Necromancer: Confession

By: Connor Rice

Rain danced gleefully across the tombstones as if mocking the dead. The now wet moss on older parts of the graveyard made the ground slick. It grew where other forms of life refused for reasons of their own, yet sparingly did the moss do so as if even it respected burial grounds. The only defilement of the graves were occasional children daring their peers to see how far in they could run without turning back.

Simon stood near the edge of the graveyard where the newer graves sat. In his hand was a single white carnation which he rolled the stem between his thumb and index finger. Fidgeting was a nervous habit for him. Inhaling deeply, he bent down and placed it on the ground between two graves.

“Hey. It’s me again.” He said in a remorseful tone as he straightened up and took a few steps back.

Simon’s face wore a half smile. A ray of sunshine broke through the clouds and just missed the graveyard. It landed on the pavement behind him, but he saw it nonetheless as he looked up.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier. Mom’s been keeping me busy with looking for jobs. I know she means well, but…” A chuckle escaped his throat. He had promised his two friends that he’d visit them before summer was over. Summer had come and gone without a single visit from Simon, though not a day passed when they weren’t on his mind.

The sound of rustling leaves from behind caught his attention. There wasn’t any wind, which meant someone was close. Turning around revealed a fellow classmate and neighbor, Grace, walking towards him with an umbrella. Why she was here was beyond him. She walked up to him, and held the umbrella over his head protecting him from the rain.

“You shouldn’t be out in the rain talking to yourself. People might think you’re crazy.” Grace said with a smile. She was barely wet, while Simon was, on the other hand, soaked to his skin. It was just then that he noticed how cold he was. A shiver went down his back as water dripped off his chin. Grace pointed to the apartment building that was across the street, and Simon nodded. They walked in silence until the awning sheltered their bodies.

“Who are you talking to anyways?”

“John and Mary.”

“But they’re dead…” Grace looked at him concerned about his well-being. If he was talking to the dead, what did that say about his mental state? Sure he lost two of his best friends, but so had she and she wasn’t talking to the dead in her spare time. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he…

“I know, but it’s my way of showing respect to them; treat them as if they were alive. Keeping them in my memories isn’t enough. I have to keep them alive some other way…” He interrupted her thoughts. A drop of what seemed to be water rolled down his cheek, but she knew better. It was a tear drop

“I’m just worried about you.” It was the truth. Lately she’d watched him become more detached from the world. On more than one occasion, she had caught him having a full conversation with himself, but she only heard half of it. It was like someone in his head talked to him and he answered out loud. Grace was told, by Simon, that it wasn’t anything to worry about, yet, she couldn’t help but get the feeling his sanity was slowly slipping away.

“Don’t be.”

“Don’t be? How can I not? You’re not answering my calls anymore. It’s like you’re shutting the real world out, and replacing it with your own.” Simon went silent and his smile faded. Another tear rolled down his cheek. She had verbally slapped him, and there was no going back. Holding her tongue, she waited for him to respond. It seemed like eternity before he did so.

"If I told you what was going on, you’d think I had gone crazy, but, at the same time, I don’t want to lie to you.” His eyes closed and he exhaled deeply before opening them. Grace looked at him with concern. What he was talking about eluded her, but she wanted to know what ailed him; she wanted to help, and most of all she wanted to tell him how she felt towards him.

"We’ve been friends for basically our entire lives, Simon. I’d believe anything you’d say, and you know that.” She placed her hand on his shoulders trying to reassure him. Simon rested one of his on hers. They stood there, waiting for the other to talk. Waiting for someone to break the silence. Waiting…waiting…

“All right. I guess I’ll tell you, but not here.” Simon broke the silence between them. It was almost refreshing to hear those words come from him. For the first time since John and Mary died, Simon was actually going to have a meaningful conversation with her. Folding up her umbrella, Grace grabbed the hand on top of hers, and led him up two flights of stairs. She knew this place well enough to walk it in pitch black. Taking a left when they reached the third floor, they walked past the first two doors and stopped in front of the one labeled in brass “324”.

“Mom and dad left to go on a business trip. I have the apartment to myself for two more days.” Grace told Simon as she unlocked the door. Right as she opened the door, the familiar smell of cinnamon rolls hit his nose. Apparently she hadn’t stopped baking. After she threw the keys on the table next to the door, they both walked in. Out of sheer habit, Simon walked through the front hallway into the main room and sat on the leather sofa. A smile appeared on Grace’s face.

“We kept the couch only because I convinced mom and dad that you loved the thing so much.” Simon let out a sigh. He longed for the days when the four of them, John and Mary included, just sat on this couch and just talked. It was dubbed “The Honest Couch” because they promised each other that they’d never lie to each other when on it. He knew why she chose her house over his. It was because on this couch she wouldn’t have to worry about him beating around the bush about anything. It was second nature to be upfront about anything and everything when on it.

“We kept the couch only because I convinced mom and dad that you loved the thing so much.” Simon let out a sigh. He longed for the days when the four of them, John and Mary included, just sat on this couch and just talked. It was dubbed “The Honest Couch” because they promised each other that they’d never lie to each other when on it. He knew why she chose her house over his. It was because on this couch she wouldn’t have to worry about him beating around the bush about anything. It was second nature to be upfront about anything and everything when on it.

Grace closed her eyes just taking in the moment. Here she’d find out his feelings towards her, and what had been bothering him recently. Like the old saying said, she was killing two birds with one stone.

Before she knew it, he had placed his head on hers. She could feel him shaking, and thus began her worrying again. The whole reason she had gone to the graveyard was to prevent him from getting a cold.

She reached behind her for the blanket that sat between the edge of the couch and the wall. Grabbing it, she wrapped it around both herself and Simon. This was the first time that either of them had shown physical intimacy towards the other, but neither of them objected to it. Minutes ticked by as they just sat there with heads laying on each other. Finally, Grace took her head off his shoulder, sat up, and spoke.

“Before we get to what’s been bothering you, there’s something I need to know.”

“Name it.”

“Do you love me?”

This made Simon sit up straight. He knew that she was going to be forward, but not in that sort of way. She had caught him off guard with that question. It was coming from left field, as some would put it. Closing his eyes, he calmed his nerves, and collected his thoughts. It took mere seconds to do so and he opened his eyes again.

“I can’t lie to you. Yes. Yes I do.”