excerpt.

    Above me, the clouds were crumpled papers in a heavy sky. Sunlight breathed dully from some distant place and birds scattered above me, frantically flying from something. Another low, deep call hovered over the naked trees. It was more focused, more distinct than the previous one. It seemed to be saying something, something in two syllables, each drawn out in the thickening fog. What was it saying? It continued its call from an indistinguishable place in the sky: “Aaa-eeee...” over and over. I shook away the possibility, the most certain possibility from my mind. But I couldn’t escape that, either. It was calling my name.
“Daaa-nyyy,” shook the trees. No. I wasn’t insane. I wouldn’t let them win this, give in to hallucinations... the ones Molly knew so well. But she didn’t. She was fine. I was fine. I was--
And it came again, stumbling through the fog and pressing loudly against my ears. I covered them hard with my hands, but it was no use.
“Okay!” I screamed. “What is it? What do you want to tell me? There’s no one here now, no one watching me give in to you. What do you have to say?”
The call stopped. In the silence that followed, I laughed to myself. A silly fright. There was no one there. It was just my imagination getting the best of me again.
Through the distant pines, the chilled oaks with their branches pointed to the sky, through the hollowed trunks, the voice returned to me.
“Danny,” it repeated, “it’s your turn now.” And louder, as if right behind me and all around me, it cried, “Go on.”
I jumped, and looked around me. There was no one there. No one for miles. Nothing but a breath of wind, one breath, blowing hard, away from me.
My breath came in quick nightmarish gasps and I was still standing next to the thick lake. Something different, though. I was now facing away from the water, turned around from the confusion of the preceding events.
Before me, stretching on for a good long amount of the dense forest, replacing the many trees that had been extracted for space, were the graves. Many millions of graves, it seemed, large and heavy, unmoving and solemn. This was where she had led me.
“Fuck it, Molly,” I whispered. “Of all the places?”
The sun was slowly making its way through the fog and up to the center of the sky as I made my way in. As I pushed around the bushes and branches, I saw the angry faces of the black birds. I was a stranger; they looked at me and saw the intruder in me. We would have to be friends, I thought. I would be there for a while.