Pexels By Author Micael Widell | Edited with Pixlr X
Amelia had lost her mother, which had obviously caused her great pain. Almost religiously she visited her grave at least every two weeks, talking to her about her work, how her father and brothers were doing, and so on for a few hours while she cleaned her grave, since that part of the cemetery, although close to the entrance and very busy, was not very well attended. She also took the opportunity to visit her grandmother, whose grave was in a plot of land a few meters away, also very abandoned, it was barely possible to see her split and split tombstone among the overgrown bush.
What was strange to Amelia was that every time she returned, she did not get the flowers... or rather, she managed to see them but in another grave farther away from her mother's. This bothered her a lot. This bothered her greatly, she thought how could someone be so inconsiderate to take her flowers instead of bringing her own for the memories of her deceased? Well, maybe it's someone without many resources and since he sees them pretty..., she said to herself.
Pexels By Author Brett Sayles
On a very cloudy and somewhat cold day, she makes her usual visit, although this time a little more hurried because the weather was predicting heavy rains. While she was doing her chore of cleaning and talking, she noticed a new grave two rows away, she crossed herself in respect and said aloud to her surroundings - There is a new neighbor or a new neighbor, so everyone around here is behaving well, you know how that must feel! -To which he felt a faint, warm breeze and received it by way of acceptance of his advice. He continued cleaning the area, it had rained the last few days and the bush had grown a lot, suddenly he heard someone crying, he looked up and it had become a little foggy but he could see someone at the foot of the new grave - Poor thing, it is very hard when you lose someone you love. -She looks down and goes on with her work. After a while Amelia feels thirsty and goes to the nearest drinking fountain to fill her thermos, on her way back she notices the crying again, someone was still lamenting the recent loss. She walks slowly because she is tired, but she notices the clothes of that person, it was a woman, of advanced age, her hair was a bit messy and her clothes were worn, as if from another era; she does not pay much attention and continues walking towards where her mother was resting. He sits down for a while to think and maybe to pray for his mother, for the new soul and her peace... the crying is no longer heard, he looks up and sees the lady moving towards the old tomb where her mother's flowers were placed. She felt a shiver in her stomach and stands up to try to calm her nerves, she sees how suddenly that lady stops, turns around and says words without sound but that Amalia can hear - He was the only one who brought me flowers, now he is there... I can't see him anymore... he has gone to another place that I can't reach... -, she continues walking to his resting place crying again and sees how he vanishes into thin air.
She could not believe it, Amalia simply had goose bumps all over her skin and she just wanted to cry from the shock but she could not. A huge sadness flooded her chest and she didn't understand why. She prayed again to calm down a little, said goodbye to her mother and left.
Pexels By Author Alain Frechette
I hope you liked this short story, which by the way is true and I thought I would give it a more narrative touch. This happened to my mom (although I changed her name a little), actually my grandfather, my aunt and I were there, but strangely none of that we could perceive, we noticed my mom something strange but we did not say anything until she took that reaction at the end. Undoubtedly, something you have to live to understand.
Amelia había perdido a su madre, lo que obviamente le había ocasionado un gran dolor. Casi religiosamente visitaba su tumba al menos cada quince días, le platicaba sus cosas del trabajo, cómo estaban papá y hermanos, y así durante algunas horas mientras le hacía limpieza a su sitio, ya que esa parte del cementerio, aunque cerca de la entrada y muy concurrida, era poco atendida. También aprovechaba de visitar a su abuela, su tumba estaba en un terreno a pocos metros, también muy abandonado, apenas se lograba verla partida y hendida lápida entre el monte crecido.
Lo que le extrañaba a Amelia era que cada vez que regresaba, no conseguía las flores... o mejor dicho, las lograba ver pero en otra tumba más alejada a la de su mamá. Esto le molestó muchísimo, pensó ¿cómo alguien podría ser tan desconsiderado de quitarle las flores en vez de llevar las propias para las memorias de su difunto? “Bueno, quizás sea alguien sin muchos recursos y como las ve bonitas…”, se dijo a sí misma.
Pexels By Author KoolShooters
Un día muy nublado y algo frío, hace su habitual visita aunque esta vez algo más apresurada porque el tiempo anunciaba fuertes lluvias. Mientras realizaba su faena de limpiar y hablar, se percata de una tumba nueva a dos filas de allí, se persigna en forma de respeto y dice en voz alta a sus alrededores – Hay un vecino nuevo o una vecina nueva, así que todos por aquí se me portan bien, ustedes saben cómo se debe sentir eso. -, a lo que sintió una tenue y cálida brisa y lo recibió a modo de aceptación a su consejo. Continúa limpiando la zona, había llovido los últimos días y el monte creció muchísimo, de repente escucha a alguien llorar, alza la mirada y se había puesto algo de neblina pero se lograba ver a alguien al pie de la nueva tumba – Pobre, es muy duro cuando se pierde a alguien amado. -, baja la mirada y sigue en lo suyo. Al cabo de un rato Amelia siente sed y va al bebedero más próximo a llenar su termo, de regreso nota otra vez el llanto, aún alguien estaba lamentando la recién pérdida. Camina poco a poco por el cansancio, pero se fija en la vestimenta de aquella persona, era una mujer, de entrada edad, el cabello algo desprolijo y sus ropas gastadas, como de otra época; no hace mucho caso sigue caminando hacia donde reposaba su madre. Se sienta un rato a pensar y tal vez a rezar por su mamá, por la nueva alma y su paz… ya no se escucha el llanto, levanta la mirada y ve a la señora moverse en dirección la vieja tumba a la que le ponían las flores de su mamá. Sintió como un escalofrío desde el estómago y se pone de pie para tratar de calmar los nervios, ve como de repente aquella señora se detiene, se voltea y le dice palabras sin sonido pero que Amalia logra escuchar – Él era el único que me traía flores, ahora está ahí… no lo puedo ver más… se ha ido a otro sitio que no puedo alcanzar… -, sigue caminando a su lugar de descanso otra vez llorando y ve cómo se ida desvaneciendo en el aire.
No se lo podía creer, Amalia simplemente tenía toda la piel de gallina y solo quería llorar de la impresión pero no podía. Una tristeza enorme le inundó el pecho y no entendía por qué. Volvió a rezar para calmarse un poco, se despidió de su madre y se fue.
Espero que les haya gustado esta breve historia, que por cierto es real y pensé en darle un toque más narrativo. Esto le pasó a mi mamá (aunque cambié un poco su nombre), en realidad ahí estábamos mi abuelo, mi tía y yo, pero extrañamente nada de eso lo pudimos percibir, notábamos a mi mamá algo extraña pero no dijimos nada hasta que tomó esa reacción al final. Sin duda, algo que se tiene que vivir para entender.
Pexels By Author KoolShooters
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Hello @nanitaakane05 I like your story of the graveyard visit. It has all the elements of something surprising about to happen.
I'd like to make a suggestion. I got lost from the beginning because of the use of numerous pronouns. I couldn't tell who has doing the talking and experiencing what was happening. Maybe it was in the translation.
Also, I think it might help a bit to break up your paragraphs into readable portions.
When time to present dialogue, it may be best to set them out in a different one line paragraph. The dialogue gets lost in the lengthy paragraph.
Overall, you have a nice story for your true event that happened.
Thanks for sharing. Take care, and have a good rest of your week.
Thanks for the suggestion. The truth is, I always wonder whether to make them separate or within the paragraph so I choose to leave it that way, but I know for the next one. Thank you very much! Happy day! 😁🤓
You are welcome. I'm considering publishing a story in the Writing Club. I just subscribed to it. That's why I chose your post as I was anxious to see what type of stories were being published there.
Also, thank you for deciding to Follow my journey on Hive. I appreciate it. Hope to engage with you again soon.
Take care and stay safe.
I love this community, here I can write freely, let my imagination run wild (although it is a bit crazy) and learn from other writers.
Thanks again, take care!