The Dead Held The Answers

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window."

I see you all expect my campfire story to begin with that old cabin in the woods, but I’ve a surprise for you. My campfire story I want to tell you tonight is a wee bit different to what you are expecting.

Sit back , relax and enjoy.

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Sadly, I was orphaned as a very young child and because of this I was raised in the foster system. Not ideal for any child but certainly not one that has lived a life of trauma.

When I was two years of age, evil personified decided to rob my parents’ general store and while this was happening, he also decided to take their lives.

Hence why I am an orphan. It was only sheer luck that I was left with a babysitter that day, as I would usually go to work with Mum. If I’d been there would he have killed me too? I guess I’ll never know!

Life in the foster system is nothing to write home about, but as I am being shuffled from pillar to post, I spend a lot of time alone, as you can imagine. I try to be invisible and blend in as much as possible.

It is during this alone time, that I discover I am a little different, unique in a special way.

This discovery happens when I turn thirteen years of age. I find myself in the local cemetery where I love to hang out, pretending the dead are my friends, my family, my long lost parents.

You can imagine my surprise this day when I was chatting away with a nineteen year old young man who had died in the war, when he suddenly rose from his grave, right in front of me.

I am surprised for sure but I’m not scared. I’ve always felt an affiliation to the dead. I thought it was due to the loss of my parents, but no it looks like I have a special ability, to raise the dead for a short period of time.

Short period of time is not an exaggeration. I also discover that the dead raised, would vanish back into their grave after just a few minutes.

From that moment on, every opportunity I had, I would head to the cemetery and practice with my new ability. After six months of practicing, I realise I could put this ability to good use.

It is at this time, that I decide to ask the dead to help me find the man who had robbed and killed my parents, as to this day he has never been caught.

During one of my practice sessions, I realise that the best time to raise the dead to get the best result, is during the gloaming. You know that time of the day where the sun has just set but it is not quite dark yet. This seems to be a magical time, as my dead can stay for as long as five minutes.

So every day after school, I head to the cemetery and wait for that special time of the day. For the brief short period of the gloaming, I start at one end of the cemetery and wake each dead member, asking them if they could help me with any information of the crime that took my parents.

Most of the dead aren’t interested or have no idea of what I am talking about, but every now and again I’ll raise that one person that will give me a nugget of a clue. Nothing earth shattering, just enough that it would give me clear guidelines for the next question to ask.

There is certainly an easier way to get this information and that is to raise my parents but to be honest, I don’t think emotionally I could cope with that.

Therefore, it was a slow old race to the finish line the way I was doing it, but that’s okay too.

Month after month passes and each day I continue with my practice, raising dead after dead, until I get another tiny nugget of information.

Then one especially beautiful gloaming, I raise the dead person that was next in line from the person I raised yesterday. The headstone engraving tells me this is a thirty year old man who had been shot and killed during a robbery.

As he climbs out of his grave and I begin to question him, he holds up his hand, while telling me he has the information I am looking for. He quickly explains that he has been blamed for the robbery and murders by a police officer.

He then tells me the entire story.

A police officer accused him of the robbery and murder of my parents, when in fact it was the officer who committed this crime. He went on to explain he had witnessed the crime , as he was about to walk into the store when the robbery took place. As he realised what was happening, he watched from outside, looking through the glass front doors.

Unfortunately, the police officer saw him after he had killed my parents. He explains that he ran but a week later, while he was in another store, that corrupt officer walked in and shot him. The officer then reported a robbery in progress but advised he had shot the perpetrator in self defence.

I am so heartbroken for this young man and so I let him know, I will take his story to the newspaper. I want to not only clear his name but get justice for my parents at the same time.

At this point the young man vanishes back into his grave.

I’m not sure how I’m going to convince the newspapers that my story is true. I mean seriously, I’ve no chance if I own up to how I know.

But I promise no matter what, I will convince them if it takes me the rest of my life and once I do succeed, I’m going to reward myself by raising my parents and telling them the true story of how their lives ended!

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Originally posted on Medium