RANDAL MASON
Beloved son and friend 1988-2017
The words were carved boldly on the gravestone. Julian stared at the gravestone with an empty look. Nancy stood beside him, holding his hand. Her expression somber as her blue eyes focused on the gravestone from beneath her glasses. The couple had been like that for some minutes. There was total silence. No one said a word. No one made a sound.
A lot went through Julian's head at the moment. It had been a year since the horrid and paranormal experience he went through. Cheryl was still detained although there was hope. Trish had found a good lawyer and the case was going to be reopened. It was the least she could do. She felt an obligation to make up for her guilt of betraying her friend by sleeping with her boyfriend. It felt like she was on an emotional roller coaster.
Julian made sure he paid visits to Randal's family twice a week. They had been distraught by his death. Especially his mother. The poor woman couldn't spend a day without weeping. It took eight months and constant visits to placate her. His father however would easily get distracted, staring into space with a sullen expression.
Nancy spared a glance at Julian. The wound he received on his forehead from the fight last year had healed. But it left a scar. A thick red horizontal scar above his left eyebrow. Nancy remembered when he would look at the mirror and frown at his reflection. The scar was a permanent reminder that he went through hell. It was a reminder that despite the fact that he clawed his way out and triumphed, lives were lost in the process. It reminded him that his best friend was gone. To make things worse, Randal had to be buried in that same graveyard. The graveyard which never held any good memories. The same graveyard Julian killed 'her'. How he hated that scar.
Shaking his head and blinking back to reality, he turned to Nancy.
"Come on," He said. "Let's go."
"Okay." She replied.
As Nancy shut the gate on their way out, she asked.
"Will she ever return?"
Julian dug his hands deep in his pockets and frowned. He knew what Nancy meant. He couldn't blame her for asking that question. She had endured constant nightmares after that horrid encounter. He turned to face her.
"No, she won't," Julian said. "Malorca won't be that stupid. She should be aware by now that if she ever dares to do so, history will inevitably repeat itself. For someone who was intelligent and a supposed parapsychologist, I'm surprised she never read about Greek mythology."
"What do you mean?" Nancy asked.
"If she did," Julian replied. " She would have known what happened to King Sisyphus."
Nancy burst into fits of laughter. She held him to steady herself and soon her infectious laughter had its effects on him.
For the first time in years, a smile appeared on his face.