The Cemetery
I joined a site called Writers Network. This was a prompt for my next story. It got creative juices flowing.
On your way home from a friend's house, you decide to take a short cut and end up in the cemetery. You've never seen this place before and wonder if it has always been there. You get a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach and while every bone in your body is telling you to turn around, you can't help but move forward.
What happens next?
What happens next?
"Gee, that looks like a haunting cemetery," I say to myself as I come upon a cemetery I've never seen before. It has a typical haunted cemetery swinging gate. Above the gate, it says, in letters that look like they're dripping blood, "CEMETERY. STAY OUT."
"Uh oh!" I say. "Sounds like a pretty crazy cemetery! I better go check it out!"
I park the car, and jump out. It's raining. Lightning is flashing, obviously. The wind is howling through the treetops. This is probably a dangerous idea, but I'm the adventurous type. How can I pass up a haunted cemetery? How?
The headstones are all ancient looking. Some are tilted, like they're going to pop out of the ground. Others, the engravings are so worn I can't make out a thing. "Those engravings sure are worn!" I say to myself.
But one headstone catches my attention.
"Oh no," I say, dread filling the pit of my stomach.
I wipe off the front, filthy with grime and dirt.
My mouth drops open in shock. Nothing could have ever prepared me for this moment, this one pivotal defining moment in my entire existence. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was staring at, with that stupid look on my face.
"SAMUEL GOMPERS, 1850-1924. MAY HE REST IN PEACE."
"No way!" I say, still reeling from the shock of it all. "The leader of the American Federation of Labor from 1886 to 1924 who united many labor groups in a federation of trade unions? I learned about him in school! Awesome!"
I leave the cemetery, just feeling happy about myself. Man, my friends are not gonna believe this.
"Uh oh!" I say. "Sounds like a pretty crazy cemetery! I better go check it out!"
I park the car, and jump out. It's raining. Lightning is flashing, obviously. The wind is howling through the treetops. This is probably a dangerous idea, but I'm the adventurous type. How can I pass up a haunted cemetery? How?
The headstones are all ancient looking. Some are tilted, like they're going to pop out of the ground. Others, the engravings are so worn I can't make out a thing. "Those engravings sure are worn!" I say to myself.
But one headstone catches my attention.
"Oh no," I say, dread filling the pit of my stomach.
I wipe off the front, filthy with grime and dirt.
My mouth drops open in shock. Nothing could have ever prepared me for this moment, this one pivotal defining moment in my entire existence. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was staring at, with that stupid look on my face.
"SAMUEL GOMPERS, 1850-1924. MAY HE REST IN PEACE."
"No way!" I say, still reeling from the shock of it all. "The leader of the American Federation of Labor from 1886 to 1924 who united many labor groups in a federation of trade unions? I learned about him in school! Awesome!"
I leave the cemetery, just feeling happy about myself. Man, my friends are not gonna believe this.
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