EX-COVEIRO CONTA O QUE ACONTECEU APÓS A EXUMAÇÃO DE UMA JOVEM EM 1989 🙏 História de Terror Cemitério 

EX-COVEIRO CONTA O QUE ACONTECEU APÓS A EXUMAÇÃO DE UMA JOVEM EM 1989 🙏 História de Terror Cemitério

In 1989, I did the exhumation of a young woman called Marlene Aparecida dos Reis, in the cemetery municipality of Caruaru. While I took the earth, I heard her mother whisper a question that never came out again my head. Days later, things strange things started to happen nearby of that empty tomb.

 At first, I thought that it was just an impression, until I I even saw it. And it was only months later that I found out why that young woman still hasn’t I could rest in peace. My name is Osvaldo Ribeiro de Castro, I am 79 years old and that’s my story in minutes. It was an ordinary morning when I saw on my file the name of the young woman who was going to be buried that afternoon, Marlene Aparecida dos Reis, 22 years old.

 I knew that it wasn’t going to be an easy burial, because funerals for young people always have a extra weight. So I went to the pit, which had already been prepared days before, check if everything was ok. The sun that day was strong, without any cloud in the sky. The cemetery was quiet, the way it always looks in the morning, before for families to arrive to make their goodbyes.

 And around one o’clock, the car from the funeral home entered through the gate. Were few people following. The coffin It was simple, made of light wood, without no embellishment. I helped him get down even close to the grave, the way I always I did it carefully, without rushing, respecting that moment that was just for family.

 It was there that I noticed a old lady dressed in black stood just in front of the coffin. She had the marked face of someone who had already cried a lot before getting there and holding a photograph in both hands small, probably the young woman’s own that was there to be buried. From beside her, a little away, was a younger man, in a dark suit, with the face without any expression.

 I don’t I still knew who was who. I just noticed that the two seemed distant, even standing side by side. The priest began to ceremony with that calm voice that Country priests always have it. The people stood around head low, some praying quietly, others just looking at the coffin without saying anything. I I stayed in my usual place, for a while away, waiting for the moment to close the grave after it was all over.

 It was In the middle of the ceremony I heard the voice of the lady in black getting taller. She had turned to the man in the suit dark and spoke to him in a tone that did not it suited that moment. It was just there, listening to the way she spoke with him, that I understood who each was one. She was Marlene’s mother.

 He was the husband. The lady said to him, still with a choked but firm voice, which he I had never let her daughter be happy, who always lived controlling her, always suspicious of everything she did. I heard those words without want, because her voice reached where I was standing, even without her having the intention of shouting that to everyone world listen.

 The man did not respond nothing. He stood still, with his head down, looking at the ground, without looking up even once, even with everyone there close watching that scene. Not a gesture, not a word in response, just that silence that to me, from afar, seemed heavier than any answer that he could have given at that time. I I didn’t know that family, I had never seen them both before that day.

 No knew what had happened between them, I didn’t even know what it was about that discussion. I just know that it It bothered me in a way I didn’t. I knew how to explain. I stayed quiet in mine singing, doing what needed to be done, trying to pay too much attention something that was none of my business. Two people approached the lady and they held her arm carefully, like who tries to calm a pain that doesn’t have way to truly calm down.

 She stayed quiet after that, she looked back at daughter’s coffin and said nothing more. O priest finished the last prayers with that usual calm and little by little the people were saying goodbye and leaving from there, one by one in silence. The man in a dark suit was one of the first to leave.

 He didn’t look at anyone, no exchanged words with almost no one, it was just although with quick steps, almost as if I wanted to leave that place behind as quickly as possible. The lady in black He spent some more time looking at the tomb. Before leaving, she approached me, he gave me the photograph that held it and asked, with his voice still embargoed, that I would leave it up there, along with the flowers, when it was finished to close the pit.

 I promised I would do it just the way she asked. And she just shook his head, thanking him silence, before letting yourself be carried away albeit by two women who seemed be related to her too. When the Cemetery was empty, I started mine work as always. I took the shovel and went closing the pit little by little, throwing the land carefully the way I had learned to do in all those years.

It was a job that I did almost without think, so much I had already done before, but that day was different. While I was closing the grave alone, With no one around, I started to feel a strange thing. It wasn’t tiredness and not even the heat of the sun that was still strong.

 It was a weight that I felt lift over me little by little, as if the air there had become heavier than the rest of the cemetery. I stopped for a moment, I looked around and saw nothing differently. The cemetery was way as always. The other graves, the silence, the birds that sometimes they flew over the trees. Nothing there seemed out of the ordinary, other than that feeling that I couldn’t explain.

In 4 years at the cemetery, I had already buried a lot of people. I had already seen family crying a lot, family in silence, family even arguing the way that mother had fought with daughter’s husband. But never, in any of these funerals, I had felt a thing like that. As soon as I finished to close the tomb, I placed the photograph on top of the tombstone, along with the flowers that the family had left, just the way mom had asked me.

 I I left the cemetery that afternoon, without being able to get out of my head what I had seen and felt it. I didn’t tell no one about it, not even to me wife. It wasn’t the kind of thing I knew how to explain it properly. And deep down I I was still trying to understand if this It was just my impression after a heavy burial like that.

 I arrived at home quietly, I took a shower, had dinner not very hungry and went to sleep earlier than that I used to. I spent some time thinking in that discussion near the coffin, in the husband’s quiet way, in a choked voice of the mother, reviewing the scene without being able to come up with no explanation that would sense.

 I tried to forget about it, like always did after a hard day, but sleep took much longer than normal to come. I didn’t know then night that burial had not yet taken place finished. I had no idea what I was to come. All I know is that I went to sleep with feeling that something there cemetery had not yet been resolved right.

 Two days after that funeral, I was working near the cemetery entrance when I saw a car stop outside the gate. Were around 5 pm, the sun is already starting coming down and I had just finished a service in one of the oldest wings. I watched from afar, without knowing still what that meant. From the car three people got out, two men suit with a briefcase in his hand and in the middle of them the same lady in black as me I had seen it at Marlene’s funeral.

I recognized her right away. was the mother of Marlene. The three went straight to the living room of the administrator. I continued my service, but I kept an eye on it, without understand exactly what was happening. After a while, the administrator called me. Said he had a court order signed by a judge, asking for the exhumation of the body of the Marlene Aparecida dos Reis.

 He me He passed the paper in his hand and asked me if I could still do the job late. I didn’t know the reason for that request and it was none of my business ask. I had already done others supplies, always at the request of the family or some authority and never I questioned why each one. Got it the tools I needed, a shovel, a small flood and I went to the tomb by Marlene.

 When I got close to grave, the mother was already there, standing at the side, along with the two men who had come with her. One of them was the bailiff, the other appeared to be a specialist with a bag of instruments next to the feet. Nobody spoke to me beyond what is necessary. I started working and it was at that moment that I noticed a weird thing.

 The air around that pit seemed more still than normal, as if the wind had forgotten pass through there. The noise of my own shovel cutting the earth sounded muffled, half deaf, different from the sound that I knew from so many years of work. I stopped for a moment, looked around back, but I didn’t see anything that explained that.

 I kept digging, trying to give pay attention to that strange sensation. The mother Marlene stood next to me the all the time, without sitting, without moving away no minute. Unlike most families who prefer to wait far away During this type of procedure, it I wanted to follow every movement, every handful of earth that I was taking from there.

While I worked, she kept eyes fixed on the grave, face tense, mixing pain and an anger that she I tried to hold it inside. from time to time when, I heard her take a deep breath, as someone who is struggling not to lose the control. I didn’t say anything, just I continued the service, respecting that heavy silence she carried.

 It was then that stuffy air around the pit started to get even denser. It seemed like every mouthful of dirt I I would take it away and make that silence more thicker, more closed. I never had nothing like that feeling. At a certain point, with the grave already much deeper, the mother lowered a little towards the earth, as someone who wants to get closer to daughter.

 And it was at that moment that she he murmured, his voice low, almost just to herself, a question I heard even without wanting to listen. She said: “My daughter, what were you hiding from me?” Those words remained in the air along with that silence dense that already took over everything. I I didn’t know what she meant by that.

 I didn’t know any secrets, no hidden story. I just knew that Her question weighed on me in a way that I couldn’t explain, almost as if that silence had swallowed the own question and kept it there inside the earth. I kept digging and At that moment the silence became so thick that I almost couldn’t listen to my own breathing. Was as if the sound of my work, the noise of the shovel, the footsteps of men nearby, everything had become more distant, more muffled.

 Before long, the shovel hit the coffin wood. I cleared the land by around carefully, until you leave everything exposed. The expert approached, examined the state of the coffin and asked me to help open the coffin. I did what needed to be done, always with respect, even without understanding the reason of that procedure.

 The mother doesn’t He never looked away. stayed watching everything, with hands clasped in front of the body, chin shaking lightly, but without letting the tears fall there in front of me. The expert did what you needed, wrote down some things on a clipboard and then gave the order so that the body could be taken from there that afternoon.

 The two men helped place the coffin inside a vehicle who was already waiting outside. The mother accompanied everything to the gate without saying nothing else. Just got in the car and went away, leaving that grave behind open and that strange silence that still hung in the air. I was alone there, needing to close the hole again, even without the coffin inside it.

 I took the shovel and I started to return the land to where it belonged the way the service required. But that one stuffy air, that dense silence, no left with the car. continued there on that piece of cemetery, even with the grave already empty, while I worked alone, mother’s question kept echoing in my head. Mine Daughter, what were you hiding from me? I didn’t know what secret she was talking, I had no idea what would have led her to ask for an exhumation like that.

 Two days after the burial, I finished closing the grave now near the end of the afternoon. I kept the tools, I washed my hands under the tap outside the warehouse and left home, still carrying that strange silence inside me, like if he had stuck to me skin. I had no idea at the time that silence that I had felt during the exhumation it was just the beginning of something that would make me even more without explanation in the following days.

 One day after that exhumation, I was at lunch time, sitting at a table near the tool shed when I heard two colleagues talking at the table next to me. side. I wasn’t paying attention and I only caught a part of the conversation chance. One of them told the other that late afternoon the previous day, when was closing the gates of Behind the cemetery, I had heard a sound strange, a bit like crying bass coming from somewhere near that empty grave.

 He spoke quietly, half dull, like someone who is not sure if You should tell that to others. I don’t said nothing, continued eating, but That conversation kept lingering in my head my head. It wasn’t the first time that I listened to a colleague’s report about things stranger in the cemetery. But was it of that empty grave of Marlene that Was he talking? I went back to service soon after, trying to give a lot of importance to that.

 I was working in a more distant part, adjusting a fence that had fallen near others graves, when I saw one of the employees from maintenance coming towards me, walking quickly, with a pale face, different from the calm way he always had. I stopped what I was doing and I asked if everything was ok with him, because his way of arriving was no longer normal.

 He took a moment to respond, took a deep breath and said that I had just passed close to one grave and felt a sudden cold. From nothing, even with that strong sun that was doing that day. I asked where was this tomb and he pointed out in the direction from where the tomb of the Marlene. I asked if he had seen something, some figure, something different there.

 He said no, who only felt that cold suddenly and That was enough to leave him with hairs on his arms stood up. Thank you for he told me and he walked away He goes back to work, still shaken. I compared what I had heard colleague talking at lunch with what that employee had just told me. two different accounts from two people different people talking about the same place, in the same space of a few days.

 I still trying to find a normal explanation for that. Cold wind, imagination, tiredness work, anything you did more sense than what I was thinking inside, without being able to get nowhere. Days later, already Towards the end of one afternoon, a lady who cleaned some tombs in that ward she stopped her service and came as far as I was working.

 She I had a cloth in my hand and a way worried on his face. He asked if I knew what had happened to the young woman of that tomb, pointing with his hand towards Marlene’s grave. I said no I knew for sure, that I had only done the burial and then exhumation, but not knew the details of the story of that family, nor the reason why it all happened happened so quickly.

 I asked the Why is she asking that? suspecting that she also had some thing to tell about that place, from the same way the other two already had told me in the previous days. She said she had seen someone standing near the tomb, from afar, right in the time she arrived to do the cleaning of that sector.

 He said he found strange because it wasn’t office hours visit and decided to approach slowly to see who that person was there alone. When the enough, there was no one else. Was as if the person had disappeared in between of the path, without leaving any trace. She even commented in a lower voice that he felt something strange at that moment, a feeling that that soul was still not at peace no way.

 I just shook my head not knowing how to respond correctly. I continued working nearby for the rest of the day, rummaging through it all inside, unable to concentrate right in the service. Three stories different in a few days. all connected to that same empty tomb. I always I tried to find the right explanation for the things, but that was already difficult to explain, just with common sense.

 In the end that day, with the sun low, I decided to go to Marlene’s grave before to go home. I didn’t go for curiosity, nor because I want to investigate nothing that others had for me counted. It was because I felt sorry for that family, sorry for that girl so young and I thought praying a little for her was the way to go.

the only thing I knew how to do in front of all that. The cemetery was almost empty at that time. Just me and the silence of always among the graves. I walked slowly until you get close to her tombstone, feeling the noise of my own steps on dry land. There was no more no one around, neither employee nor visitor.

 Just me and that place that already left me with so many questions few days. I came close to the grave and I knelt down slowly, the way I I always did when I was going to pray for someone in cemetery, without any rush. I closed the eyes and began to ask with the words simpler than I had, than that soul found rest, may God take care of her wherever she goes was at that moment.

 While I I was praying, I felt a presence approaching, a way of feeling that I don’t know explain it right to this day, as if the air around me had changed again, but in a different way from the silence of exhumation. was more like the feeling that someone had arrived close to me, even without hearing any step.

 I slowly opened my eyes and saw a woman standing next to the tomb, with her head down, crying softly, without make no noise other than that cry weak. She repeated without stopping two words that I heard clearly total: “It was him, it was him.” Her voice was weak, but every word it came to me with a weight that I had never it made sense.

 I was paralyzed there, kneeling, unable to get up or say nothing. I recognized her face in time, the same face I had seen on the day of the burial and in the photograph that was left on top of the grave Marlene. Before I could react anyway, she disappeared from the same impossible way as it had appeared, without walking away, without away, just disappearing there in front of me.

I remained kneeling in the same place, without strength to get up immediately, trying to understand what had just happened to live. The cemetery was quiet around, as if nothing had happened there. But I knew, with a certainty that I couldn’t explain, that that soul I still hadn’t found peace. I got up Slowly, I packed my things and went away from that cemetery carrying that inside me.

 Months have passed after that day when I saw Marlene near his own tomb, crying and repeating those words. And little by little comments from other employees disappeared, as if the subject had left behind with time. Until one morning, the administrator called me and said that Marlene’s body would return to the cemetery that week to be buried again.

 They didn’t give me details of the reason, just the information of that the process had ended and that the family had authorized the second burial. I prepared the tomb that I already It had had her name engraved on it for a long time. I did everything with the same care as anyone another burial, without knowing exactly what wait for that day.

 A part of me I still remembered what I had experienced for months before, kneeling there, listening to that voice: “It wasn’t fear I was carrying. It was more of a desire to understand if that place still held something of the restlessness that I had experienced in previous months, or if it had already gone for good.

” The day of the second funeral arrived and I soon realized it was very different from the first. The coffin came closed without any decoration and few people followed the procession until the cemetery. There wasn’t that movement before, not so many people gathered around from the pit. Just a small, quiet group, you fit low.

 The husband was not among them. I searched with my eyes, even I didn’t want to look, but I didn’t see the face him nowhere. I noticed Marlene’s mom was there in front of everyone, but with a way different from carrying that pain. Now the priest performed a short ceremony, without a lot of talk, and few people Those present said goodbye to the few.

 I stayed in my place always, waiting for the moment to close the pit. As the coffin descended, I paid attention, trying to feel if that weight or that strange silence would return. the way they had come in the others times, but they didn’t come. The air was there normal, in the ordinary way of any other working day.

 No chest tightness, no muffled silence, no strange sensation rising through the body. That already caught my attention, because I I expected to feel something similar with the other times and I didn’t feel anything in addition to the normal fatigue of the job. When the coffin finished descending and the ceremony ended, people went albeit little by little.

 I was alone, like as usual, to close the pit. I took the shovel and started the work, feeling the air from the cemetery lighter than me I remembered feeling a long time ago on that same piece of land. While I threw the dirt, calmly, I felt that that weight that had marked the first Marlene’s funeral and then returned stronger in the exhumation, it was no longer there.

 It was as if something had truly changed, not only on the outside, but in the very air of that piece of cemetery where she was now being buried again. I finished the job and I went to put the tools in the storage room the same way as always. When I returned to check if everything was in order, I noticed that Marlene’s mother was still was there, standing near the tomb, alone, with my head down, crying quietly.

 Everyone else was already gone away and she had stayed behind. I went approaching slowly, without rushing, the the way we approach someone who is in the middle of a moment private. When I got closer, I asked if she was okay, if needed some help. She got up eyes, looked at me for a moment and shook his head slowly, as if is gathering strength to say something thing.

 Then she started talking quietly, still looking at the tomb, telling you everything you had saved for in those months. He said that the expertise carried out after exhumation had shown that her daughter did not die from the way it appeared on the old certificate. They discovered that Marlene had been poisoned and that the death was not natural nor accidental.

 She said that her husband da Marlene was called to testify and that after being interrogated several times, ended up confessing to the crime. Said that he admitted to having done it out of jealousy, because her daughter wanted to separate and He couldn’t accept the idea of losing her. The mother’s voice trembled with each word, but she managed to tell everything until the end.

 She said that her husband was tried and convicted of murder and who now I was stuck paying for what I had done. He also said that after finding out of all that, he understood why he felt since the first burial, the daughter has not I had rested properly. Said that wiping away tears with the back of hand slowly.

 I heard everything in silence, without interrupting, leaving her put out what you needed been said for so long. When she finished, I said in a low voice that now her daughter would find peace deserved, because justice had been done and she knew it. She looked at me, dried the last tears with the cloth that He had it in his hand and he approached me to give it to me.

a hug. It was a simple hug thanks, the kind we receive when we help someone lifting a weight, without even knowing right like. I stood still, receiving that gesture with respect, without saying nothing else. She said goodbye soon after, thanking you again before leaving along the same path as the others had followed.

 I was alone in cemetery, looking at the tomb now closed, the way it always was after a burial. But that time, the silence around was unlike anything that I had felt there before. I stayed one more time standing in that place, looking at the sunset that was beginning to set fall over the cemetery before collecting my things and go home.

That day had been unlike any other the others I had already lived there inside and I knew I was going to carry that memory for the rest of my life. Nas following weeks, I continued passing through that wing of the cemetery several times, doing my normal job. I never felt that weight again. Never again I heard no reports from colleagues about strange thing near that tomb.

 O place had returned to being just another quiet grave, like so many others that I took care of. Today, at 79 years old, looking back at everything I’ve experienced in that cemetery, I understand that that What I felt was not imagination, nor work fatigue. I believe that God Sometimes it allows us to feel the weight of an injustice so that it does not be forgotten until someone finally listen and the truth will come to light surface.

 I never went near that one again grave without remembering Marlene’s voice, crying softly, repeating those two words. But today I know that she rested and that brings me a peace that I I still carry it today. May God bless the memory of her and that no one else needs live what she lived before being heard. If you also believe that a soul that suffered injustice waits for justice to finally be able rest in peace, leave one below I believe.

 May God bless the memory from Marlene, bless you and yours family. Until the next report.