"Don't go into the graveyard!" people liked to say. "Don't disturb those who are asleep!" they told us. Well, if it were up to me, I'd stay away forever. It's not in my nature to bother the mysterious ghosts and spectres that like to wander about the dark and foggy boneyards.
"Warn the others!" they said to me. I did just that, but as I already knew, they didn't believe in all of that ghost stuff. They laughed and they joked about the creepy and unexplained. They didn't believe that wandering through the graveyard that lies far beyond the woodland actually bothered anyone or anything.
Against my warnings, we went off in that direction. Of course, they brought along their music, drink and firecrackers. It didn't take long before they started to blow up mailboxes with their cherry bombs, and scare off squirrels with their blaring noise.
We finally reached the graveyard; the one that was older than any building in the town. They went in, but I stayed at the creaky gate. They made fun of me for not wanting to enter, but I knew better. I watched as they went up and down the rocky hills, and they laughed and sang. I watched them as they walked amongst the very old gravestones until they disappeared from sight.
I waited for hours, until the sun went down. As typical, the cold wind blew, and the fog rolled by. I sat and waited. Eventually, as I knew would happen, A skeletal hand tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to look, only to find a skeleton standing there, with his bony arm sticking out through the rotting iron gate...
"Hey man, get going!" he said to me.
Well, that's all that he had to say, before I was off towards the town. Needless to say, nobody ever saw my friends again.
So, a word of warning to all of you who get the urge to trample over graves and disturb the peace: For your sakes, don't do it. That's because you might just be pestering the graveyard when the owners may be visiting their bones.
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