things you said to my grave
Sameen never thought she would make this a regular occurrence. The first time she’d come, she thought the world was ending and that there was a good chance she was going to catch a bullet. She’d had to cut that meeting short to avoid catching said bullet. But the world ended, she got her dog, and Shaw still found herself visiting an unmarked grave at least once a month, despite the fact that there wasn’t even a body there to begin with.
Normally, she didn’t say much, choosing instead to brush away dead leaves and twigs, and to make sure that it was as neat as it could be. Bear sat dutifully by her side while she looked down at the marker. Without that marker, Shaw wouldn’t even be able to tell that there was a grave there, with the grass having grown over all the disturbance in the dirt.
Month in, month out, Shaw came, with no real pattern discernible. Hell, half the time she didn’t know she’d end up there until she found herself walking through the markers. Sometimes she stayed for ten minutes, other times for two hours. The only consistent thing through it all was the buzzing in the back of her head that told her that something was wrong. Something was off. The skin behind her ear was always rubbed raw after one of these visits, but no matter how much time passed, Shaw could never force a glitch. The simulation kept going.
Winter came and went, with snow sticking to the ground, and Shaw still visited. Hands shoved deep into her pockets, chin tucked into her coat, with her scarf icing over from her breath. Every time, she took a couple moments to brush the snow off of the numbers she had memorized. It was harder during the winter, a season she already hated. Every day felt like the same. Gray and overcast and miserable.
Then spring came with its rains and the mud. She trudged through the grass, watching as flowers and weeds popped up everywhere. She cleared the weeds out but left the flowers. She probably would have liked them, and it’s not like Shaw ever brought any. But the flowers didn’t bring her back either.
As the weather warmed up, heading towards the humidity of summer again, Shaw walked up the hill and felt the sun warming her through her jacket. Worn leather, with patched holes and sleeves just a little too long for her. Bear trotted beside her today, tugging on the leash a little more than usual because he could sense something was different about today. Each tug brought Sameen back from her thoughts, from the brink of something dark and nebulous.
Today, she didn’t let herself touch the skin behind her ear. She didn’t want to try and force a glitch and be inevitably furious when it didn’t happen. A couple months ago, she had split her knuckles on the wall of her loft because she thought the pain might end the simulation. A year past, and still a part of her clung to the tiniest shred of hope that she’d wake up in Samaritan’s facilities to start it all over, because at least she wouldn’t have to visit an empty, unmarked grave every month.
“Good news. Digital Armageddon didn’t become a full blown one. People still walking around cheating on their wives and not knowing how close they came to some Terminator bullshit.”
She felt stupid for talking like this. She wanted to turn away and leave, to come back in a month to see if maybe the words would magically appear between now and then. A year gone, and this still wasn’t her thing. With a sigh, Sameen crouched down and placed a small stone next to the marker, an arrow carved into its surface. It would probably be gone by the time she came next, but coming empty-handed didn’t seem like the right thing. Not today.
Shaw cleared her throat and shuffled her feet before picking up Bear’s leash.
“Happy birthday, Root.”
