27

The boy was only 27 years old, but was wise beyond his years.

I cannot write and this is my feeble attempt at it.  Now that I have vast amounts of time (and your attention), I want to tell you my story.  It is nothing special, it is simply one of many adding to the collective cry of those gone before me.  Their cries, and mine, rise from their graves to weave a tapestry of pain and curses, becoming diluted in the consciousness of the still living.   

Mark Twain said “The personages in a tale shall be alive, except in the case of corpses, and that always the reader shall be able to tell the corpses from the others.”  That being said, let me make it very clear to you that I am dead.  But do not feel sorry for me.  It’s nice where I am.  My grandparents live out in the country, close to where the family cemetery is.  That’s where I am now, off in the corner, near the back.  The leaves have all turned color and most have fallen off the trees.  The wrought iron lettering noting the family name for those few driving by is black against the clouds.  The wind whistles and that suites me fine as I always liked these chilly days when the rain washes everything away.  I’ve thought about this a lot and all I can think about is an apology. An apology to my parents: I’m sorry.  How can I ever exclaim that enough?  I loved you both so much and I know that you would have traded spots with me if it were that easy, but it never is.  I never wanted to be anything less than perfect for you.  To my brother and sister, don’t let my story burden you.  If anything, please find enlightenment in this story and enjoy the life I know both of you deserve.  

They say hindsight is twenty-twenty but I honestly can’t say if things should have been different.  I was the uninvited guest and was upsetting dinner party, so to speak, so I quietly excused myself from the table in the most unfashionable way.

Reviews

[ShadowWalker]

very good...i like the sense of darkness...something i know is difficult to achieve :)

[Marie]

Good story, It actually sounds rather positive when compared to the writings of E.A. Poe. It reminds me of "The Voices of Glory" by Davis Grubb.