I kept running, my pulse hammering out a beat inside the crook of my neck, adrenaline pushing me to go farther, faster.

I did, and my muscles screamed in protest.

My hair stuck to my forehead and nape like a ghastly curse, but I couldn’t stop and move it away from my face.

Not until I had put at least ten blocks of space between that and my sprinting self.

What had I seen?

Well, I had been paying some respects to family members in the graveyard.

I had taken a bouquet of white lilies with me, grandma’s favorite. I had laid them down on her tombstone when a blinding light seared my eyes.

I had blinked, disoriented, until I got my bearings and squinted in the dark night to see where the blast had originated from.

What I had seen made my heart tear into two: should I laugh or should I cry?

A tombstone stood only a few meters away from me, a coffin-sized hole dug before it and white letters burning into the stone.

The word had sent a both humorous and horrified shock to my core.

Vacancy.