A Graveside Visit

One night in October of 1850, I trekked to a cemetery to visit the grave of Edgar Allan Poe. I heard a "screech" sound as I opened the metal gates. In the dark I looked around to barely make out alabaster statues adorning the myriad graves. Some were angels, some were crosses, and some were other things. The grass crunched under my feet as I proceeded through the grave sites. After searching for half the night, I finally found it. After pulling out a bottle of cognac and three black roses, I set them down on top of the dirt.

As I stared at the grave, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I beheld a specter. Not your run-of-the-mill ghost, but one that anyone would recognize.

"Greetings,"said the phantom.

"Are you...Edgar Allan Poe?" I stammered.

"Correct. 'Tis I. I have been sent to accompany you on your journey to beyond."

"What are you talking about? I am not yet thirty years old. I have plenty of time!"

Maybe the cognac will distract him? I thought to myself. "I brought you your favorite nepenthe," I said as I picked up the cognac and held it towards him.

"Oh! How pleasing. By the way, 'nepenthe' is one of my favorite words." He took the bottle and drank it, but without a body it just dripped on the ground. He took my hand with the words, "Close your eyes."

I did so. When I opened them, I saw that we were in a sparsely furnished bedroom. A bed occupied the corner on the left, and a six foot window stared at me from straight across the room. The floorboards creaked, and I heard a "tick, tick,tick" sound coming from below the center of the room.

"What is that sound?" I asked.

Poe frowned at me. "Haven't you read my works? What do you think it is?"

I gasped. "It's a dead heart!" I began to hyperventilate.

"Look closer," said the specter.

I peered into the hole in the floor and beheld a clock. It ticked in unison with the beating of the aforementioned heart. Poe picked up the clock and held it before my eyes. "With every tick of this clock, you have less and less time before your demise!"

I gasped. "I'm not ready yet! There's still so much I want to do, and write, and see!" I began to sniffle.

"You have no idea when you will pass. It could be tonight, for all you know. Or it could be forty or fifty years from now. You will never know, until it happens."

"You've had too much cognac," I said.

"How dare you! Just as I said in my stories, I am not mad. You have crossed the line!"

After cornering me by the window, he rushed at me and propelled my body out of it. I fell four stories before a loud, "Thud". As I landed on the earth below, it felt as if I had broken every bone in my body. A murder of ravens appeared and proceeded to pluck out my eyes. I somehow managed to stand and stumbled around until I lost my footing and fell into a open hole. As I fell, the temperature around me rose until my whole body ignited.

I cried my final words:

"Lord, help my soul."

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