The early grave...

The quietness of the woods left me with an eerie feeling as I headed home from the mines that night. I could hear every step I made and the crunch of every stone under foot screamed out into the darkness as if my presence was to be made well known. There was a sense of oddity in the air that I cannot explain easily with words.

paranoia was all.

As I wandered I stumbled into the local pub for a bit of ale to warm my bones for the walk home. I laughed cheerfully at the tales about phantoms chasing men and women through the woods. And the dead coming back to haunt the living.

"What nonsense!" I muttered under my breath.

Such things were tomfoolery and not for someone mindful like myself. My mug reached its finale and I motioned for the door. Upon my exit I passed by an ailing older man whom of which I could not help but notice. A frightened glance was directed at me while in my attempt to leave unnoticed and even unconcerned of his emotion was completely unsuccessful.

"Beware good sir. For tonight is the very night in which the dead do come back to rest their affairs they have with the living. If one were to mistake you for such a person you surly will not retire to your abode this eve."

"Drivel, pure drivel from a drunkard who on this night offers nothing more then delusions and ghost stories designed to scare the weak minded!" I proclaimed aloud.

"Even if I did honor such tomfoolery I have no affairs with the dead."

The old man's eyes widened in surprise as his concern turned sour at my obvious mockery of his words.

"Aye my good sir, but you see the dead no longer care for whom the affairs are reserved! They seek only to avenge the actions thereof! I implore you do be careful good sir."

"Seems the older one gets the more the mind tends to wander towards the thoughts of the grave." I muttered as I removed myself from the pub.

"Jealousy!" I cried out.

I am half this man's age and he is jealous that I will live my life many years past his dying day. I am young and far from death this night. Far from resting in a lonely grave having only worms for company and companionship.

I suddenly found myself in the company of a rolling fog. Lost in the thoughts of life and death I must have lost track of time for it seemed to form out of the very air around me. My steps begin to acquire a pace more suitable for its arrival; after all I did not want to find myself lost should it get much too dense.

After a time had passed I began to notice an echo in my steps as if there were an additional step that matched shortly after my own. 

"Simply an echo and nothing more", I chattered quietly to myself.

I hastened along at yet a faster pace hoping to prove to myself that is as such; an echo. The echo lacked in quality to my own for it was now at an opposite pace than mine. Perhaps I have been joined by another also wandering home in the fog. In an attempt at boldness I quickly turned to face whom was behind me. To my dismay they were too far a distance to recognize. Whomever it was did not seem hastened by the sudden rolling in of the fog. I paused to wait a moment thinking that a partner in my walk would hurry my way home but they also stopped; mimicking my move as if to play a shy kind of game. Perhaps they thought of me as a phantom preparing to give chase.

"Excuse me good sir or madam!" I spoke aloud
"I am seeking a partner for conversing on this long journey home. Might we join together to assist in the time passing more quickly?"

I received no response.

Perhaps they cannot hear me from such a distance.

I began to trace backwards my steps towards my seemingly unwilling partner. They again mimicked my move and began to partake in a backwards motion themselves!

"Simply too much time to be wasted playing these children's games!"  I shouted back.

I received no response.

"Bah! Let me be on my way then, and you on yours!"  I said angrily.

My steps now hard and rushed I wasted no time in getting to my home. After a short while my steps became matched once again, only now the sound was getting louder and louder. Not wanting to procure the same slanted attitude introduced earlier I began to converse with my unknown companion whom was still quite a few steps behind.

"I assume then that you have come to your senses?
"You can plainly see that I am no phantom nor a ghost can you not?"

Again I received no response. No matter I was about to arrive at my home and would soon be rid of this night and my silent friend.

A warm fire and yet another mug of ale should set this night astray as a memory.

The rolling fog began to create sense of heaviness all around me as I continued what was now only a short journey. It rolled in and spun around me as if it were alive and capable of its own free will and thought. This simple movement of the fog turned my wellness into a sickness of the sea and a feeling of uneasiness began to overwhelm my senses.

I sensed my quiet companion walking beside me for the first time. I suppose they too were made nervous about the strange rolling fog. I turned to look upon them in the hopes of a facial confirmation. However what I saw was simple a dark figure with features that could not be made out.

It seems this ghastly fog is dense enough to hide even the faintest of appearances.

"I must admit that I can make out no sense of your appearance my friend. Might you have a name that I may call you by?"

Silence was their only response.

"Very well then Sir, or madam. If I may ask what might be your take on this unusual act of the fog around us? I neither seen nor heard of such a disturbance before this time; it is strange and unnatural I must admit."

Not even a glance in my direction was given. The feeling of uneasiness was growing stronger with their continued silence. 

"Why is it that you do not speak?" I uttered nervously.

"Please dear sir or madam I must admit to the distress I feel. I ask again, why is it that you do not speak nor do you pay a glance in my direction?"

Once again muteness was offered as my only comfort.

I started to pace my steps faster and faster trying to achieve my goal of getting home.  To release myself from this tormented ghost who walked beside me. It does not speak nor does it show neither the slightest detail of appearance nor a single glance my way. My heart began to pounce in my chest as I became more and more distressed. 

"Bah! I feel that I am lost! I seem to have passed my home engaging in a conversation with no response. Thanks to the likes of you I now stand in the depths of an unknown area. I should have reached my home by this time. Should be drinking ale and warming my bones by the fire!

"Respond to me in some fashion you fiend! Even a nod I would consider.

"Why do you not speak sir or madam? Hath you no tongue to form a word? I demand that you speak or gesture in some manner lest I strike you down!"

The hush and stillness had become much more than one man could handle and I, out of rage lunged forward to place my grasp upon this voiceless creature standing within my site. With a swift fury I fell straight through them as if they had been forged out of my imagination; made of the very same substance of this horrid fog!

I landed loudly and with a thump and slush and I found myself deep inside the barren earth. My skull had felt the hard jerk to the ground as a flash of pain arose to worsen my now shamed honor. I sat for a moment trying to conceive the very matter at hand. My senses gathered I did notice the place in which I dwelt was cold and moist. 

"What manner of hole is this?" I asked.

Trying as I might I could not stand just yet for the dizziness of my mind was not yet ready to allow a stance. I could hear my muted companion still hovering somewhere above.

"For my anger however well vindicated I do offer my apologies good sir or madam. You seem to posses haste in the manner which you move for I had missed my mark. Would you do me the honor of assistance and lend a hand so that I may escape this barren hole?"

A hand indeed was what I received as I reached outward with desire to be ejected from this place. My grasp was tight upon this faceless hand. I could not help but notice the bony texture of such but worried not save for being removed from this burden. Merely but for a moment for no longer then it took for me to stand the bony hand was taken from my own and was gone.

"I say my good sir or madam I may be in need of more assistance for I cannot quite reach the edge from this place in which I now stand. Might you offer back your hand for a single moment longer?"

I received no response as I struggled to see where I was. The rolling fog was slowly dissipating and none too soon. I began to make out my dreaded location and soon it became clear just where I had landed.

"This is a grave!" I screamed

"Remove me at once from this place! I do not wish to dwell on such things till my day has come! Please remove me from this place at once I implore you!"

Moments had passed as I continued to beg for help yet received not a single word or movement in assistance.

I must find a way out of this place

"What kind of punishment is this? I did nothing wrong for the sake of time I have lived. Nothing deserving of such a place as this barren and cold home of the deceased in which I now stand."

It was of no use to me to continue my struggle for help.

Upon the clearing of the fog they must have noticed the place in which they stood and hastily removed themselves. I thought to myself.

I must remain calm and dignified in this my position. I must if I am to escape this ungodly situation.

The fog was all but gone as I began to search my surroundings. A large grave stone stood just above my reach and was of little help. I entertained the thought of reading about whomever's grave I now stood. Perhaps to satisfy a brief passing of curiosity but more to convince myself that this moment is indeed not my own.

"William Harold Batemen
September 1768 - October 1814"

"What manner of jest is this? Tis my name carved upon that stone!"

In that instance my heart began to twist and wane as my mind struggled to find reasoning in this macabre situation. My sight grew dark as I struggled to maintain insight. As if to say goodbye or perhaps even good riddance my silent companion returned and hovered above what is now mine own location amongst the dead. I could now make out a glimpse and saw only the rotting flesh of some dead creature whom was the only witness to my last moment. Suddenly it was dark and my heart once pounding with life was growing still.











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What follows was an addition to the story before it was changed. Originally the figure never did return and it was unknown whether or not it was actually a dead person that had come back. In my mind it was simple a ghost, or perhaps just a little to much to drink...

Many years pass...

An elderly lady finds herself wandering through the graves carrying an assortment of flowers; struggling to find a location in her memory. The location which see seeks is that of her late husband's final resting place - William Harold Batemen. After a short time she discovers the location and brushes away an assortment of dried leaves and debris.

"These flowers smell sweet my love. Sweet as once was your kiss. I also came across something of yours recently. Not that you need them now."

She slowly kneels down and gently places the flowers and a pair of spectacles on the ground near the headstone and begins to faithfully read the words carved in stone...

"William Harold Batemen
September 1758 - October 1814

Tripped and fell into the grave of
Wilma H. Batermen."

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I am looking for advice on proper usage of quotes. I an not entirely sure I used them correctly. In any case feel free to let me know if there are any other mistakes!