Sitting On The Graveyard Wall

The little boy sat on the graveyard wall, eating his ice cream as he watched the cars speed on by. Lick, lick, and lick. Slurp, slurp and slurp. He was enjoying his ice cream. It wasn’t his favourite flavour though, but he had not had one in a long time. This was a treat. An absolutely splendid treat!

Every so often a person would hurry across the path that ran beside the stone wall. The boy would we wave to him – he was ever so lonely. He craved their attention, but he never received any. They never waved or even smiled back. They would always walk on by without a glance in his direction.

The sky turned a murky pink and the temperature dropped by a few degrees. The people and the cars became less and less as the sun began to set. Everyone had gone home to their families for supper. I better go as well, the boy thought. The idea of returning home made him marginally happier and the empty feeling inside him began to subside.

As the little boy walked down the long and winding road, he took in great big gulps of fresh air. It was soothing and it cleansed his filthy throat. He could not remember the last time he had inhaled air so unpolluted.

By the time he had reached the road that he lived on, it was pitch black. The dark clouds in the night sky had covered up the moon and the stars. All the streetlamps had flickered out earlier that evening and the little boy stumbled blindly towards his house.

The house looked different from when he had last seen it. The plain red bricks had been painted over, although the little boy could not determine what colour through the darkness. He put his small hands out in front of him and felt for the door. When the familiar texture of wood came into contact with the child’s palm, he began knocking.

The light in the hall was switched on and an old lady opened the door. The little boy’s face lit up when he saw her wrinkled face.

“Grandma,” he cried, his voice overflowing with joy.

“Brother?” Her face was full of shock and disbelief. Her eyes looked dark and haunted.

A bony hand from out of the darkness gripped onto his shoulder and swiped him away from the house. After a moment’s confusion, the little boy realised he was back inside the graveyard. He looked up into the decaying face of the person the grabbed him.

The corpse open a mouth full of sharp, rotted teeth and said in a tired voice, “Little boy. This is your home now. You are one of the dead.” It shoved the boy back into his grave.

There his bones lay at rest forever.

The End

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