It’s been months, I’m still trying to come to any senses out of it, but the lack of reporting only adds the mystery. It was only on the news for one day, then it just went away, as if people has lost interests in it. There is no way conspiracists would ever that this big thing slip. I almost believed that I was delusional.

Articles, leaked photos, witness interviews, they disappeared one by one, day after day, I knew I’ve read them, have seen them, heard them, certain of them, but some of them just vanished without any traces. The scorched walls were there for a few days, then all became as dirty as before as it didn’t happen. I knew what I saw in the alley.

Until this morning, I was so confused, thought I might be actually going mental, maybe it’s all happening in my little nutty brain, then I saw her again standing in front of our house. She was there on our front lawn, looking up, right into the window where I am standing, staring at me for a few seconds before walking away. I chased, but she had gone without any sign.

I’m not crazy, am I?

“Good, you got my message,” she whispers at me as I stand next to her, she doesn’t want to disturb.

Last time I was here in a black suit, that was for my grandfather. I have to borrow my father’s, growing too fast, the old one didn’t fit anymore. By borrowing, meaning hoping he wouldn’t mind me taking it directly from his closet without asking.

She looks completely different, in a black dress with a handbag, nothing unusual about her. On the street, you would not glance at her and think other than just another human being, another normal woman walking by. Just like the Josh, whom we are coming for, whom I met, her clothes was different when I first saw her, you can tell both of them were from the same place.

For now, we are just two persons, strangely showing up on a John Doe’s funeral, no one else, but the funeral home workers, who are trying their best to give him a reasonably decent exiting as the last leg of his life. As for us, I know why she is here; for me, I am just here to get an answer. At least, that’s before I knew who was in the casket.

The sun is baking up in the air, it’s still morning, not overly hot. The site isn’t maintained well, the green lawn is overgrowing, only a few feet from the grave are mowed, just for this funeral. Not a great place, but at least, these John and Jane can have a place to rest.

They are slowly lowering the casket down, which you can tell is a very cheap one, a few sheet of laminated wood boards, enough nails to provides strength to hold those boards in place. Sad to say, just a box to put his body in the ground.

Few hours ago, after I rushing out, finding only an old newspapers in mailbox, which had been folded neatly to show an obituary of a person I didn’t know. But I knew I had to be here, and I saw her standing in this John Doe’s funeral.

Opening the handbag, she takes out a necklace. There is nothing special about that necklace, only it looks pretty old like from centuries ago, an antique. The workers quietly walk away, I think they just thought we need some time along with the John Doe, or they would start to finish the burial.

“Goodbye, Josh,” she says and kisses the necklace before throwing it down, landing on the casket. The noise sound like finger-tapping on to paper carton box, empty and sorrow.

She knees down, slowly.

Her tears flowing down her face, cheeks, dripping off chin, on the soil. I know nothing about her, don’t even know her name, not my place to offer comfort. But I can guess they were very close, most likely they were together.

“May your soul rest in time,” she says and throws down a handful of soil.

Sitting back on her heels, nothing is said more. It’s quiet, only a few birds chirping on a near by trees, breeze makes long grass swinging.

“Did he say anything before his died?” she asks, looking at the casket.

“He said ‘tell her I love you,’” I reply.

A couple of seconds later, turning her neck, looking up at me before standing back up with a shake of head and chuckle. She turns to face me.

“Thank you, for lying to me,” she says.

Caught. With the last breath, his actual last words were ‘I knew it,’ which I still don’t know what that means, but I don’t think I should ask her, she might not even know. John Doe, Josh, when he was dying, wasn’t stable. That might just be some nonsense.

She then took a deep breath, exhaling out, looks calm and peaceful. She reaches in her purse again, taking out a black box, placing it in my hand.

“This is my last. A word of advice, don’t,” she says before she let go of the box, then leaves.

There is a symbol on the top, a circle-like shape, three small dots are drawn on bottom curve. Same symbol I have seen on that day, just a few times if not more.

I open it carefully, my heart is pumping, not sure what would be inside it or what she really means. A silver bracelet sitting at center, the same one was later removed from my wrist on that day.