Hello again, dear reader. It has been a while since we have last spoken, has it not? I do not know how long though. Time passes differently here than in other places. It is always changing, passing out of order. It can spin out of control, flying ahead of me until I can't believe I have any time left. It slows to a crawl, making every moment a century of Earth time. I wonder if time truly exists here at all. Maybe I am the one in motion and the House and the Edge remain the same. But you are not here to listen to me ramble, you are here for a story. This story is old, older than most. It came to me while I stood on the Edge, carried on the winds of Death itself. 

In the Bone Yard

     The ships dropped off more dead than usual. They buzzed away slowly, the sliver glinting in the small amount of sunlight that managed to pierce the clouds hanging over the wastelands. The Grave Digger watched in silence as the two vanished into the clouds. He didn't really need to watch them. He knew where they going. The two ships were returning to the City looming in the distance. Once they reached it they would either trade drivers or return with more corpses for him. Steady, grim work he supposed, but nothing compared to his. 

    Chen was his name. Or used to be his name. Now he was the Grave Digger. The title told the people of the City everything it needed to.

      Sighing, Chen turned from the sky and back to the work at hand. The dead lay all around him, dressed in whatever clothes they had on when they died. They were of all ages, young, old, and all manner in between. The bodies were blue, pale, and cold. None of them smelled. The City didn't tolerate the dead enough to keep them long enough to rot. As soon as the heart stopped they were loaded onto ships and brought to him. Brought to the never ending sea of bones. Here was the Bone Yard. 

    Chen moved past the newly dead to the pile from yesterday. His feet crunched over the dirt and the bones beneath his feet. As the Grave Digger, it was his job to give these poor souls their final resting place. 'Rest' was perhaps not the right word. The people of the City would never stop dying while the devastating Sickness raged. It claimed anyone it wanted, without warning or thought to age or health. The people of the City were dying. The dying would become the dead and the dead always came to Chen. 

      In the Bone Yard he would bury them. He would dig up the bones of the old and throw them aside to make room for the flesh and the skin. He would expand the Bone Yard, digging outwards from the mountains that formed a border. Eventually he would return to the old ground, digging up the now old bones to throw new bodies into the ground. A vicious cycle, but a sorely needed one. 

    Into the ground the shovel bite, gathering dirt and throwing it aside. In, turn, out. In, turn, out. A steady rhythm Chen knew well. In, turn, out. In, turn, out. It didn't take long to reach the bones. The first was a skull, followed by a spine broken in half. Chen remembered burying that one. A man, dressed well with a gold watch in his pocket. His eyes had been clawed out and his back broken. Chen imagined, like he was prone to do, that he had been a wealthy business man with a lovely family. Maybe he had a dog too. The Grave Digger reached down to fling them out of his way. 

      After all they were just bones. 

     Chen kept digging, going deeper and deeper. The dirt was removed and only the bones remained. Chen set down the shovel and stepped down into the hole. He picked up a handful of bones and threw them out. Then another handful and another. Chen had done this many times before. He was skilled and the massive grave was ready soon. 

    Crawling out, Chen walked straight to the pile of bodies. He gripped the first one firmly by a leg and arm. Pulling it to the grave he pushed it in. It rolled downwards, stopping with a dull 'thud'. Chen picked up the second one, a small and lean man. Teenager, Chen corrected himself. Barely 20 at the most. It went with the man and was followed by the rest. Chen said not a word. He watched emotionlessly as the corpses were piled high. When he was younger he used to study them. He'd guess their names, their lives and their deaths. His master would scoff at him. 

    "They're not people anymore Chen," he had said. "They died and their families threw them to us. No one remembers the dead. It's too blunt a reminder that the Sickness will come for them. So the dead come to the Bone Yard to waste away. In the end the flesh rots and all that's left of any of us is Bone. 

      His master had died four winters ago. Chen was sad to see him go. No one came to the Bone Yard. The fear of Death was too strong. Not even the guards dared show themselves to him. They flew in on their ships and flew away as fast as possible. The only reason that Chen was there was the old Grave Digger had asked for an apprentice. Chen didn't remember how he was chosen. The City was a distant memory. People were a distant memory. His Master had been it. chen buried him by the base of the mountain, in the rocks were it was too much trouble to dig a massive grave. Funerals hadn't been held since the Old Age, when the sky was said to be blue and the Sickness had yet to appear. Still, Chen showed a moment of silence. It seemed fitting. 

     Now Chen buried bodies by himself. Now he didn't study them as close as he had. They blended into each other, a twisted mess of pale faces and dead eyes. 

      Chen pulled the last body into the ground and climbed out of the hole. Picking up the shovel he began to bury the bodies. In, turn, toss. In, turn, toss. A pattern. In, turn-

     Stop. 

      Something had moved. Chen stared at the pile of corpses. Nothing moved here. The usually harsh wind had fallen still. There were no animals here, no living humans and not even the insects moved while Chen was watching. 

     But something moved. Chen put the shovel down. His heart was twisting in his chest, almost hurting. What moved? One of the arms shifted. Chen jumped back. When it didn't move again his courage came back. The Grave Digger crawled into the hole and stared at the body. It was obviously dead, gaping sores of the Sickness all over it's skin. It moved though....

       Chen kicked the body, watching for signs of movement. He rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was hallucinating. His Master had warned him it might happen. Being all alone in the Bone Yard drove people insane. "Too much time alone, not enough talking. It happens to all of us, the living dead."

      I'm not insane, not yet anyway. 

       A moan. Chen nearly scrambled out of the hole. Eyes wide he stared at the body. It came again, a whispery moan from beneath the corpses. Not insane. I'm not insane. Chen drew in a shaky breath and rolled the body away. 

       His heart stopped. 

      The corpse he was staring at let out a ragged moan. The body lay face down, dressed in tattered, light blue shirt. There was nothing to distingush the boy from the rest of the corpses....expect that he was breathing. 

      Chen rushed forward, scooping the boy into his arms. He was definitely breathing, his chest rising and falling slightly. Chen stared at him, not sure what to do. No one had lived through being brought here. If you weren't dead by the time the ships made it to the Bone Yard, the fall alone would be enough to kill anyone. I don't know what to do! Chen's mind was racing. Should he wake him up? Check for wounds? Contact the City?

     Chen shook his head. Contacting the City would have to wait. He was allowed one message at the beginning of each month. He had sent his list of supplies out less than two days ago. He was alone. 

      The boy moaned again, clearly in pain. Chen clung to him, fearful of letting him go. Somewhere in the back of his mind he saw his Master dying. Letting go of people meant they died. So he tightned his grip on the boy. Chen tried to look him over, searching for any obvious wounds. The boy was tiny, pale, with bruises covering his bare arms and neck. 

     How could something so fragile live through this death?

     Chen, almost trembling, carefully brushed away the boy's hair away from his face. The boy's eyes were shut tightly, scrunching up his dirty face. Chen leaned downwards, holding his breath as he listened for a heartbeat. Now there was no noise in the Bone Yard, not even the sound of wind. Just his hearbeat and the boy's. A steady rhythm faintly echoing through the stillness. 

     You're insane....

      Chen did the only thing he could think of. He stood up and carried the boy to his home. Insane or not, he needed to take care of him. 

       The Grave Digger's house wasn't much to look at. It was made of stone and tarp, a tent really. It stood against the sharp rise of the mountains, the towering stone keeping the wind gusts to a minuim. Inside was small and dark, a single room lit by a candle. Chen gently placed the boy on his bed. He was scared he'd damage him further. He wasn't used to handling the living. 

     Once the boy was safely put down, Chen covered him with a blanket and sat down beside him. The boy curled up into a tight ball, face buried in the pillow. Chen smiled at the sight, reaching out to the brown hair. What am I going to do now? He wondered. When will he wake up, how will I explain this to him? And the nagging question he had no answer to. Will he go back to the City?

   The Grave Digger decided the boy needed him the most. Despite having work to do, he stayed by his side. He took off the tattered shirt and replaced it with one of his white ones. He was pleased to see the boy looked better once the dirt was scrubbed off and the shirt gone. The boy was thin, small in every way except for his round cheeks. The boy was cute. 

        A piece of paper in the tattered shirt's pocket had a word written on it. Xiumin. Nothing more. No other clue to his identity or tale. Chen took it mean that the boy's name was Xiumin. At least he knew that. 

     While the days turned into an entire week, the bodies began to rot. New corpses were thrown on top of the rotting. The pilots realized he wasn't working. They buzzed by his house once, almost like they were trying to drive him out. Chen didn't move from Xiumin's side and they left. 

     Still he went back to burying bodies the next day. He was still the Grave Digger and the bodies really did smell. The week turned into two, than three. At the beginning of the fourth week Chen thought he'd imagined the heartbeat and the moans. The thought made him angry. Had he been lonely enough to bring a corpse into his house? Rage and self disgust coursed through him. You're insane, you're insane. Chen stomped into the house, determined to throw Xiumin away. 

     Then he saw Xiumin was awake. 

     Chen froze, mouth hanging open. He's alive....The steady rhythm of his heart turned irregular, pounding faster than normal. Chen took a step back, suddenly wanting to flee from the dark brown eyes staring at him from the bed. His feet began to move without his consent. They dragged him closer, daringly taking him to the edge of the bed. Xiumin stared at him, face twisted in confusion. 

     I don't know what to do....

      Chen held out his hand, trying to remember the words he'd spoken to his Master years ago. He realized he hadn't spoken since his Master had died. 

       "I----I----a-m---th-t-t-t" he trailed off miserably. The sounds stuck in his throat, tasting like sandpaper. He tried again. "Ch-ch-cheeeennn."

       Xiumin smiled, surpising Chen. The boy reached out to take his hand. Chen stared at him, trying to calm his pounding heart. It was loud, too loud. He was sure Xiumin could hear it. "Y-ou?" he asked awkwardly. His mind was reaching for the words he'd barely used even when his master had been alive. 

      His smile vanished. Chen was horrified by the tears coming to Xiumin's eyes. The boy withdrew his hand, rubbing his throat apologetically. Chen realized he was mute. 

     "Xiumin," Chen said, the words getting easier to say. "I thi-ink you-....are Xiumin."

     He nodded and Chen was glad he got something right. He tried to explain the situation. "You're in the Bone Y-ard," he said. "With-me."

     Xiumin frowned, tiliting his head off to one side. The smile returned. Chen smiled back, not remembering when he had last smiled. Xiumin reached out for Chen's hand, taking the bigger one in his own. Chen gripped it firmly. He couldn't take his eyes off Xiumin's smile. He realized his heart had stopped beating for moment. 

      Xiumin. 

     From that day on Xiumin lived with Chen in the Bone Yard. At first Xiumin was still weak, unable to walk long distances. Chen would pick him (oh so carefully) into his arms and carry him out in the quiet world. He brought a blanket with them, spreading it on the ground so he could have Xiumin close to him as he dug the massive graves the never ending supply of bodies demanded. The first time he did it he thought Xiumin would be disgusted, maybe afraid. Xiumin showed no signs of fear or revulsion. When he was able to walk, the boy would pick up the blanket and follow Chen willingly. Chen liked it. He talked to Xiumin, finding the words slipping out without problems. Xiumin would nod, smile, and sometimes roll his eyes. 

      Chen wasn't sure, but he thought he was in love. 

       When two months passed he realized he had yet to alert the City about Xiumin. The more Chen thought about it the more he decided against it. What could anyone do anyway? The ships were too afraid to land, much less take on a passenger. The City feared the dead more than anything. They feared the Sickness that had erupted ffrom nowhere and struck them down relentlessly. They feared the Grave Digger, the ultimate sign of what was coming for them. If Xiumin went back now Chen had no doubt he would see the boy again soon. He would come bearing the marks of the City's wrath and this time he would be dead for sure. 

    A hand slipped around his, pulling Chen away from his night pacing. He turned to Xiumin. "What is it?" he asked gently, gripping his hand tightly. Xiumin smiled softly, taking Chen's other hand. Chen cocked his head to the side. "Did I wake you?"

     Xiumin shook his head. He began to sway side to side, dancing to some unheard music. Clumsily, Chen tried to move along with him. Xiumin laughed noiselessly at him. Chen's hands slipped around the smaller boy's waist and they danced in the darkness of their home.

      The idea occured to him that maybe Xiumin's family was wealthy and powerful enough to keep their son alive. The tattered blue shirt lay in a chest by their bed, treasured by Chen. It was made of silk, expensive. If Xiumin came from a family like that, he might be safe returning to the City. 

      I don't want him to go, Chen shook his head at the guilty thought. But....what family throws away their child? He sighed, burying his face into Xiumin's hair. They swayed together, Xiumin's arms wrapped around Chen. The boy was cold in his arms, a worrying thought. Not as worrying as the Ships taking Xiumin away though. Nothing about the boy added up. No story fully explained him. He had nowhere to go back to and no way of getting there safely.  

      Maybe it was better that way. 

      Xiumin pulled his head back, craning his neck to look up at Chen. The smile was gone, replaced with an emotion that Chen would have could called regret. The look vanished and Xiumin buried his face in Chen's chest once more. Gripping the boy almost harshly to him, Chen felt his heart stop again. 

      He really was in love. 

     After that night Chen began to change things. He more carefuly with Xiumin, making sure the boy was never outside when the ships came. He didn't explain but Xiumin never asked. He also began to watch Xiumin more closely. He noticed Xiumin always cold no matter what they did. He was pale and thin, scaringly so at times. Chen would voice his worries aloud and Xiumin would laugh at him. The boy would dance off through the bones, looking like he belonged with the dead. 

      It wasn't right. Chen thought. No one could live through being brought here, not through being housed with the bodies and dropped from the ships....When Chen thought like that his heart fell out of rhythm and he felt like he was drowing. The first time it hapened he couldn't even move. He stood lifelessly in the grave he dug, staring at Xiumin. The way he moved in the wind, his white shirt making him seem like a ghost. 

      Am I insane? Chen wondered. Like what Master said?

     Xiumin turned around, smiling. Chen couldn't stop himself. He reached out for him because he needed to touch him to make sure he was really there. Suddenly  he felt like if he wasn't touching Xiumin he wasn't there at all. Xiumin stuck his tongue out and ran back towards their house. Chen stood frozen to the ground, hand reaching after him. 

      I'm not insane, I'm not insane....

     Xiumin came back, hair tousled by the wind. He moved closer to Chen, pressing himself against him. Chen took him in his arms and kissed his forehead. He sighed and carressed the boy's plump cheek with his thumb. Xiumin, standing on the tips of his feet, kissed him on the lips. Chen barely felt it. It was like the wind had brushed over them. In that moment Chen know he was done for. 

      Xiumin pulled away from him and flitted away. Chen just shook his head. Whoever, whatever Xiumin was, it was too late. He'd fallen hard. Being Insane isn't the worst thing I could be. 

       A year passed, or what the Grave Digger thought was a year. Time was not something he was too particular on marking. The skies turned darker and snow began to fall. Now the corspes froze solid on the ice-cover ground. Chen had nothing to in the winter. He couldn't dig graves. So he moved them into one large pile and let the snow cover them all. He took out his winter clothes, refitting some to fit the smaller frame of Xiumin. Chen chose his white coat to give to Xiumin. He couldn't imagine him in any other color. 

       Chen found out that Xiumin liked the snow, but he hated being cold. Chen found it ironic as Xiumin was always cold to his touch. Freezing at times. He watched as Xiumin leapt and ran in the snow until his ears turned red. Then he'd run to him to be held. The Grave Digger laughed, but he always let him come. 

     Xiumin lit up the Bone Yard like nothing ever had. 

     It didn't reall matter if he was real or not. 

    What did matter was the day Xiumin vanished. 

     It was the middle of the night. Chen bolted awake, a horrible feeling gnawing at his bones. "Xiumin?" he called out, hand groping for the boy. "Where are you? Xiumin?" 

      He crawled out of bed, voice sharp now. Xiumin wasn't in the house. Chen felt his heart rip apart piece by piece. He ran from the house, desperetly searching for him. "XIUMIN?" he screamed into the whirling snow. "XIUMIN!"

     There was no answer. 

      Chen searched the entire night. When day came he threw aside his lantern and kept going. There was nothing. No tracks, no clues. The snow hadn't been disturbed. The only sign of movement was where the ships blew it away as they sped down to drop off the bodies. Chen kept returning there. The only way he could think of Xiumin disappering was if the ships had taken him away. 

        He cried at the thought. Chen couldn't follow Xiumin to the City. Even if he could he had no way of finding him. Was he with his family? Did someone kill him for his placce among the dead? If so why wasn't his body there? The thoughts made him shake violently. Clenching his hands, he moved faster across the ice. There were no signs of Xiumin, no trace he had ever existed. 

       Did he exist at all?

       Chen stopped. If he'd made Xiumin up, then the boy truly did vanish. There could be no traces of a daydream . I'm insane, I'm insane, I'm insane....NO. He in a deep breath. I can't give up. 

      Chen kept searching for Xiumin, not caring if he'd imagined him. He kept watch over the plains of the dead, lighting a lantern at night so that Xiumin could always find him. He walked over the wastelands, all the way to the very edges of the Bone Yards. He walked in shadows and in storms, but he did not found Xiumin. In despair he turned to the bodies themselves. Haunted, he looked through every body. Still he did not find Xiumin among the dead. 

      It helped a little. 

      Chen sat down among the bones. He stared at a white skull half-buried in dirt. It looked sad, almost as if it too was mourning the loss of Xiumin. The seasons were changing now. The snow was quickly melting and the winds growing less bitter. Soon the ground would be soft enough to dig. The graves would have to be dug. It would take time away from his search. 

     A roaring noise signalled the coming of a ship. Wearily Chen looked into the sky. The ship appeared, the bottom groaning open and the corpses dropped. He turned away. Xiumin is gone....I'm either insane or he's been taken from me. He didn't know what was worse. Chen didn't move as the sound of the bodies rolled down the hills. He hated the dead now. Every time they came he felt the impossible flicker of hope that Xiumin would be with them. That he would moan and Chen would save him again. 

     He hoped he wouldn't be alone anymore.

     But as Chen stared at the corpses he knew he was going to be alone forever. Love didn't exist in the Bone Yard. The Bone Yard was the home of the dead. For bodies and him. For lonely, bitter, insane people like him. Xiumin was beautiful, he didn't belong there. He belonged above the clouds, away from the dirt and dead. 

       Chen stood, picking up his shovel. He walked towards the new bodies, preparing himself for the work ahead. Sighing he looked at the twisted, bloated bodies. Whatever had killed them, be it the Sickness or murder, it had not been kind. He surveyed the ground, decided the best place to put the large pile. 

        The ship had dropped off more dead than usual. 

       That is the tale, dear one. A disjointed, sad tale. Was Chen insane? I think not. Some people are meant to meet, whether they be alive or dead. They are meant to wander into each other's lives, touching each other in beautiful, harsh ways. Then they are meant to be gone. Beautiful things rarely last forever, but that's part of what makes them beautiful. They are rare treasures to be remembered. Dear reader, on Earth you appoach a New Year full of new chances, possibities and people. Look for the beautiful moments and throw aside the ugly. I've seen many stories full of many sad things, when your story comes to me, I hope it will end happily. 

   Happy New Year Everyone!