, my mind was having difficulty deciding if sex with Boude had been a good idea or not. On one hand, it had provided much needed distraction and relaxation. It was the best I had felt since I died. On the other hand, it still felt kind of wrong to be sleeping with someone who wasn’t Raphael, like I should wait for him. A small part of me even felt like I didn’t deserve happiness, like death should just be sorrow and suffering.

I reasoned with myself on both sides of the fence as I dug, even talking out loud and nodding at times. I was glad there weren’t any other reapers around to see my breakdown, and if Soren saw, I didn’t care.

When the shovel moved the last bit of dirt revealing the body beneath it, my heart sank. It was a young girl of about seventeen or eighteen. Her hair was shiny black, and cut in a cute bob with straight bangs; her dress was pale blue with a white collar that reminded me of a school uniform. Her shoes were delicate, white Mary Jane’s, and looked like they pinched. Her face was perfect though: someone had really taken their time on her eyes and pink lips. She looked like an oversized children’s doll.

I wondered what had happened to her. I know, of course, kids die every day; healthy people die every day.

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