James : 8th November 1872 aged 7

I never thought i would see my forever home quite as soon as 7yrs old. i had only lived in this small market town for 2 years. I originally came from Sheffield but my family was poor and my parents couldn't afford to feed and clothe me. I was lucky that my aunt and uncle had some spare room in their house as long as I shared a room with my 9yr old cousin Mark. He was quite a bit taller than me but we got on really well. My uncle and aunt were ropemakers in the factory up the lane. They worked hard and so weren' t around much.

Mark and I had daily chores around my uncles house, we got up early every day to let the chickens out , feed them, clean them out and we had to collect the eggs obviously. I enjoyed that part of the day. I loved the chickens. I miss them so much. We also had to sweep the floors in the house and wash the wooden boards when needed. But after we had done our chores, the rest of the day was ours. 

Mark was great to play with. We had a huge back garden with a big round pond surrounded by a small brick wall so you could sit and watch the tadpoles and fish and things. 

The morning of the 8th of November began just like any other. It was cold, definately a cap and scarf day, we managed to get the chores done in record time and we went indoors to sit by the fire and warm up. After an hour we got bored. What could two boys possibly think of doing to keep them amused? We had warmed up by now and forgotten how cold it was outside so we went strolling out. Mark showed me how to blow on a blade of grass to make a funny shriek kind of sound. He showed me how to climb trees properly and he was a great tag player. 

We decided to play tag. It was still frosty but it was melting quickly under the bright sun and clear blue skies. 

We ran round for a bit and Mark asked if i had ever heard of a game called Dare. I had but i hadn't played it. So Mark dared me to run round the top of the pond on the wall and he would try and catch me. Now, i didn't want to look like a wimp so i scrammbled up onto the wall and steadied myself. It was more difficult than i thought because i hadn't realised how icy the wall was. I tentatively put one step forward and followed up with the next. I gained enough momentum to start running but i slipped. I felt my head hit the wall and i fell face first into the pond. The ice around me cracked as i splashed and tried to gasp for air but before i knew it , everything went dark. I wasn't sure what was happening at this point. I felt light and when i opened my eyes i was staring out at my body in the pond from behind the wall. Mark was screaming my name but there was no one around to help. He began running towards the neighbours house and quickly returned with the man from next door. 

He managed to heave me onto the wall and then lay me out on the floor. He felt my pulse but looked worried. My face was already deathly pale and my lips had turned blue. Mark ran to get a blanket but by the time he had come back the neighbour had run his hand over my face to close my eyes and was looking around in shock. Mark couldn't believe it when he returned. He cried out my name several times and began crying. The neighbour wrapped me up in the blanket and moved me into the house i loved so much. 

He sent Mark to get the doctor and the funeral director from the town. It was only just 9.30 and so they should be up and about. Mark was a fast runner and was back within the hour. I stood looking down at my lifeless body, all rigid and pale. The neighbour was boiling some water for a cup of tea, He had tears in his eyes.  I bent forward to try and pull back the blanket but my misty arm just slipped straight through it. I tried to hold my own hand but again just like a mist my hand went straight through. 

When Mark came back through the door into the parlour where i lay, He gasped and stopped still by the door. I tried to give him a comforting smile but he stammered ou my name ' J J J JAMES'. I put my hand up to mouth and put my finger on my lips to try and keep him quiet. But he kept staring at me. The neighbour led him into another room to try and calm him down. I knew he had seen me and he knew he had seen me but couldn't quite believe it. I mean who would? lets be honest. He was a 9 year old boy. 

Thankfully the doctor arrived not long after. I wanted to reassure Mark and show him that i was nothing to fear but everything was in chaos. Statements taken , forms filled in, death certificate signed... it was never ending. I managed to grab a look at the cause of death as i peered over the doctors shoulder. It said Drowning. 

The funeral director came late evening, my aunt and uncle sat by me for hours after they were informed of the incident. They said lots of lovely things, it was all i could do not to cry myself. Mark was distrort. He felt like it was his fault, he could barely look at me. i rose up from my body and went and sat next to him. He whimpered slightly but I tried to calm him. I have realised that if i hover my hand or arm a few centimetres away from him , it looks like i'm cuddling him and my arm doesnt just slip through his body. He did calm down , he even said 'James, i'm so sorry, please forgive me'. All i could do was nod and smile and try to look like i was holding his hand. I think thats where our real connection began and he realised that he hadn't lost me and that i would always be with him. 

The funeral was small and only about 5 or 6 people showed up, the vicar chose Amazing Grace. I like the song personally but not the way the people sung it. A piano that was in tune would have been good too, but I'm not one to complain. I sat next to Mark in the pews. Luckily i can squeeze into small places now. It was our eternal secret, we literally were inseperable. We stood together at my grave side looking down and as people wandered away to continue there own lives,Mark sat and talked to me. He visited almost daily and thank god, because until I was buried i didn't realise i would be the first ever internment in that cemetery. It was a very lonely , dark and scary first night on my own. The damp was creeping through the wood already and it was very chilly. I was afaid to peep out whilst it was dark, there were all sorts of strange noises , which i later learned from the next inernment a few days later was actually a family of foxes. 

i now know the true meaning of that saying 'me ,myself, and i'. 

I didn't have to wait long before another man was buried in the plot right by the chapel. At least i wasn't alone anymore. This wasn't how I pictured my short life. I mean i may not have grown physically, but spiritually i have learned so much as the cemetery has grown and got busier. My friends consist of people from all walks of life and over two centuaries and i can tell you things have changed so much. I never  believed that a light switch would be invented, i never would have thought that water from a tap was clean, or that there is this thing, a box like thing that plays music and people tell you the weather. They are mostly wrong but what a cool idea. Its amazing. People still come and put flowers on my grave. Cut the grass and keep my home tidy. The chapel cat keeps the mice at bay. There are even some children buried around here now that are younger than me. I try and wander round quite a bit now to meet and see the people interred here. Its like a little community that has been thrown together for the same reasons. But in different ways. 

                                                                  Thy will be Done

                                                          my epitaph that my cousin chose. 

Author's Note

this is the first chapter of a book about the residents of my local cemetery and their stories and anecdotes about how they got there. Its a work in progress but i would welcome any constructive criticisms anyone might have. Each chapter is based on a different resident.