Dark, scary graveyard or safe, well lit road? Which route to take home seemed like a clear cut choice but the shortcut through the grave yard was so much quicker. Oh screw it! What could possibly go wrong? I pushed open the gate and started along the path. The full moon climbed high in the sky casting an ethereal glow to light my way, bright enough to cast shadows. The summer night was cool but not cold. Crickets chirped in the grass, slowly becoming the only sound as I moved deeper into the solitude. Near the centre I paused, listening to the sounds of the night. The sweet smell of jasmine hung on the air and the pale moonlight made everything seem a little bit like a dream. A soft breeze tickled strands of my coppery hair that had fallen from the messy bundle I’d clipped at the back of my head. This place wasn’t scary at all, it was beautiful. I closed my eyes, just letting the feeling soak eryaman escort in, and heard… crying? I opened my eyes and looked around for the source. I couldn’t see anyone so I listened again. It was faint, but I definitely heard soft, gasping sobs. I took a few steps down the path towards the sound. “Hello?” I called, softly. The sobbing continued and I followed the sound until I saw a figure kneeling by a grave. Should I see if they were okay? I mean sure, someone crying over a grave in a cemetery wasn’t exactly unheard of, but, in the middle of the night? What if they were planning to hurt themselves or something? I crept closer. “Hello? Are you okay?” The figure tensed, startled by my voice, and turned to look over his shoulder. I could see it was a man now. His eyes glistened in the moonlight. He looked about my age, early-twenties, sincan escort with dark eyes and a rough dusting of beard. “What you want?” he asked, hoarsely, as if his grief caught in his throat. “I heard you, I… I don’t know, I guess I was just concerned.” He turned back to the grave and I crept up behind him to look at it. Marie Louise Emmett, dead just two weeks, lay beneath the soil by his knees. “You wife?” I asked crouching beside him. “My sister,” he said. “My little sister.” I looked at the dates again and realised the girl had only been fifteen when she died. “What happened?” “I killed her.” I lost my balance and staggered back. “I’m sorry, what?” He turned to face me and forced a weak smile. “No, I don’t mean I murdered her, but it feels like it though.” “What do you mean?” “I told my parents I couldn’t babysit, so they etlik escort left her at home on her own and she got into some trouble. Took an overdose.” He stood and started to walk away from me. My heart leapt into my throat. “You can’t blame yourself for that.” “Oh yes I can,” he said. I darted in front of him. “Well you shouldn’t.” The moonlight fell on his face in such a way that his eyes were in shadow, and all I could see were two tiny white reflections. “Let me go,” he said, stepping round me. I turned and watched his back as he walked away down the path. “Where are you going?” “I don’t want to go on like this.” I hurried after him and grabbed his arm. “No! Don’t.” “Why not?” “Because! She wouldn’t have wanted that, would she?” “She doesn’t want anything now.” He pulled his arm free and carried on. I got in front of him, barring his way. “Okay!” I said. “So you feel bad. That’s normal. Get drunk, get laid, get in a fight and get arrested, whatever, but don’t kill yourself.” He made to push past me again and I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him. I don’t know what made me do it. Desperation, maybe. Insanity was also a possibility. He froze for a moment and then grabbed me and kissed me back, hard and hot.