Trespassing Has Grave Consequences

The Graveyard Shift

I leave my old mustang behind and approach the boneyard slowly, unsure if it is worth it to be here. My English teacher had assigned me the task of getting a great picture of this place to include in an upcoming essay. She claimed, "It would count as extra credit and serve as much-needed inspiration for my project." Gritting my teeth, I march onward feeling eager to get this over with and leave.

A rusty metal gate grants me entry, into the abandoned graveyard in the woods. Once inside a wild gust of wind chills me to the bone and pulls at ends of my hair, as if teasing me. Overhead, a pastel sunset can still be seen as it slowly begins to transition into nightfall. Instinct tells me to turn around and head back to the safety of my car but my pride gets the better of me. Cautiously making my way deeper into the burial ground, I notice how faded the inscriptions are on most of the stone headstones, with most of the names unreadable, lost forever to the passage of time.

A loud slam from behind forces me to turn around. Noticing that the great iron gate is now closed, I tell myself that it must have just been the wind, trying to calm uneasy nerves. While standing there, the overwhelming stench of rot catches my attention and makes me feel ill. However, it does not linger and is soon taken away by the gales of wind, leaving me to wonder if it was just imaginings or perhaps something far worse.

It is really quiet here, reminding me of the fact that it is hallowed ground. The graves stones form long strange shadows that seem to scratch at the earth, almost like clawed hands, as the last rays of light fade. The ghoulish shadows seem to be a warning to anyone that would dare disturb the deceased eternal slumber. Continuing on, I lose my footing on the uneven ground. My arms instantly grab the nearest grave maker. The stone feels smooth and cold underneath my bare palms. A large ornate raven carved onto the aged stone catches my attention. The tombstone has my name across it and reads, "Victim of her own greed". I gasped and stumbled to the ground in disbelief.

Then a breath of strong wind hits me hard and starts to push me back. In the gales, unreckonable voices can be heard calling out, warning me to leave right away. Goosebumps form on my skin as the wind continues to push me out. It is as if this place is no longer the same, it has transformed into a bridge to the afterlife and is struggling to evict me. Unable to muster up any more courage, I turn and run for the gate.

I glance back to see skeleton hands starting to emerge from the graves. I scream bloody murder as a bony hand grabs onto my shoe, causing me to fall face first and into the moist soil. Fighting wildly, I managed to pull my foot free from the shoe, before making a beeline for the gate. The cries of the undead echo around me as I try desperately to force open the heavy gate. However, no matter how hard I push it will not give an inch! Unwilling to give up, I begin to climb over the fence pulling myself up by the ironwork. The top is covered with ornate points, somehow by some miracle, I manage to get over them without impaling myself.

Once on the other side of the fence, I waste no time and race back to my car. I yank the door open and dive inside. However, before I have a chance to do it myself the wind slams the car door shut. While trying to start the engine, a terrifying scraping metallic sound can be heard from right outside the car. Taking the not so subtle hint, I lock the car doors. I finally manage to crank up the car and speed up the overgrown dirt road. While escaping it feels as though I had just trespassed into the realm of the afterlife, and just got away by the skin of my teeth.