The Graveyard

The Graveyard 

OK, it was stupid of me, and I know I shouldn't have done it, but after a few drinks with your mates, would you have declined a dare from them? The dare was simple enough: I was to walk alone across the local graveyard at midnight. The only problem being that it was allegedly haunted. 

I stood at the old wrought iron gate. Hesitatingly, I pushed it open. It gently creaked; I stood listening. Nothing, all quiet. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

 The moon was bright, but kind of hazy with it. The gravestones, many of them overgrown and decayed, glowed eerily under the soft white moonlight. The shadows cast were long and deep. I cautiously entered the cemetery. Something to my right moved, and I froze to the spot, watching and listening, my heart pounding. All was quiet again. I cursed myself for being so silly; it would have been a rat or something, and no doubt more scared of me than I was of it.

 I started moving again, slowly but deliberately. You can indeed hear your own heartbeat. I could not only hear it but feel it; it was racing, thumping. Another noise, this time to my left. I stopped. A cat moved out of the shadows. Looking for mice or rats, I thought. Again, I chided myself for being so foolish. I mean, let's face it; ghosts don't exist, do they? And if they did exist, they couldn't possibly hurt anyone; they have no real substance. 

OK, I regretted taking the dare, and I certainly shouldn't have listened to the local gossip before I left the pub. My mates had really set me up this time. I hated to admit it, but I was scared. 

Another noise. I began to panic, stumbling forward in the vague direction of the exit. I didn't care what my mates thought; I was getting out of there. I started to run. A noise behind made me glance over my shoulder. That was a mistake. I didn't see the blooming bramble at the side of a grave. 

I fell forward, letting out a terrified howl as I went. I hit the ground, hitting my head on a broken headstone on the way down. Lying there stunned, I could feel blood trickling down my face from the wound. I tried to get up, but couldn't. The world was swimming before my eyes; I felt strangely cold. A noise to the left attracted my attention. Slowly, I moved my head to see whatever it was. My heart was pounding. 

Through the blood that was running into my eyes, I saw a young woman coming toward me. She bent down, touching my face and looking kindly into my eyes. "Are you alright?" she asked. 

Looking at her, I saw that she had blood on her; my blood, I supposed. "Car crash," she said as if by way of explanation, "How did you die?"