HALLOWEEN STORY || Day 7 ~ P.S. I love that book!

We can read and we love reading. But we can also write! So today we are super happy to share with you an original story!

Only 1 day till Halloween!

The Great Showing

original story written by Martyna, illustrated by Nosferatu

Dedicated to my Grandparents

It was All Hallows Eve, and Margery Johns was standing in the main city cemetery with a beautiful bouquet of white flowers. She slowly took a box of matches out of her pocket, knelt down putting the flowers on the ground and lit the candle. Once standing again she smiled, wiped the tears from her eyes and put the gloves back on.

She was a visiting her grandparents grave.

‘I miss you guys. I hope you’re doing ok. We’re all ok too’, - she stood still for a bit, but eventually walked away towards the exit.

‘God, she’s beautiful’, - a voice came from the grave, and an old woman emerged from it. She was sitting in the place where her family put her casket almost five years ago, yet she didn’t look bony, dry or dirty from the soil. She looked rather beautiful, with her grey hair put in a clean bun and her dark blue dress.

‘That’s from my side of the family’, - said a man emerging from the spot of ground next to Irene Cherry.

‘Oh Fred, if she would take after your side of the family, she’d have to hide her face under a paper bag’, - she said in admiration of her granddaughter.

‘Don’t be ridiculous Irene, my sister was handsome.’

‘Yeah, she was a hand and some alright’

‘You don’t know what you’re saying’ – Fred Cherry waved a hand at his wife and stood up fixing his black jacket.

‘Evening neighbor, how’s the weather down there?’ - Fred turned around and saw a young man of no older than mid-twenties climbing out of his grave.

Of course, they didn’t climb out their graves in a literal sense. They all seemed to be able to walk through things without touching them; Just the other day, Flamingo Rojas, a professional runner, who occupied the open grave slot four rows to the right from Fred and Irene, started running back and forth through all the gravestones in the cemetery. He ran straight through them as if he were a ghost. Well, in truth, he was a ghost.

‘Practicing for the marathon,’ – he told everyone.

‘Poor thing, doesn’t know he’s dead’, - said Mrs. Abigail Credence, an old resident of the cemetery. She died in 1898.

‘Sunshine and rainbows, what do you think? It’s dark and wet,’ – Fred told the young man. Irene stood up as well and hugged Stephen.

‘I cannot say enough, how much I love your dress Irene, you look like Grace Kelly’ – he said.

‘Can you imagine having Grace Kelly here? I would literally die,’ - they both laughed.

Fred rolled his eyes shaking his head. Looking around he saw their other neighbors stepping out of their graves. They were all slowly gathering for the Great Showing.

Fred was holding Irene’s hand as they walked towards the pond in the middle of the cemetery. Irene loved this night. She always said that All Hallows Eve is the night when all cemeteries turn into an ocean of light. The light coming from the candles which the families of the departed would light, as a sign that the dead have not been forgotten, and that they still live in the hearts of their loved ones.

Stephen walked with them, greeting almost everyone on their way. Stephen has been living here since 1926, and as he himself said numerous of times, all one can do, when one finds himself in a situation of death, is be friendly and nice. Fred had his own opinion on that statement as he didn’t really need anyone else but Irene, but he saw how she liked to mingle with other dead people, how she enjoyed learning about their lives and telling everyone about theirs. So he did what any man in love would do for his little lady: he shut up and nodded.

Even though their neighborhood, as Fred called it, had very diverse habitants, they weren’t too bad, and when they were alive, Fred though, they must have made alright people. Even Stephen.

‘The night. The shadow.

Brought the darkness into my veins

And changed the pulsing blood

With the venom of death’

‘Evening Bernard’, - said Stephen as they approached an older man probably in his mid-thirties or even older. He was wearing all black, his hair was messy and he was holding a cigarette. He was leaning on a tree and turned his head to them.

‘Is it? Is it only evening?’

Bernard was a poet. He moved into the cemetery ten years ago. Fred and Irene remembered reading about him in the local newspaper. The article read that the man started a fire in the middle of the apartment by burning books, and since he was highly intoxicated he simply passed out, burning with it all. Bernard told Cherries that he felt like no one understood his art, so he burned all his books to save them from the ignorant human beings.

‘Understandable’ – was Fred’s answer.

‘Are you going to the Great Showing, Bernard?’ – asked Irene.

‘No, I wish to be alone with my thoughts.’

‘You have an eternity for that my sweet boy’, - said Abigail Credence who joined Stephen and the Cherries, - But one day you might come to realize that you don’t have as many thoughts as you might have imagined. Come now; help an old woman walk down the hill’

They all walked down the hill to the pond and took couple of moments to find a good spot for the Great Showing. It was getting a little crowded as the years passed and someone suggested that soon they will have to make two Showings, for they simply won’t fit there all at once anymore. Fred put his arm around Irene, they smiled to each other and turned to the water. Not long after, the crunchy autumn leaves began to stir and lift from the ground as the wind began to rise.

‘It’s starting’ – Irene whispered and Fred nodded leaning his head to hers.

Suddenly, every light from every lit candle on every grave removed itself from the wax and took off into the air, letting the wind take them. Thousands of floating warm bright lights were floating down the hill and landing in the middle of the pond. Everyone had their heads up to watch these dancing lights coming down, waiting patiently for what they would show. Finally, when all the lights were above the pond, in one sudden dive they all splashed into the water. Everyone gasped when they started to see, to see their loved ones.

The Great Showing would always show who lit a candle on the grave of the departed. It would show a fragment from their life, the past and the present. Stephen was smiling as he was seeing his mother and sister hanging Halloween decorations. Bernard saw people who finally were reading and quoting his book. Abigail Credence saw a baby girl, her great-great-great-granddaughter, named after her. The runner Flamingo saw his statue being put on a shelf in the high school where he taught gym. And Cherries saw their daughter sitting in the rocking chair, one that Fred made, watching her family in the yard. They saw their granddaughter graduate collage, and learn how to drive. Irene wiped the tears from her eyes and Fred cleared his throat couple of times as they turned to each other and took each other’s hand. They died five years ago in a car crash, together, just as they promised each other so many years ago.

‘To many more years to come’

‘To many more years to come’, - Fred echoed and they both left the Great Showing, heading back. Their grave was on a hill, so they had a beautiful view of the forest. They both sat down at the bench that their daughter placed here for those longer visits. Fred and Irene watched the moon slowly hide his mischievous grin over the hill and enjoyed the peaceful blissfulness that they shall have for all eternity.

‘Come Cherries, - said Stephen who all of a sudden jumped behind them. ‘New Arrival’

Fred and Irene followed Stephen as he led them to meet the newest member to their neighborhood.