Lost

Slowly, I open my eyes, regaining awareness. The world around me appeared to be hazy. My head ached. The last thing I remember is being followed and helped but oddly. I was breathless, I needed time to stop. I was hidden behind a tree in the cemetery. My clothing was ripped at the edges, and I had bruises on my knees and arms, as well as being scuffed in many places. I've always been curious about how my brother died. There is a whole made-up story about my brother—about how he died but I knew that it wasn't the real cause for his death.

The cemetery was bleak, dark, and gloomy. A gnarled old oak tree leaned against the gate, and broken, damaged headstones were strewn about. The roaring wind and the creak and groan of leaves, as they swung in the storm, were audible. Fear and decaying leaves flooded my nose, and I swallowed hard, terrified of being ill.

I heard another noise as I headed towards my brother's grave. It was the sound of heavy, sluggish footsteps. When I looked around, I saw a tall, muscular man approaching me.

I screamed above the wind, "I don't think this is such a good idea." “It's too late to alter your mind,” the guy said, his voice low and menacing. “Either we dig him now or you spend the rest of your life trying to figure out how he died.”

“Ok..”, I mumbled.

I vividly remember the day when two army officials came to my house to inform me that my brother had died. Their cold, harsh expressions spoke a little when I inquired about how he died. They would only state, "Killed in the course of duty." Everything else was labelled as "classified." They handed me a letter from my brother, saluted, and then walked away, leaving me dazed, bewildered, and sad.

My brother's death was too much for me to handle. With shaking fingers, I finally opened the letter, but only one sentence glared back at me. “I'll always be there for you, John, brother.” What did he mean by that? How could he possibly be with me again? He was dead already.

Now I was digging with a rusted shovel in my hands, eager to find the truth. My brother's coffin began to emerge from behind the layers of sodden dirt as the scar-faced man beside me started digging at the other end. I started to feel panicked when faced with this moment of reality. What if I'm completely wrong? I knew John despised the army and desired to be released.

I gazed down at the coffin as my hired assistant tugged away the lid with a crowbar. The lid flew back with a loud snap, revealing the frozen, lifeless corpse inside. The fact that there was a dead guy in the casket brought a sigh of comfort to my whole body. It wasn't John.