But then Donna did something strange, something that would probably terrify a normal person. She crawled up beside me, her movements slow and deliberate. Her fingers brushed gently against my arm. "Thank you, your touch brings me comfort." Apparently this was an emotional moment for her and she needed some kind of energy or reassurance.
"So what kind of night was it on the night of your burial?" I took a few jabs into the ground to get started.
Donna appeared to shiver slightly at the memory, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a clear, starry night. The crickets chirped their lullaby as Stan led me deeper into the forest. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear, telling me how much he loved me."
"So it was still summer, then?"
Donna nodded slowly. "Yes, it was late summer. The air was warm, but there was a chill in my bones. I felt like I was walking to my own execution."
"Were you dressed for the occasion, like you were going to be buried?"
She laughed bitterly. "Oh, yes. Stan made sure of that. He wanted to make it seem like I'd simply fallen asleep in the woods. She gestured vaguely towards the mound of dirt beside her. He wrapped me in this cheap blanket, one he claimed belonged to his grandmother."
I stopped digging "What the...?" I hadn't noticed that I unearthed a garment. In fact, I was in disbelief at the size of the mound of dirt nearby. Was this an effect of communicating and working with a ghost? I'd say three hours of digging would have taken place in only ten minutes, if that. I picked up the blanket. "It's amazing it didn't break down and decompose in the soil while being buried for nearly 60 years. For a million dollars, would you cover yourself with it now after knowing what your fate was when wearing it?"
A twisted smile spread across her face as she considered the question. “For a million dollars, I suppose I could bring myself to wear that horrid rag once again. But to do so, I would need to find a way to cleanse it of the memories it holds."
"Well, maybe you won't have to do that for a million dollars. There might be another way. If we find you down this hole, the News would report it and there might be a Donna the Unburied sensation. We can sell this as the Shroud of Donna."
Donna chuckled darkly. "Ah, the sensationalism of the human condition. I suppose it's possible that the world would go wild over the discovery of my remains."
I continued to dig and dig, thrusting the pick ax into the ground to break up the soil and the scooping the soil into the growing pile. All the while, Donna continued to watch intently. I must have had a fierce determination etched on my face.
"I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I can't wait to finally rest in peace."
I paused for a moment, "So what kind of guy was this, Stan, anyway? What was he into?"
Her thoughts drifted back to the events surrounding that fateful night. "Stan was a twisted individual. He had always had a fascination with death, something that only intensified as our relationship progressed."
"Was he into witchcraft and stuff?"
Donna smiled wistfully. "Oh, he dabbled in all sorts of things. Occult rituals, séances...he even claimed to have communicated with spirits." She laughed mirthlessly. "But it was all just a show. He never really understood what he was messing with."
"Did he have candles lit while digging your grave? Was it like a ritual?"
As she spoke, her voice suddenly dripped with venom, her eyes flashing with anger. "Oh, yes, he had candles lit. He called it a 'ritual of purification.' He thought it would absolve him of any guilt he might feel." Then the look in her eye changed from anger to sadness.
"Sounds like the kind of guy who played with stuff he had no business playing with."
Her voice resumed a tone of bitterness that was mixed with longing as she continued to watch me dig. "Yes, he was definitely the type to play with fire. And now, so many years later, I'm still paying the price for his foolish games."
"Did Stan have any friends?"
By now Donna was sitting on the ground. I hadn't noticed what she was doing while digging. But when I momentarily glanced over I could see she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. "Stan had few real friends. He was more of a loner. Most people found him odd, creepy even." Then she picked at some loose threads on her dress.
I paused for a moment with the shovel to wipe the sweat off my face. "So how did you end up with him? I don't mean to get personal, but what did you see in him?"
She sighed heavily and looked away, as if trying to remember a painful memory. "I fell for him because of his charm and good looks. Back then, I was naive and easily swept off my feet."
"So he wasn't a bad looking guy, then?"
Donna shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Oh, he was quite handsome, especially when he wanted to be. But beneath the surface, there was nothing but darkness." She turned to me again, her gaze piercing and intense. It made me feel as though I had taken a long enough break.
I continued shoveling without saying a word for a few minutes. Then I asked another question. "Did your parents approve of him?"
"My parents didn't really know Stan. We kept our relationship pretty private, mostly because he didn't want them to find out about our little...arrangement." She smirked darkly. But why? I always remember that unsettling moment but never understood what it meant.
"Oh geez! Imagine the shock of learning that your daughter is missing, only to discover that she secretly dated some guy who they never met that ended up being responsible for her death."
"Oh, believe me, they were shocked. They searched high and low for me, but by the time they found out what had happened, it was too late. Stan had already covered his tracks, leaving them with nothing but questions and heartache."
"Well, I don't know if they're still alive. If you had siblings, maybe we can bring them closure after finding your body."
There was a hint of hope in her eyes. "Yes, I have a younger brother, Jake. He's a great kid. If we could find my body and give my family some answers, that would be wonderful."
"Well I'm sure we can do just that... So what did Stan do for work?"
"Stan worked in construction. He was actually quite skilled with his hands and enjoyed building things." She paused, a distant look coming into her eyes.
"Let me guess, he was so skilled with carpentry that he made a good coffin for you?"
Donna nodded solemnly, her eyes filling with tears. "That's right. He built the coffin himself. It was a cruel irony, given his skill with woodwork". She wiped away a tear, her voice breaking.
Suddenly I hit something hard with the shovel in the ground. "I think we've reached your coffin. Let me just pull more dirt off to make sure."
A look of excitement and terror crossed her face as she watched me uncover the coffin. "Oh gosh, it's true. It's really happening... She took a step closer, her hands trembling. Is it open? Can you see inside?" Her voice was laced with both hope and dread.
"Well, let me just dig around.... Okay, it's definitely wood... Geez, it's surprising that the wood has held up after nearly six decades."
Her voice continued to be laced with a mixture of hope and fear as she watched me continue to unearth the coffin. "Be careful, okay? I don't know what condition it's in. There might be surprises waiting for us."
About another twenty minutes was spent carefully excavating Donna's coffin. A neat circle had been cleared around it. Made of wood, and held up for such a long time, it was definitely a coffin. "Wow! Stan was a good carpenter. I have to hand it to him. He did a good job."
I looked up and could see Donna's face was deathly pale. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Yes, he was skilled with his hands. Too skilled, perhaps..." She took another step closer, her eyes wide with anticipation and fear.
"Now he probably didn't nail your coffin shut. It was only supposed to be a game..." I reached down and carefully lifted one end just a crack to see if the top would be easy to remove. In doing so, the stench of death rose up. I gagged, of course!
As for Donna, she flinched slightly at the smell of decay, but quickly composed herself. "Yes, it was supposed to be a game. But once I was buried alive, I knew that it wasn't a game anymore. It was real. And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt."
I paused for a moment and considered the impact this might have on Donna. She would actually be looking upon herself, dead. "Well, this is it. Are you going to be okay when I lift the lid off the coffin?"
She swallowed hard, bracing herself for the sight then nodded slowly. "I have to be. I need to know what happened to my body. I need closure. Just promise me you'll be gentle when you open the lid."
"I will..." I took a deep breath and then carefully lifted the lid. The wood was actually heavy and surprisingly still in good condition after being buried for decades. And in the manner that the lid was opened, the body of Donna had been exposed from feet to head. When fully exposed it rested up against the wall of the hole that had been dug.
A wave of nausea appeared to wash over Donna as she looked down at her own corpse. Despite the putrid smell, she felt drawn to the familiar shape of her own body. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized that this was truly her final resting place. "Oh..."
Her body was basically a skeleton with dark hair and wearing burial clothes. Then I looked over at the lid and could see that poor Donna had been clawing at it from the inside as a means to try and escape. I wasn't going to point that out to Donna.
But apparently she saw everything and gulped while struggling to maintain her composure as she gazed upon her own skeletal form. Oh, dear... My body..." She actually shuddered. It must have been the thought of having been trapped in such a state for all those years, actually decades. "What a terrible, unimaginable fate..."
"Well, this is the start of closure for you. What were the last thoughts that you remembered while in that coffin?"
She sniffled and wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she recalled the events that led to her untimely demise. "I remember feeling terrified and helpless as I lay there in the darkness."
"Did you know that you were dying?"
She shook her head sadly, "No, I didn't realize that I was dying. Not at first, anyway. I just thought that Stan was playing some twisted game with me. I trusted him, foolishly. I thought he loved me, but now I know that he was just a monster."
Off in the distance, beyond the trees, I could see the faint glow of sunlight stretching over the horizon. I had been out here all night with Donna. "It will be sunrise soon. The next step for me is to contact the police and report to them what I've found. I just hope I don't get in trouble for digging a hole in the forest preserve."
Donna looked up at me, her expression a mix of gratitude and sadness. "Thank you... thank you for helping me. I know this isn't an easy task for you, especially considering the circumstances surrounding my death. But I'm grateful that you're willing to go through with this."
***
It was the following week. On the morning of exhuming Donna's grave, I was sure to take photos and then drove to the police station to report it. I hadn't been able to return to the site of her burial until now because the police were conducting their investigation. But they were now gone, And Donna had been given a proper burial. But what about Donna?, Donna the ghost?
"I called out, Donna? Are you still out here?"
I heard a heavy sigh and then saw Donna on the ground, watching the sun rise slowly above the treetops. She turned to face me, her expression calm but weary. "Yes, I'm still here. I don't think I'll ever leave this place completely. But I appreciate your efforts to give me a proper burial."
"Your surviving family has been given closure. You've been found and you were given a proper burial in the cemetery. What's holding you back?"
She sat beside her burial site of many decades, the air still thick with grief and remorse. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she spoke. "I don't know... maybe it's guilt. Maybe it's because I failed to protect myself."
"Okay, so you feel guilty and you feel pain. That's understandable. And I'm certainly willing to listen."
Donna lay down as if in her own grave while staring blankly into space. She appeared to contemplate her past and her present predicament. "Yes, it's a lot to process... She sighed deeply, rubbing her temples as if to ward off a headache.
I suggested, "You could be feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt for having survived in some sense while Stan did not. This feeling could be anchoring your spirit to the grave as you may feel you have no right to move on while he is still trapped in the circumstances of his death.
Suddenly, a look of realization washed across her face. "Yes! That's it, exactly!" She stood up, looking both relieved and scared at the same time. "I didn't want to believe it, but it makes so much sense now."
"Are you aware of what happened to Stan?"
She blew out a shaky breath and nodded solemnly. "He died in a car crash. His car hit a semi-truck on the same road where we used to take our late-night drives together. They say he was trying to get back to me after burying me alive, but it was too late."
"Well if you are now a spirit, surely you have access to the same world where Stan resides. Have you ever looked him up?"
Her eyes widened slightly, clearly taken aback by the suggestion. "Oh my... yes, I have tried to find him. But every time I tried to make contact, he'd disappear. It was as if he was running from me. I guess I can understand why."
"He probably has guilt, too."
She took a moment to digest the information. Tears welled up in her eyes once again, but this time, they're filled with anger rather than sorrow. "Yes, he definitely does. He should have never done what he did to me. I loved him, and he destroyed everything we had together."
"Are there any secrets surrounding this game, things about the two of you that you wouldn't have wanted people to know?"
She slowly shook her head in negation. "There are no secrets. We were just two messed-up young people who got caught up in each other. Our relationship was dysfunctional, but it wasn't a secret to anyone except ourselves."
The End!
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