My footsteps ripped through eerie silence as I walked down rows of tomb stones. I fixated my gaze on the one I'd come to visit. Branches of trees reached out as though groping for an unseen prize.
The smell of old stones and dust filled the air. Gravel crunched underneath my feet as I proceeded, counting each step.
Underneath each tomb stone laid an empty shell, what was left of someone who had once been living. Here they were, faded into nothingness, devoid of any emotions, leaving nothing but memories.
Dad would have hated this place. Had he had a choice, he wouldn't be here. He'd always hated extended moments of silence, especially one as eerie as this.
My eyes searched every tomb stone in sight, hoping to find Cynthia's name engraved somewhere. Although I knew how pointless this was, I couldn't help it. After her disappearance from the morgue, Raheem and I had visited every graveyard in Port Harcourt, but none of them had Cynthia's body. So where had she been buried?
I arrived at dad's grave and sagged to the ground. Tears stung my eyes and blurred my vision. "Dad, if you hadn't left, none of this would have happened."
Although he could hear nothing I said, pouring out my heart to him would bring some measure of relief. I would rather spend the rest of my day here, with him, amongst the dead, than ruin it with the sight of that vile woman. The dead, after all, could not harm me. But the living could.
Climbing atop the grave, I curled into a ball and closed my eyes. I thought back to those moments I had him with me. I could stay in his arms without saying a word. He, more than anyone else, had understood the unspoken words embedded in my silence.
Today, just like the good old days, I would fall asleep in his arms. It didn't take long for sleep to find me. I embraced it with open arms.