Back for more, are we? Many hugs and wishes go to Iwait4theRain; thanks for the review amiga! I wrote this drabble while listening to "Time Flies" by Lykke Li, a song my friend once described as "music to bury bodies to". If you care to have a listen, PM me and I'll be so kind as to not make you search YouTube, but I'll gift you the MP3; I'm a very friendly person.
On a very unrelated note, I've been taking sign language classes for about a year now, as I intend to go to college to become a sign language interpereter; the best part of all these classes? I CAN SIGN PART OF "I FEEL PRETTY"! Because that's totally going to help me when I'm at college next year. In the meantime, stay sparkly! :3
Action doesn't believe in superstitions. He doesn't avoid black cats, he walks under ladders for the hell of it, and he doesn't gasp at the idea of dancing on graves. However, when he walks by the old cemetery, he looks ahead and pretends that there aren't rows upon rows of dead people to his left. He isn't going to say that the cemetery scares him; stuff like that is better left for Baby John. In fact fear isn't even part of it—Action just can't come to terms that people he personally knew call two of those dirt mounds home. Tonight however is different; tonight Action glances up at the rusted iron gates and decides it's time to show up those withered piles of bones.
So he shimmies up the gate, falls hard to the ground, and takes a hasty look around. The grave markers towards the front are newer, easier to read; but if he would trek back the path, Action knows that the headstones are so worn and forgotten, they more or less just resemble rocks. As Action weaves down the path he tries not to take too much interest in the grave markers or the bunches of roses left atop the mounds of earth. He stops short in front of a grave most likely for a child. A sullen angel rests on top of the polished stone, its face looking towards the heavens. Action quickly looks away and continues down the path. He feels his heart picking up and feels the sweat seeping through his clothes. He doesn't want to say that he's scared of death; Action has seen death and knows that there is a hell of a lot of other stuff scarier than death—like the way that PR girl looked at him when she stormed out of Doc's. Action shakes this thought from his mind; Action isn't one who is keen to feeling regret. He doesn't see a need to; who gives a fuck how other people feel, right?
All of these dead people have Action thinking too much. Little does he know, he has more in common with the dead than he is willing to admit. Because maybe, just maybe, that's the root of what makes Action uneasy to cross paths with the cemetery.