There’s something oddly therapeutic about reading the headstones of the deceased and learning their life stories. I usually go to the graveyard early in the morning, when it’s just light enough to see and nobody is there. However, last night, something woke me up and i was drawn to the graveyard. I got up, got dressed, and started walking.
I recall it being particularly brisk and windy, but something kept telling me to go. As I approached the church next to the graveyard, I was flooded with vivid memories of when Mom and Dad were still alive. I sat down on the steps reminiscing, feeling the cold wind hit my skin, and the concrete steps on my fingertips. I started to hear talking coming from the graveyard.
I reluctantly stood up and started heading towards the direction the talking was coming from. As I got closer, I started to notice two tall, dark silhouettes of men with guns. I ducked behind a headstone to avoid being seen. A cold, dirty hand grabbed my wrist and a voice below me whispered “Act natural until they’re gone.”. The men approached me, they were wearing masks and carrying rifles over their shoulders. One of the men looked directly at me and asked what I was doing there. “Just paying my respects, Sir.” I responded. He looked at his friend. “You have to leave as soon as you’re done.” he instructed. Then they left.
I slowly moved away from the headstone and a pale body arose from the soil and sitting before me was a woman I did not recognize. “We have to get out of here,” she said with panic, “now.”. She got a firm grip on my arm and ran into the woods, dragging me behind her.
Once we were away from civilization, she broke down. “They found me, the fu**ing found me!” she said barely able to breathe. She refused to tell me what exactly she meant by that. She said if she told me, they’d be after me too. She just insisted I take her home and book her a flight out of the country, so I did.
The next morning, I snuck her into my car. She wore a mask, a hat, and a hoodie to avoid being recognized. I tried once again for an explanation. “Fine,” she sighed, “this is gonna sound fake but here it goes. I used to live in Mexico with my family, my dad got involved with the drug cartel and they targeted my family. They killed both of my parents so my aunt took me in, wasn’t long before they got to her too. Now I’m on my own. I thought i had gotten away but last night, they broke into my apartment and attempted to bury me alive. I’m so glad you came along, I would have died if you didn’t.”. I was speechless. How could a simple walk to my local graveyard get me into such a huge mess.
We arrived at the airport and she bolted out of my car as soon as I had come to a stop. I followed her inside. We made it all the way through the airport safely, when we arrived to the gate, she thanking me for my help and she hugged me. She pulled away and shrieked. I turned around and to my surprise, there stood the same two men from the graveyard. They pulled her towards them, she struggled and screamed but there was no use. They handed her a gun. “If you kill her, we will let you go.” one man said. She looked at me with fear and a lifetime full of pain in her eyes, pointed the gun towards my face, teared up, and whispered “I’m so sorry.”.