The long path through pale orange fog leads I do not know where. I walk this path for what seems like days but it never changes. The sun, or is it the moon, sits at the same place, each time I look. The trees bend over, barely touching yet impenetrable when I try to pass. How did I come here? Why did I come here? I am lost in a forest of mist and fog and know not why. Once I knew where I was going, knew who I was, but now I keep walking. Maybe when I reach the end of this path, I will know who I am. When will this forest end and life begin again?
When did we become something silly? Big heads and tiny bodies, made out of a ball and some yarn? Really now? Once we were poppets, used by witches to curse people. Then we were voodoo dolls, made to look like a person and take control of them. Now? Now we are cute little things, hanging on key chains or strings attached to book bags. I am so ashamed!
My great uncle ten times removed was used to take down a tyrant and my great great grandma was used to take down a slave owner. Me? Well I get used by a wannabe goth child to make her teacher sick enough to cancel a test. Really? A test! Life is so unfair! I wanted to be used for something great, something important, but no, I get used for a test. What happened to the good old days!
I walk slowly forward, my feet dragging in reluctance. Today I have given up, allowed them to place you in your grave. Nothing I could do would bring you back to me. As I watch them heap the stones over your face, I stand like those very stones. You told me you would come back to me, that everything would be all right, but you lied. Nothing is right, will ever be right again. As they build the barrow about your body, the part of me that loved life is buried with you. Tonight, after they all leave, I will join you here, my love. They say that I must let you go, but my heart will not go on. There are enough stones for two.