The graveyard had always been quiet, too quiet place, some said. It was deep away on the edge of town, a place most people passed by without noticing a second thought. Its gates, big, rusted and half-open, seemed to invite no one, and the tombstones, old and leaning, stood like forgotten memories, worn by only time and neglect. The trees, deadly thick and twisted, stretched their long branches out like skeletal hands, casting long shadows across the gravestones, as if trying to keep the sun from touching them.
There was something unsettling about the place. It wasn't just the stillness, it was the feeling that something, or someone, was watching you from the moment you set foot on the grounds. Even the air felt little heavier and cold here, thick with the scent of wet earth and old stone. Time had a way of slowing down in the graveyard, as if the world outside had forgotten this place even existed.
Not far from the graveyard, a family was on their way home. The car, sleek and black, crossing past the entrance, its engine creating sound against the night. Inside, voices clashed, sharp words cutting through the air.
"I'm done with him!" one of them snapped. "Let him rot in that place, he doesn't even know us anymore."
They spoke of their father, an old man they considered a burden. His memory had faded, and they couldn't be bothered to care for him anymore. The car goes slightly as the argument heated, the driver's frustration clear.
But they didn't see the road ahead, the sharp curve that led straight to the graveyard. The tires streched against the wet road, the car turning out of control. Then, with a lightning crunch, it collided with the stone wall beside the road. The car flipped, rolling over and over, until all that was left was scattered across the highway.
There were no survivors.
The road lay in silence, but the graveyard nearby remained still as ever. Only a few feet away, an old man stood, watching. He was thin and frail, his figure barely noticeable in the shadows of the trees. His face, hidden under a layered hat, remained unreadable as his eyes took in the scene before him.
He didn't hurry. He didn't shout for help. He just stood there, as if he had known this was coming all along.
A low, dry laugh slipped from his lips, almost to himself. "It had to happen," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper, carried away by the wind. "It was always meant to be."
The sound of his laugh hung in the air for a moment, deep and bit hollow, before the graveyard swallowed it up. The old man turned slowly, his gaze lingering one last time before he shuffled back toward the gate alley, disappearing into the shadows, leaving the living to deal with their fates.
And as the night grew colder, a quiet blessing seemed to fill the air, like a secret passed down through generations one that couldn't be spoken, only felt.
"May the wind carry your burdens to the sea,
And the sun warm your soul through eternity.
May your path be lit by stars unseen,
And your peace be found where no one has been."