Our town had a graveyard no one dared to go to for a reason I didn’t know. It was at the border of our deserted town and was where I loved to sit down and write in my journal. You see, I was not easily scared like the rest of the people in my town. I watched horror movies and loved going to places that supposedly were homes to ghosts. Nothing fazed me, especially not this cemetery.
There was nothing special in this old run down place. Only trees bare of leaves, tombstones so worn down you couldn’t even see the names, and ancient looking mausoleums. Why people wanted to keep corpses above the ground in a miniature house boggled my mind. That was disgusting.
The grass was a dull greenish yellow, cut short by the one of the town’s workers. My favorite spot I sat and wrote at was in the middle of the graveyard under a dead willow tree, its branches drooping with sadness. It allowed a clear view of everything around me, not that there was much to look at.
The wind picked up the dry cracked leaves scattered on the ground, swiftly swirling them like a mini tornado. Crows perched all around me on adjacent gravestones, familiar with my presence, looked at my journal curiously. They cocked their heads to the side and kept their deep black eyes trained on my every move. To my right was a grave labeled with the name, “Robin Grinner” and she has kept me company for as long as I have been coming here. She wasn’t much of a talker.
There were no flowers or visitors for any deceased person here. They didn’t bury anyone here anymore, afraid to leave their loved ones to rot. The crisp air picked up once more, moving my papers full of my thoughts back and forth on my lap. I listened for someone coming but all I heard was the familiar silence I fell in love with.
The crows began to settle down on the willow tree and they closed their tiny eyes for a short nap. Cars whizzing by the graveyard stopped which was very uncommon since this land was right by our town’s busiest street. Shaking the thought out of my head, I cleared my mind of stress and problems I had to face once I left here. All I thought about were the people who were no longer alive and buried six feet under. Out of nowhere something tickled the skin near my ear like lips were grazing my neck. My entire body became stiller than a statue when I heard a whisper in my ear. I couldn’t make out what it said but it was enough to cause my limbs to tense up.
My feet seemed in control at that moment, taking off towards the end of the graveyard faster than a bullet. I heard footsteps not far behind me. The sound of my feet sinking into the muddy ground at a quickening pace echoed through the cemetery. Adrenaline pulsed through me faster than my blood pumping in my heart. The beat of my heart felt like a bird’s wings about to take off for flight.
The cobblestone was hard under my feet, it’s path cut through the middle of the property. The person’s breathing behind me was getting closer with each pant I took. Their hand grabbed onto the hood of my grey jacket, sending me flying backwards onto the hard stone. I landed on my back with a painful thud.
With my spine throbbing in gut wrenching pain, I got up and continued forward. I had to get away. Trees and tombstones passed by me at an accelerated pace, everything by me became blurred. My lungs screamed at me to stop and take a steady breathe of air but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop running or I would have gotten into the clutches of the person pursuing me.
A hand reached for me again when I got to the other side of the path, back onto the grass. The grass on this side of the lawn was muddy which made my feet sink into the ground. This time I got free instead of getting thrown back again. My eyes slammed shut in order to protect me from a thorn bush I passed, inches away from my pale blue eyes. I opened them, and before my legs could react, my body smacked into the thick door of a mausoleum.
It’s door didn’t open, no it stayed put as my face crashed into its hard marble. The footsteps from the other person stopped in front of me, and I closed my eyes from the pursuer. It’s hand ran along my jaw gingerly and I felt it’s hot breath on my skin. Our breathing slowed down into their normal steady breaths. Pressing my back against the door, I was trying to disappear from the person. I tried to picture myself anywhere but here. The wind picked up around us; crows flapped their wings to get away from the harsh weather.
Silence. It was all I heard after the cemetery cleared of all life. The warm breath from the stranger in front of me disappeared into the cold autumn air. I opened my eyes and looked around. The graveyard was vacant. Trees swayed back and forth as if nothing happened. The man or woman chasing me minutes ago was nowhere in sight. The only proof they were here was their footprints in the mud far larger than mine.
I wrapped my arms around my waist for comfort and felt something in my jacket’s pocket. Reaching into the deep pocket I pulled out a red poppy flower that once was alive. It was now dried like a raisin, its stem covered in thick crimson blood. I looked around the graveyard to see where the flower came from but of course there were no flowers in sight, just like my pursuer.