Her breathing is ragged with the strain of carrying the irregularly shaped bag. She forces herself not to think about the contents of the bag, because if she does she won't be able to keep going. Her face his damp with sweat and tears, even a little blood, dry and crusty.

With every step her destination looks farther and farther away. With every deep breath her mind becomes darker, more sinister. She's afraid to let the memories in because memories mean pain and she doesn't like pain.

She stumbles and falls, the story of her life. She drops the bag several times and each time it makes a sickening crunch like bones breaking. Finally she reaches the giant oak tree at the top of the hill where no one ever goes.

For a few blissful seconds she slumps against the tree, but then she’s up again digging up the ground with her small shovel. Too long, too long! A voice screams in her head and she gives up the shovel and claws at the dirt with her bare hands. People will be suspecting, wondering where she’s gone. Wondering where he—

She cuts off the thought, refusing to acknowledge it. She focuses on the task ahead. Finally the hole is dug, ragged and sloppy, but a hole all the same. Now for the part she’d been dreading. Carefully, carefully she unzips the bag. And carefully, carefully she hugs the contents to her chest.

Fresh tears roll down her now dirt-stained face. They won’t take him now. You saved him. The voice in her head tells her. And for a split-second she smiles, it’s gone so fast that anyone watching wouldn’t have seen it, but it was a smile.

“Your safe now,” she whispered clutching the unzipped bag to her body. She stands up straining under the weight of it. She gazes at his silent form one last time and kisses his cold cheek. She gently drops the corpse into the grave. The last words she whispered before dirt filled his mouth and eyes were

“I love you.”