It is late in the night, you can only hear the wind and the leaves that fall from the bushes. The night is clear, the moon is shining, and only a few clouds cover the stars. It's going to be a quiet night, the cemetery gates have been closed for 2 hours, and the day was quiet too: only three burials and only adults.
Yes, this is going to be a quiet guard, looking at the stars and listening to the noises of the night ...
Clinck, clinck.
Damn kids! They came back in to ring the bells! Every time I think I scared them off, they go back to challenging each other to ring the bells.
Clinck, clinck.
Ah! But this time they will get to know my rifle more intimately, so they will learn not to disturb the dead and the tired old men who just want to finish their watch in peace.
Clinck, clinck.
They are in the part of the old family tombs, the ones with those little bells connected to the inside. An old custom from when I was a kid, the times I've asked to remove them! They only serve to entertain spoiled brats by making bets.
Clinck, clinck.
There is the grave, and the children are nowhere to be found. It must have been the wind, and to think that ...
Clinck, clinck.
The rope! It moved! Was someone buried here today? I don't know, I don't come to the funerals, but it can be. Is there someone alive there!
Clinck, clinck.
I should go find someone! He's been in there for hours, how is he still alive? Why are my feet not moving?
Clinck, clinck.
I am paralyzed, tremors run through my body and a bead of cold sweat runs down my forehead. The bell is ringing and someone has buried him alive ...
Clinck, clinck.
The bell stopped ringing ...
