“Hey
Eric, what are you going to do today?” his brother Johnny asked him
optimistically when Eric finally emerged from his room for the day.
“I’m
going to head on out to the cemetery for a while. After that the day’s a mystery.” A strange
smile crossed Eric’s face as he said the word ‘cemetery’. Johnny didn’t think much of the odd
grin. Eric had always been a bit
off. He’d been through a lot over the
years so Johnny never questioned his bizarre mannerisms. It was best just to let Eric be Eric.
The
two brothers shared a house and both had full time jobs. Johnny worked for the parks department and
Eric worked in the only local funeral home’s office. Friday’s were Eric’s days off and he always
slept late on those days, usually getting up around noon when his brother would
come home for lunch. After the death of their mother the two became closer and
had decided that they could easily rent a whole house if they became
housemates.
Johnny
had run away from home when he was sixteen years old, leaving Eric, then ten
years old, to deal with their verbally abusive, overly religious mother. After her death a year ago, Johnny came back
to Concord, Michigan to do right by his brother. He’d felt guilty about leaving him to live
with that woman alone for nine years.
Now he was glad to be home and, for the most part, felt that he and his
brother were healing and finally forgetting the past.
“So
little bro, what do you have to do at the cemetery?”
“Just
set some flowers around for a funeral tomorrow.
It should be easy work.” There
was that smile again, shining through as he said ‘easy work’.
“Don’t
you have a florist that does that shit?” Johnny asked inquisitively, wondering
why his brother, though a mere office peon, would have to do floral arranging.
“Deck’s
Flowers closed down last week so we had to import the flowers from a place in
Jackson. They sent them by mail and
since I’m the only one with time off on Friday they asked if I could arrange
them at the plot.” A tiny hint of
untruthfulness could be heard in his words.
Eric couldn’t lie well but Johnny wondered what there was to lie about
in the first place.
After
considering the fact that his brother was a loner, had no friends, and didn’t
appear to be doing drugs he let the matter be.
It was odd to lie about floral arrangements but Johnny thought that
maybe, just maybe, his brother was lying to hide the fact he was going to see a
girl or, though he didn’t care much for the idea, a guy.
Well, him being
gay would explain a few things I suppose but hopefully he’s found a nice woman
to hang around. Of course, if he had,
why would he lie about it or cover it up?
Damn, maybe he is gay…oh well; whatever raises your dick I guess.
A
few moments of silence passed while Johnny considered his brother’s motives
then he decided he would get his brother to go out to dinner with him that
night so they could discuss this “floral arrangement” lie.
“My
boss said that if I had time before the end of shift that the cemetery could
use a good mowing. I might see you
there.”
“I
doubt it Johnny. Flower arranging is
pretty quick work from what I’ve seen.”
No smile, no lie, but a quiet fear had crept into Eric’s voice. Eric wondered if his brother had caught on to
something he had said. Did his brother
discover the lie? He didn’t know, nor
did he really want to.
“Well,
maybe we could meet somewhere for dinner, my treat. How about Macky’s?”
“Sure,
what time?”
“How
does five sound?”
“Yeah,
that’d be great.” Eric felt relieved
that his brother appeared satisfied with that answer.
Johnny
gathered up some cheese and crackers for a work time snack then headed out to
the car after cheerfully saying “goodbye”.
Eric
watched him get in the car and then drive away down the street. He was glad to be alone again. He hated telling his brother lies but
couldn’t avoid it. After eating some
Poptarts he headed up the stairs back into his room. For a moment he stared at the blankness of
the walls considering how his life had come to be so lonely and so
strange. His room was white walled
without posters, decorations or adornments.
In the middle sat a cold looking white sheeted bed with black
blankets. The only window on the far
right wall showed a dead tree from the yard.
There were no curtains. The cold
asylum feel of the room could always somehow calm his nerves but at the same
time make him feel incredibly alone. He
proceeded into the white bar-less prison over to his clothes pile in the far
left corner at the back of the room.
From the pile he gathered a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans,
giving each garment a good sniff before putting them on. On the door was a body length mirror from
which he got a glimpse of himself. Thin,
young, long sandy brown hair, blue eyes, everything a girl likes in a man. That isn’t what he really saw though. In his eyes all he ever sees in the mirror is
a demon, deformed, vile, cursed, and above all, male. From the time he was a toddler his mother
screamed it into his head that men were evil, sinning creatures, their sex
their damnation. Every word of her
hateful spews he believed was true simply because it was all he had ever heard. Due to these abusive childhood teachings he
came to fear women and also came to fear himself. For these reasons he avoided women despite
always having the natural urge to be with them intimately. He finished zipping his pants and walked away
from the mirror and out of his room.
Eric
was no fool, he knew he was different and knew his thoughts weren’t going to be
accepted as sane from any supposedly sane individual. He had figured a way around the dilemma of
sexual repression and knew that his solution was both taboo and sick but he
just couldn’t keep himself from wanting someone to fuck. Somewhere, somehow, he was going to get what
he wanted and he knew now exactly where and how to take it.
Down
the stairs he rushed and out the back door he went. He got in his car and drove out to the
cemetery. It was a pretty drive, the
pine trees and deciduous maples and elms a colorful sight to see. Autumn was a lovely time, brisk but
beautiful. Eric enjoyed the dying
season’s idea of decay. The plants went
out with such perfection. He wished that
humans could leave in such a nice way as well.
It’s a pity we can’t all look good
and smell great on the way out. Oh well,
what can we do about it? Nothing I
suppose.
As
he drove he thought about all the processes involved in life and death, how
silly the traditions over the years had become and how much it all didn’t
matter in the end. His thoughts also
went to the plan ahead and the tools in the trunk of the black Buick he was
driving. A few days before he had thrown
a shovel, a pick-ax, and a crowbar in the back of the vehicle for the upcoming
“flower arranging”. Will this go well? Will I need something more or will these
things be enough? He had never done
it before and wasn’t sure if he could it well with what he had.
He
entered the cemetery gates and sought a place to park along one of the many
intertwining labyrinthine lanes. It
didn’t take too long to find a secluded area for his car not too far from the
grave he was going to visit. Eric parked
the car and asked himself just what it was he had gotten himself into. What if
I’m found out? There’s no going back
now, I’ve made up my mind, but still…
His
mind made up, he got out of the car and retrieved the tools from the back of
the Buick. With the spade shovel in his
right hand and the pick-ax and crowbar in his left, he walked briskly to a
grave close to the woods at the back of the graveyard. There was a mound of dirt piled behind the
stone marker he had walked to.
“Well,
this is it.” Eric whispered to himself.
He was sweating from nervousness and the fear of being seen. Nobody ever entered the cemetery on Friday’s
because they were considered grounds maintenance days. There was always room for error though and
Eric knew this quite well.
After
a few deep breaths he regained his confidence a little and started
digging. He remembered setting up the
funeral and burial arrangements for the girl he was digging up. She’d only been 18 at the time of her
death. She had overdosed on her first
injection of heroin. Eric remembered the
picture he’d seen of her in the funeral home records. The photo showed her to be pretty, not
beautiful, but definitely far from ugly.
He didn’t think much about her death or her picture until the week
before this venture. He concocted a
somewhat speedy plan to dig her up, do what he could, rebury her and leave.
He
started digging. After getting halfway
down closer to the casket he realized the previous week’s plan was rather
foolish and far too hasty. Everything
was going to take much longer than he had anticipated. But
there’s no going back now; not when I’ve come this far.
The
digging took almost two hours and Eric knew time was growing very short. Sweat was dripping from his face and his
clothes were sticking to his skin from the dampness he was producing. It was about 60 degrees but it felt a lot
hotter to him. He removed his black
shirt. His thin, somewhat muscled frame
was a sight that any woman would have loved to see. His jeans hung from his ass enticingly
revealing the top of his butt crack just a little. Beads of sweat rolled down his back into his
pants. If only he’d known his intense
degree of masculine beauty perhaps he would not have to be at the cemetery on a
Friday afternoon. Firmly grasping the
crowbar he’d brought with him he pried open the mahogany casket all his digging
had revealed. Before him, in a burst of
stench as the casket creaked open, was a woman’s body. Her mouth showed signs of brown decay, her
skin glowed a sickly white and light blue.
There was no glory in what he was about to do but there was a hint of
control and a sad version of sexual desire.
The thought of the sex alone was enough to harden him. He hoped it would be enough to finish the act
quickly, he didn’t think he could stand the smell for very long without
puking. Her death was not beautiful to
him. What he did find attractive was the
fact that the body was female and was readily available without a voice,
judgments, or a commitment. These facts
aroused him, turned him on and kept him hard.
He unzipped his jeans to show his bare, fully erect cock. Time was slowing down for him now, he could
feel it.
AUTHOR'S NOTE::: This is draft 2 of this story and it is an incomplete draft. Seems i get to writing and find things i can add to make it more descriptive, so it may be a little while before i finish it. There's a good 7 pages of it written in a notebook, so i figure it's going to be a little longer than 5 when all typed out. Stick around though, his story is a different one. He and his brother may even encounter more than one dead body, who knows. Extra Note:: Italicized words indicate a character's thoughts.
Great! Dunno if its just me but im getting some bi-boi feelings.
ReplyDeleteHope to see more soon.
ReplyDeleteIt should be complete before the middle of September and i may add another soon after.
DeleteGreat!!!
ReplyDeleteHope to see an update:)
ReplyDelete