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The Graveyard
By Jean Pike   


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This one was written by my son, Noah, as an English assignment. I thought it was pretty darn good. I hope you will, too!

The Graveyard

By: Noah

Under the trees in the dead of night lie the shells of humans whose souls have departed. The darkness falls over the graveyard like a blanket covering the tombstones. The clouds overhead block out the light of the moon and stars, so that all that can be seen are the headstones and the memories of the dead.

In the farthest, darkest corner of this graveyard an old man perches atop a tombstone, his eyes wandering, searching for someone to tell his story to. In life he was a soldier, honor-bound to fight for God and country. But for years he has been haunted by the memory of the blood that he shed. He needs desperately to explain, to justify the taking of the lives of countless German troops.

Terror grips me as I approach this phantom, as if summoned by a dream. My eyes are drawn to the name etched into the tombstone. It is my own. This phantom waits for me. He is my grandfather, and his eyes shall wander no more ...

 

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