Tuesday, October 28, 2003
Cutting through the graveyard on the way home after a school dance, I got more and more uneasy with every step. My eyes darted back and forth across the ground, wondering what could be beyond the shadows that lay in wait behind the tombstones. I stopped and wondered, "What am I doing here?" I hear a twig snap; I jump, and I start running. I don't stop, not even to look behind me. I run faster. I have to get out. My wispy blue dress flowing behind me snags an overhanging branch; my hair is in tangles. I had no idea what is chasing me. I knew it could be anything. All of the ghost stories I've ever heard as a child rush back to me, and I run faster. Mist was starting to creep up along the ground, weaving its way along the ground like water. The moon grew full, round like a glowing cat's eye. I slowed, my heart throbbing and head pounding, and saw a black figure limping toward me over my shoulder. Gasping, I staggered toward the cemetery gates now visible to me, looming so far ahead it looked like it could be a mile. Whatever was following me was growing steadily faster, and I could almost feel its hot breath on the back of my neck. I smashed into the gates, my hands fumbling along the cold metal only to find an iron padlock and a ton of chains. Sure I was going to die, I managed to squeeze through the gates, escaping so closely I felt steely claws tear the flesh along my leg as I fell out into the street beyond. Menacing red orbs, its eyes, retreated back into the gloomy dark mystery of the cemetery. I was safe ... for now.
Breanna Pence is a seventh-grader at Southwest Junior High School.