This is an open-ended short story that I wrote during this year's Escapril. I might continue it eventually since I've grown quite fond of the characters. Content warning: mention of suicide & death.

 

Sera found herself in a graveyard. Again.

The first one to go was her neighbour Mrs. Gruben-Riebe. For two years she had referred to herself as a devout Catholic who’s vary of the church and ‘going on 80’. Her husband had died a couple years before she did. They didn’t have any kids but a mountain of debt from their gambling and tax-evading days. She was happy when Sera moved in because she had brought her chocolates to apologise for the renovation noise. Mrs. Grube-Riebe paid her back in alcoholic beverages. After the fifth bottle or so, Sera finally admitted that she doesn’t actually drink. This prompted Mrs. Grube-Riebe to switch to candles which she had undoubtedly bought at the church for 75 cents apiece.

Sera found out about Mrs. Grube-Riebe’s death a week and a half after it happened. She had called the landlady after she didn’t show up for a month. The landlady was very sad to inform her that Mrs. Grube-Riebe had in fact passed and the apartment would have to be rented out to someone else.

Sera moved out before she met the new tenant. She found herself in a new city but a familiar situation. The train station was just as sad as any other. But this city was filled with buildings instead of trucks. Very, very tall buildings. Sera lived in one such building, and Angie lived across from her. Angie was a middle-aged woman who lived alone. Sera instantly felt connected to her as was the case with any woman living on her own not because her husband had died a couple years ago but because she chose to do so. Angie worked in a bakery not far from their building and did not care much for friends. Or so she said. She also did not care for small talk which was a blessing for Sera who felt the same agony talking about current affairs in an elevator as she did when someone dragged their nails across a chalkboard.

One day a young man entered Angie’s apartment and Sera asked if they were friends. He didn’t know any Angie but he had just moved in the other week. Once again, Sera called the landlady because she didn’t know who else to call. The landlady was very sad to inform her that Angie had in fact passed in a tragic car accident and thus the apartment was rented out to the young man. When Sera went to the bakery to find out Angie’s resting place, her co-workers told her that Angie was in a hurry to get home that day as to not miss the beginning of her favourite singing competition. In her hurry she did not see the black cab approaching at a concerning speed. It was a swift death in every way.

Sera had felt guilty about never finding out where Mrs. Grube-Riebe was buried so she bought two bouquets of flowers when she headed to the cemetery. She did not stay longer than necessary and converse since Angie wouldn’t have appreciated it. In fact, she did not much care for flowers either, but it just doesn’t do to visit a grave empty-handed.

Sera did not really get to know the young man who now lived across from her because her company offered her to go overseas. She considered it perfect timing since Angie’s death had her starting to worry whether she might be cursed. A “she attracts death like moths to a flame”- kinda thing. So she thought she could handle this problem like any other. By running away. And so she did. Sera moved halfway across the world to escape her curse. Only to be disappointed.

The moment she met her new neighbour, Mr. Lee, she knew that he would not make it past the end of the year. Mr. Lee had been ‘going on 80’ for approximately ten years. He didn’t stand a chance. In fact, he probably would have passed either way, but Sera was certain that her presence would only speed up the process. She had moved in in late August and it was barely October when she dressed in black again.

 

Ian had been down on his luck. It started on his birthday. The first one.

He was born to a narcissistic father and an apathetic mother. Which was arguably worse than the other way around. He didn’t have any siblings which meant that his parents could focus all their attention (or lack thereof) on him. When you grow up listening to your father monologuing about his many achievements while simultaneously ensuring you that you’ll never be able to fill his shoes and your mother only tells you she loves you twice a year (once on Christmas and once on Mother’s Day), you don’t grow to be a particularly self-confident person.

Ian’s favourite item of clothing was a hooded zip-up jacket and his favourite form of communication was not saying anything at all. He got through his childhood and teenage years by telling himself that things would be looking up once he’d move out of his parents’ house. This turned out to be a lie. Really, things only got worse. Although his parents weren’t around to drag him down themselves, his unresolved trauma did the job for them. So, for the past year or so, Ian had been researching the best ways to end one’s life. During this time, he often went to the graveyard. It may have been morbidity, or it may have just been curiosity about the place where he would soon be spending a lot of time… all of it, really. On one of those visits to his future home, he ran into Sera.

Actually, it was more of a stumble. Ian tended to stumble a lot. When he looked behind to see what had caused his stumble it turned out to be a black bag. Sera had put it down to get the watering can. She felt so bad about all of her neighbours dying that she was determined to clean up Mr. Lee’s headstone. Even though it had only been installed a week earlier. When Sera saw Ian almost land face first in the grass, she hurried back to apologise.

“I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have left it in the way like that.”

Ian stared at her.

“Did you get hurt?”

Ian didn’t say anything.

Sera started to believe that he may be a foreigner too and simply didn’t understand her. She tried it in French and then in German and then she ran out of languages so she just kept talking in English, believing that Ian had no idea what she was saying. He was still just standing there. Staring. Not saying anything. Sera tended to the headstone. She had never cleaned anyone’s grave before but she had seen a lot of videos of a professional cleaner who was a regular at her local cemetery, so she felt like she knew what she was doing.

“Did you visit someone here?”, she asked Ian without pausing for an answer since she did not expect one.

“This is my neighbour’s place”, she said gesturing towards the headstone as if it was a front door.

“Almost ninety, he was. The poor fella. He didn’t know what was coming for him when I moved in.”

This made Ian jump a little.

“I’m cursed, you know. I’ve lived in three apartments over the last five years and befriended exactly three neighbours. All of them died. I must be cursed, right?” She looked at Ian who was staring and standing and not saying anything.

“Sorry, you don’t even know what I’m saying. First, I almost made you fall and now I’m unloading my problems onto you. No wonder people would rather die than talk to me.”

At this point, Sera had finished cleaning the already clean headstone and prepared to leave.

“I can understand you.”

This time, Sera was the one who stumbled. Ian had spoken so suddenly and unexpectedly, Sera almost let out a scream. After she had recollected herself, she asked: “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? You were just standing there looking all confused and angsty. I thought you were lost or something.”

Ian took half a minute to reply. “Sorry. I didn’t know what to say.”

Sera looked him up and down and nodded. Makes sense, she thought, looking at his lanky body hidden behind clothes that didn’t fit and the one earphone dangling from the inside of his jacket.

“Since you let me vent to you, shall I buy you a drink?”, she looked him up and down once more. “Or some food, maybe? You look like you could need it.”

Ian didn’t answer. But Sera was already walking towards the exit of the cemetery and so he followed her. He kept following her until they eventually reached a street cart selling noodles and broth and nothing much else. Sera sat down and made sure to place her bag out of everyone’s walkway. Ian hesitated before he sat across from her.

Twenty minutes passed until their food was in front of them and Sera took it upon herself to rekindle the conversation. Well, it was more of a soliloquy.

“So, what were you doing at the graveyard? I don’t think you knew anyone there.”

He only took twenty seconds to reply: “I like the trees.”

Sera stared at him.

“The graveyard trees?”, she asked. “Why? Are they special?”

“They’re on a graveyard”, he replied almost without delay.

Sera kept staring.

“You know that you’re odd, right?”

“Yes. I know.” No delay.

For a while they ate their food in silence. Ian judged Sera in his head for the amount of hot sauce she added to her broth. Sera scoffed when Ian pulled a face at eating one of the chives he had so carefully been avoiding.

As promised, Sera paid for their meal and they left. Ian didn’t find the right timing to part ways so he simply followed her again.

“I’m Sera. Who are you?”, she suddenly asked.

He hesitated again. He had been wanting to leave but if he answered her question it would start a whole new conversation.

“Ian”, he said eventually.

Sera did wonder what was going on inside his head when he was taking so long to reply; but not enough to ask him. Even when he wasn’t replying at all, she didn’t really mind. It gave her time to do some thinking of her own. And she had a lot to think about, what with the curse and all.

“I was-“

“I’m-“

They started talking at the same time. They both stopped talking at the same time too and now they were staring at one another waiting for the other to try again first. Sera realised that Ian wouldn’t open his mouth again until she had said her piece. Even though – as she now recalled – she had asked him a question a few minutes earlier which he had been trying to answer just now.

“I was wondering if a shaman might be able to help me”, she finally said just to break the silence.

“Are you being haunted?”, Ian asked.

Sera was surprised. It was almost like they were having a real conversation now that Ian was asking her questions.

“No. I’m cursed, remember? I told you at the graveyard.” She paused. “Do you think one of my neighbours is going to haunt me? What if Mr. Lee overheard our conversation earlier? He would be pissed, right? To find out that he had lived ninety years on this Earth just fine only for me to move in and kill him with my bad luck?”

Ian pondered on this for a while.

“Do you really bring death?”, he asked eventually.

Sera looked at him. “The numbers seem to say so. Don’t you think?”

Ian slowly realised how lucky he had been for once to run stumble into Sera. A person who brought death to everyone around them was great news for someone who wished to die. If he played his cards right, he could be back in the cemetery and under the soil within the year.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” The words spilled out of Ian before his brain had time to process what they really meant.

Sera stopped walking for a moment to stare at him. Then she started walking again without saying anything. Then she stopped and stared again.

“We just ate though”, she finally said.

“We could eat again tomorrow”, Ian suggested.

“I was planning to”, Sera replied. “How old are you?”, she asked.

“26.”

“I’m 27.”

Sera started walking again.

“Fine”, she said as Ian was struggling to keep up with her. “We can eat together.”