Seeing- half 1

The graveyard sat dark and cold in the fall night. The gates of wrought iron stood guard. The lights of the streets tried to intrude but the grounds held them back to their defenses. The day's light crept over the horizon and cast the waking shadows on the dead of the earth. The morning crept on and overtook the night's reign.

Then the living inhabitants came out of their holes. It was a friday morning. The buses passed along the street between the graveyard and homes sitting on the other side. Charlie stepped out of the docile house just as the yellow bus rushed by heading to the corner. he ran down the street and stepped inside.

He walked down the aisle looking at the classmates on either side as they gave him the same look they always did, one's mouth shaped an offensive slur, he ignored it and continued listening to his ipod as he moved to the back. The bus jolted him to a spill as it lurched back into motion. He finally found his seat at the back of the bus and took it. He closed his eyes and looked at the back of his lids as he tried to finish his sleep before school.

The bus rocked him as the guitars blared and the voice of Ozzy soothed him. The prodding in his left arm was a new sensation he had never felt on the bus before. Charlie opened his eyes and looked to see who it was. The nerd had an eager look on his face, "What do you want?" he asked in a slurred speech, begging to get back to sleep.

The nerd looked at him with an over gleeful look on his face that Charlie could never have at this hour of the morning, it was almost retarded, "Nothing really... I just was wondering what you were listening to?"

That was it? Charlie closed his eyes, "Ozzy."

"Ah, cool," the nerd said, trying to pretend to know more than just the recognition of Ozzy's name. Charlie couldn't believe the douche was still talking.

"You want to listen?" Charlie offered, deciding to be nice, he was a nice guy after all, just not outgoing.

The nerd took the earbud. The school bus proceeded on. Every time the song changed the nerd asked about the new song, no sleep for Charlie today. It was just as well, the noise of the bus was too much in the naked left ear. The bus jumped and shook as it passed by the lake and turned the bend. Finally, the bus came to a stop in front of the school. The nerd gave back the bud and stood up, "Well, I'll see you later in class!"

Wow, the nerd had class with Charlie? Charlie didn't even know who the kid was, let alone that they had class. Charlie muttered "Yeah," as they parted ways and got off the bus, making a point to go a different direction than the nerd.

Charlie stopped at his locker and pulled out several books. His locker was empty besides stickers and shadows of former occupants' fascinations, Charlie left them more out of laziness than anything else. He glanced out of his corner vision and saw as his previous year's history teacher passed by him, the teacher gave him a glance of dislike and walked on. The man thought Charlie was on pot. Charlie just hadn't liked the class and he'd come in late in the year and received no help in catching up in the class.

It was the second day of the new school year, his first full year here. He pulled out his phone, no texts yet, no distractions from the boredom about to begin. The first class was literature, "Romeo and Juliet" was over rated. Then came biology, they were supposed to dissect frogs sometime, maybe it'd be more fun than when he dissected a worm in seventh grade... He managed through the first two classes before he finally got a text from Rachel, she'd just woken up and missed her first class.

He texted her a joke as he passed through the halls to his third class, composition. He slipped the phone back into his pocket as he entered the classroom and walked to the back seats. It was only another fifty minutes till lunch. He watched the door and the clock, waiting for the class to begin. The last stragglers rushed in to get ready, putting the homework assignments on the teacher's desk. Someone took a seat next to him, it was bound to happen sometime. Charlie turned his head. He hadn't found anyone he got along with at this school yet. Then the familiar voice spoke, "So, how's your morning been?" It was that nerd from the bus, this must have been the class they had together. The features finally seemed to be recognizable, now that Charlie was awake. The boy was short-brown-messy haired, with spots of bad acne, and wire rimmed glasses. He looked him down. He wore a generic loose gray tee shirt and jeans and athletic shoes.

Charlie shrugged, hoping the dork would get the cold shoulder quick, he wasn't interested in making friends. Instead the nerd replied back, "Yeah, same here. So..."

The teacher entered and Charlie had never been so glad for a class to begin. Charlie watched as the nerd took notes, writing with a frantic attentiveness, it was like he was obsessed. On one glance Charlie saw the kid watching him back, what was wrong with him? Lunch finally came as class ended, but not before his new stalker stopped him again, "Hey Charlie you have any plans for lunch?"

The nerd was insistent, but Charlie didn't even know his name, he glanced at the notebook in the nerd's hand, 'Rich,' good enough... "Why?" Charlie asked.

The nerd looked around, "I don't know, I just thought it'd be nice, I noticed you don't really have any friends."

"Just bug off," Charlie told him and walked away.

Rich looked at him, he was like a sad little puppy, Charlie thought.
---

The day passed on as usual. He stepped off the bus without anymore incident from Rich. The sun was lower and lower in the sky as the days were passing. It was a warmer fall day, but the air was crisp as Charlie liked it. The wind blew against him, the bus rolled on as the exhaust filled the general area. He actually liked this time of day. Charlie looked across the street at the cemetery. It always seemed so quite. The day was still early but it was quickening to night. He turned as the wind howled. He opened the door with the latch key and let the breeze blow through the screen door. The fresh wind would be good to air out the house.

In the little time they'd lived in it, the cigarette smoke and dankness had reaked and made it gloomy. Charlie walked up to his room and opened his door. It was small but his. The light drifted in and out past the light curtains, casting waves like an ocean on everything it reached. He tossed his bag on the bed and switched his computer on and left to get snacks. The house seemed to almost be falling apart, the stairs squeaked and rolled as he took his steps on them. The railing along the side was missing, it looked like there was a door between the front area and the kitchen that'd long been removed. At least everything in the kitchen worked.

He opened the fridge and grabbed some fruit from the bottom and went back upstairs. He hustled into his room and kicked his feet up onto his desk as he stretched into his chair and logged onto his instant messengers. He turned the radio on and tried to go through his homework, assignment by assignment.

Night soon approached, Charlie watched as the wind grew colder blowing though the window's cracks. the sunlight dwindled and the street lights flickered to life, lighting the roads and front lawns of the houses. The light from the computer screen grew brighter as the darkness did. Charlie flipped the lamp on as the glow was too weak to read with. The screen door slammed closed as a woman's voice yelled up, "I'm home!"

Charlie yelled down, "I'll be right there Mom!" Charlie shut his books and ran down.

"Hey honey, how was school?" The lady asked setting down a large purse and apron in anticipation of a hug.

"Not too bad, the usual," Charlie replied.

"Aren't you going to get a hair cut?" she asked brushing the dark brown out of his eyes.

"Mom.." he cringed.

She smiled and walked into the kitchen, "have you had anything for dinner?"

"Not yet," he told her as he walked back up the stairs to his room. He looked out the window and saw his own reflection, he straightened his hair by tasseling it. He wriggled the window open and ducked to get a clear view of the distance. The stone structure mausoleums stood higher over the almost pitch blackness of the ground of the resting places of individuals. Charlie loved the fact he lived across the street from a cemetery. Granted, at times when the idea actually reached him it seemed it should be creepy, but the better of the time he liked it. It was fascinating.

There wasn't really anything creepy about it. It wasn't spooky, it was normal. Nothing happened in a cemetery, it was like the woods or a park. For the most part it was quiet, it was just a big open space, sometimes people went in and out. All that stood there were the monuments, remembering the dead. He liked the ability to say he lived across from it, it crept other people out.

It did seem to always get darker there than anywhere else, maybe it was just a lack of lights or because he wasn't used to it, since he'd moved and had been regulated to more city glow. It seemed somehow fitting but it was still a bit unsettling for something that shouldn't have been, which fascinated him. He's never noticed it before elsewhere.

Charlie sat back down to study more as he listened to Nirvana play their cool melody to the wind. Soon enough his mother called up for dinner. He walked out the door and looked back as he felt a strong breeze blow through at him.
---

"So, is Dad going to be home tonight?" Charlie asked as he took a bite of brocilli.

His mother looked at him with a pitied look on her face, "No, he said maybe tomorrow evening he'd be home for the night."

Charlie moved to another subject quickly, thinking of her answer, happy, yet not, "How was your work? Any decent tips?"

His mother smiled, "Nope, nothing today, not yet! I guess there really aren't that many kind people with a little cash to share... Tammy said she's going to think about giving me a raise though."

"That's awesome Mom! Why didn't you mention it earlier?" Charlie asked putting his fork down as he beamed at the news.

"Hold up, it isn't certain..." she trailed off, forcing her smile.

Charlie finished clearing his plate and complemented on the meal and moved the empty plates to the sink and piled them to be washed for tomorrow.

"I still have some homework to finish. Do you need me to do anything?"

"No, it's fine honey, any chance you'll be doing anything later tonight, friends?" she asked.

"No, same as always."

"Alright sweetie," she replied, sounding concerned.
---

Charlie watched out the window, staring hard at the tall, iron fence of the cemetery, it was almost a hobby at this point. He would do this as a break for writing his composition and literature work, it helped clear his mind, at least he said that to himself. The chilling air still blew through the open window, his room was getting cold, much colder than he liked. He looked at his computer screen, several message screens stood open. Instead of a bunch of friends from there at school, he had some from chicago still such as Rachel and tons from his social boards online. He talked to all of them via instant messenger. He typed a few quick messages and went back to staring back out the window.

A couple passed walking their dog, it was rare for anyone to ever be out walking around here. Guess it's a good night, he thought. it was still only eight pm, but it looked like it was ten for him. He walked over to his door and grabbed the coat off the hook on the back. It was bothering him how cold it'd gotten, but the freshness still was more enjoyable over the dank air of the stuffy smokey house.

He opened the door, he'd never tried it. All the time he'd been here he'd never actually tried going for a walk. He'd never wanted to, he thought to himself. He walked down the steps and yelled out to his mom, "I'm going for a walk."

His mother turned her head to her son in surprise and said the only thing she could, "Okay... uh, be careful," she watched him leave, unable to do anything else than watch.

He stepped out to the chilled air, though outside it almost seemed a bit warmer than what'd he felt inside his room. He looked both ways down the street, trying to decide which way to go. He went down the right and took in the sight of the quant small mid-western street at night. Everything seemed colder, not deader, but just more cold at night, in the light and air of the fall. He looked at the houses, he'd never paid any attention to them. He'd not really given any attention to much during the past few months, he thought. They looked allot like his, a bit run down, 50s style ranch houses; quite. Guess this was small town for you.

He looked up the street. It seemed the dog walkers had turned in or down another street. The chirp of birds and bugs filled his ears. Noise of the background of televisions through open windows polluted the song of the creatures. For the love of all his bands Charlie could barely stand the noise of the televisions and noise from the houses. He'd never found anything like this in Chicago. it was new... strange. Noise was old, this was welcomed voyeurism, an open window to people's lives. Charlie didn't want to see that.

Charlie looked to his left, the iron fence of the cemetery had followed him, or he'd followed it. Charlie darted across the street. This side saw no lights directly above him, the street lamps' flood just barely reached over to the side. He turned down the street at the end of the block and continued along the edge of the cemetery's high-standing guards.

The houses seemed to get better he noticed, looking at the places back across the street. The paint looked fresher and the lights were brighter on all the houses. They were different styles too and the sounds coming from the houses were less as well, or maybe it was just better windows...

Charlie looked in at the cemetery, trying to get a view of the graves, he still could barely see them. The darkness of the grounds seemed to engulf all corners. He looked further down the street, trying to see how far the fence went before it reached the gates. He couldn't see anything different yet. The further he looked back, the darker it got.

A door slammed open to the side of him as he gave up looking. "Hey what are you doing?" Rich called out.

Charlie turned his head and saw the nerd running across the street to him. 'How? Seriously!' he thought. Charlie looked at him as he approached, not saying anything.

"Hey, what's up?" Rich asked, huffing as he said it. Charlie looked at him without pity. What was the kid doing? Tracking him?

"Nice night for a walk," Rich commented with a push on his glasses.

"Yeah," Charlie replied back. He couldn't make of what to think of the persistence.

"So, you going anywhere here?" Rich asked. He was full of questions.

"No, not really, just walking. Why?" Charlie asked in a dead stone voice.

"Just asking," Rich said quietly, "Isn't it cool? you are following the graveyard? Right?"

"I guess I'm following it," Charlie told him.

"You live right across from it too. It's cool, huh? Do you ever just watch it?" Rich asked, "I do it all the time."

"Why would you do that?" Charlie asked, "Are you watching for ghosts or something?"

"Yeah, kind of. Have you ever seen something? You haven't lived here as long, but still?"

"No..." Charlie responded, looking at rich skeptically, "Don't tell me you have..."

"Yeah, a couple of times. It was crazy cool, though it's not like you realize it right away, but then something happens that shouldn't and then you're like, 'whoa.' I'm sure you'll see something sometime," Rich finally stopped.

Charlie looked him up and down. The boy must have been mad. Charlie couldn't even try to be mean to him after that, "Okay. well, I guess I'll keep my eyes out. What all did you see?" he asked in honest interest.

"A couple things, just people, they looked like they were from past years or something," Charlie told him. Then he said, "Do you notice how the light seems to not really go in past the gates and all?"

Charlie stopped, "Yeah, actually. Why?" he looked at Rich, now he was intrigued.

Rich told him, "I don't know, it's just something I've noticed. It seems creepy too, to me."

"Each his own," Charlie said, ready to continue walking on.

Rich started walking down the street so Charlie followed. Rich called back, "Hey, you want to go in? See what's inside?"

"It's just graves, don't you have any respect?" Charlie barked back.

"It's not like we'd be doing anything destructive," Rich argued.

"Do you know where the front gate is?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, follow me. Was that where you were trying to find your way to?" He asked, "It's up just a little bit, around the corner. Do you want to go in?"

Charlie looked at him, "Not really, but if the gate is open, fine."

"For someone that's all emo and goth you sure don't seem too interested," Rich sneered.

Charlie snapped, "You're just like everyone else. I'm not "emo" or goth. You don't know me man."

"Sorry. I just... never mind. I'm sorry, forgive me? Please?" Rich pleaded, he looked sorry enough. He stopped and folded his hands for Charlie in a pathetic angel like pose. Charlie nodded without caring. Rich smiled and turned to continue walking, "Still though, I dare you to go in! I'll go with you, I'll go either way!"

"You're really into this whole ghost thing or whatever aren't you?" Charlie remarked.

"Yeah, you didn't think I was, did you? We're all full of surprises," Rich quipped back.

Charlie looked up in slight guilt, "Guess so," he said.

"Well, we're here," Rich told him.


Part 2-LITHIUM

The gate fell back from the fence, it was just as high and more elaborate, old, and almost rusting. Charlie looked up at it. The tops of the rods were sharp and pointing skyward. The middle was the highest with the out ones receding. The corners were giant stone blocks about five feet high. Charlie put a hand on one of the blocks.

"Simple yet impressive," Rich said.

"Yeah."

"Well, the gate isn't open but the bar on that side is missing..." Rich said smiling and pointing past Charlie towards a hole in the side, "It's been there forever, they aren't going to fix it."

"Fine, whatever," Charlie said as he began towards the hole. The chilled wind blew past him, colder than the hour before. The closer he got to the stones, the better he could see them. The graves looked old. The stones, markers, looked worn, shaped with curved heads. They didn't shine like the ones he remebered seeing at his grandpa's funeral, but not as old as the ones he saw on his school field trip. The boys stood, Rich waited, as charlie tried to make out the date on a stone. Rich spoke up, "I think the older ones are further in the back.

"When we were younger, the older kids would dare us to come in here and find the oldest head stone and get a rubbing of it. I never did, I was always too scared," rich explained, almost seeming to shake ready to bolt one way or the other.

"Yeah? what was the oldest?" Charlie asked.

"Billy Coudder got one that was from 1830, supposedly. I never saw it but that was always supposed to be the date to beat. No one ever managed to get it though. The further back we go the older the graves are supposed to get."

Charlie looked at him, then started walking back. He passed the rows of gravestones, all lined up sitting a few feet from each other. They all looked from about the same era, a few of them a bit more fancy, a few larger.

Charlie pulled his coat in tighter around him. He looked back at rich, he shivered with his bare arms wrapped around him. His shirt fluttered in the wind. The nerd had rushed out without thinking, never looking back, "Why didn't you grab your coat?"

"I don't know," Rich laughed, "I wasn't thinking. and I'm supposed to be smart, huh?" he chuckled.

They continued walking though the grass, passing head stones on either side. A gravel road crossed them ahead. Past it charlie could make out a sort of gleam off one of the stones. He looked back at Rich and smiled to himself, so much for the theory of the further back the older... They were getting deeper and deeper, closer to the middle. The plots looked perfectly lined in grid formation. The stones were larger. Some had pictures, forever carved for the memory of any that looked upon them. Charlie looked back at Rich, he was still shivering. He couldn't stand seeing him freeze, the boy was like a puppy or something, "Here," Charlie said pulling his coat off him, offering it to Rich.

Rich took it and and put it around himself. It was heavy and already quite warm from Charlie. They walked through the newer graves, Charlie felt the whip of the wind on his coat-less arms. It had been dark for sometime. but now it completely engulfed them. Charlie saw the depth of the darkness to it's fullest extent, In every direction he couldn't see any lights. None of the street lamps reached in this far with their sodium vapor lights. Charlie couldn't see past a few feet in front of him. He could see a head stone but nothing past it, it was like walking into the land of shadows. As they continued walking, Charlie turned and saw Rich was directly behind him. His face glowed with awe and something that resembled fear.
:::

The door cracked open and a rush of cold fresh air blew through. The walls were cold, the floor was clammy. The small room breathed out a stagnant staled breath as the boys stepped in; looking and being unable to see their hands in front of themselves. They were ripe for a target. All it would take was one slip down the stairs. A bump on the head... the twisted, wooden door creaked behind them as they walked down the stairs, they turned looking out, trying to see what it was that made the noise. One missed step, wrongly taken... The boy in front had his head still turned as he put his foot down on the next tier... If he slipped he could fall staight down onto the edge of the niche and break open his head, in the panic maybe the boy behind would slip and fall on top of the now unconscious comrade and panic, lose his glasses and trip someplace while trying to get away...
:::

The trees rustled in the wind as they passed by them. The leaves on the ground crackled as they passed over. The grounds had become more sporatic. Nothing lied next to each other. The boys walked with their heads up trying to see beyond, to the end of the grounds. Charlie looked back to Rich, he seemed much better than before, warmer; though it'd gotten colder, charlie stuck his hand in his pocket, it must be getting later than what he'd imagined. His hand felt around his pocket but could find no phone. He turned to his tag-along, "Did you bring your cell phone?"

"No, you need to call someone?" Rich answered.

Charlie uttered an obscenity under his breath.

Rich looked up at Charlie in shock, then snapped at him unlike Charlie thought the nerd had in him, "Why'd you say that? You can't say that! Not here! This is holy ground! It's bad luck!"

Charlie looked back at him, "I felt like it, what could happen? I don't see anyone around that's going to do anything. Do nuns wander around graveyards at night or something?"

Rich looked at him, "Leave the dead to rest, in peace."

Charlie gave him his skeptical eye, "And you heard that where?"

"It's real. You don't want to get them mad."

Charlie turned back forward and stopped. He turned back to Rich and motioned forward, "Did you just see anything?" he asked.

Rich looked past Charlie and shook his head. Charlie turned around and felt chills overtake him. He thought it over in his head replaying the last couple seconds. There hadn't been any sound. Just the shadow, a shadow pass, run across his vision, yards in front of him. It was a woman, in the cemetery, at maybe eleven at night? Rich asked him a question. Charlie hadn't heard, "Where'd you see it," Rich asked again.

"Up there, just up in front of us..." he mumbled back.

Rich tugged, "Lets go find it," Rich ran up looking for the mysterious figure he hadn't seen.

Charlie ran after him, rubbing his arms, he wanted his coat back now. If he had it, he'd have half a mind to leave the coot here and get back home, "Why are you running towards it? I don't really feel like seeing it again! Besides, what happened to leave the dead to rest?" Charlie yelled up to Rich.
:::

The door slammed closing the body in. Trapping it, nothing would enter and nothing would leave. The stone house sat surrounded by empty lots, fresh. It was a beautiful location. It sat on its own, eye on the rest. The darkness closed in on the cement sarcophagus housing the newly dead man resting inside the decorated wooden box. Outside the crying women and children stood next to solemn standing men. The day was growing older, setting the sun to the horizon.
:::

They got to the tree and rich looked around, searching. Charlie was getting angry and cold, he stood looking down at the base of the tree, the darkness was still black. He say a headstone out of the corner of his eye. He turned to it and knelled to look it over. He could almost make out the name, it looked like something and 'Samantha.'

"You found something? What is it?" Rich inquired, stumbling over, he pulled his glasses off and wiped the condensation off them, "Maybe it was her. Maybe she wanted us to find her grave."

Charlie looked at where he figured Rich was at. He couldn't even see in front of him, he spoke, "Rich, can you see me?"

"Kind of. You are right in front of me, I mean I can hear you, I can kind of feel you," he explained.

<i> It's how the dead see. <i>

Charlie shuddered and brought his head closer to the stone to try and read it. He felt it, a cold hard pulsing stone, it was the feeling of something living. It was the beating of blood rushing though living tissue, pumping back to its heart. He pulled his hand back and shot himself into Rich who fell hard backwards onto the ground, Charlie yelled out and cursed again, then wished he hadn't.

Rich grimaced and tried to move around, "What happened?"

"Rich, what's going on here? What'd you plan? This isn't right man!" Charlie shot at him, as he felt around trying to find his surroundings. He slipped his hands around in the dewy grass and tried to stand himself up.

Rich rubbed his wrists and looked in the direction of Charlie's voice, "I don't know. I'm not doing anything! This place is haunted."

Charlie tried to look around, but found nothing he could see, "Man, I'm blind."

Rich sat trying to find an intelligent response. He couldn't see Charlie though, he could just hear him, "I think I am too. Help me up. I'm right next to you."

Charlie bent down and put his hand out. He wished rich would find Rich's hand quicker, he had a bad feeling about all of it, something was chilling his neck.

It was the lady, she sat so still now, with a sorrow he could feel from her. She looked downward to the ground next to the headstone she sat on. A lacy veil sat over her face, her dress was simple, downe white. She looked at him and screamed, but nothing came out. The emotion poured from her face, they had to go. Charlie shouted at rich to get up. Rich pulled on Charlie's hand and managed to his feet. They were lost though, with no idea where they were.
:::

He sat rocking back and forth. His legs were folded in a criss-cross on the cold grass. He watched from a distance, moving closer every few minutes. They looked fun. He wanted to play with them. The closer he got the faster he rocked. He knew them. They were his friends. He loved his friends. He'd been lonely for so long but now they'd come to play. His unruly hair bounced in his eyes, dirt shook from it, the greasy clots fell over his ears and neck. He clicked his nails on his arms in melody to his rocking. He loved his friends and now they were here. They would have so much fun...
:::

The graveyard was quite. Dead. They couldn't stop it. It was a force, the badness... Not the death, something else, a negative... It slumped, carrying itself, dragging to something melic, lisping itself, a darkness unlike the night; the thoughts it carried. It passed, looking beyond to something closer, fresh to devour.
::

It was dark. He'd been asleep for a while and had just woken up. He couldn't see anything around him. It was night out, the last he remembered was looking outside and seeing the sun out nice and bright. He heard something far off so loud it was shaking. the rumble was a silent rushing noise, it was like a monster... Like the roar of thunder, it was long and continuous. It was growing louder... It was like one of those horrible stories his father used to tell them. The evil things that lived in the woods; red and white on their faces, with hair all over, fingernails sharp like knives and feet like dogs.

He tried to role to his side but he hit a wall. He tried to lift his arms to his side and found a cover over him. He cried trapped in the box. He stuggled hitting everything around him. The futility of the situation sank in... It was over, the rumble grew closer, the noise was like a crunch, the sound of something like snow under a wheel. It was on him. Above him, far above him. The sound was thunderous, but he couldn't here a thing, there was nothing there. he opened his eyes, and saw the slight sight of light breaking though, he saw it shuffle between the boards above him. He was buried. He heard the sound of something burrowing down to him, he'd be freed from this mistake, he wasn't supposed to be in here! It was a bad dream, he'd heard about things like this, rumors of distant relatives, buried after falling asleep and being mistaken for dead! He banged around more, he screamed for help, he wasn't dead. It was close, right on the other side of the board... It sounded like a string instrument, streched and bowed to the ends. The boards made a cracking sound and he heard the sound of the evil creatures from the stories, his father told him they sounded like the wild dogs panting, a serpent's hiss, though he had no idea what that was like, like a war cry of a wild man! The shadows of light disappeared.

It was complete darkness again and a warm feeling engulfed him, then he grew cold. He felt pressure. His nails felt small sensations of scratching a chalkboard at school, then they felt pulled back, and rips at the ends of them. He screamed and hit his head on the top of the box. The box felt smaller, he felt his body cramping, like his muscles were ripping. He screamed and heard the top board creak like someone was shifting on it. The muscles loosened but the pressure was increasing. He felt snaps of pain in his hands and arms and then his chest. His bones bent at angles like a mannequin dancing a funny jig. He cried out and saw what wasn't there, the material was bundled together in a messy loose manner it was a thing a monster of goo without color, worse than the blackness of his box. It drug itself over the top breaking and cracking the box. The boy laughed and closed his eyes as it covered his face ripping the skin from his neck and licking at his lips.
:::

The last of the mourners left, the lady sat on the ground, ruining her dress as she did. the night was nearly complete in setting itself in now. She looked through her blurred eyes at the far end of the cemetery and saw the last dear man standing watching and waiting for her. She turned her gaze and looked down. She would leave alone. The man left her.

She cried and watched as the last of the light disappeared. She banged on the wooden door and shed more tears for her husband. She shuddered at the cold and cried more. She didn't want to go. No one could help her now. She heard thunder in the distance and began her tears again and collapsed to her arms. The grasp of the building held her, she didn't want to leave her husband alone. She didn't want to be left alone.
:::

Charlie's mother looked out the window and laughed to herself, it'd been a rough few days, a rough few years. She didn't like her life that much... But she loved her son, even if he didn't realize it. They were in it together right? She chuckled. They were in it for him. She was long gone.
:::

The night was growing deeper. Something passed them as they stood in the blackness. Charlie tried to focus his eyes to the darkness. Nothing had been coming. The wind howled at them, mocking the situation. The brisk cold continued growing and Charlie shivered. He pulled on Rich, motioning to move, they had to find someplace, someway to get out of this retched place.

"Hello there, are you two lost?" a voice called out. Charlie looked out to try and see where the man's voice had come from. He looked but couldn't see anything still. The man's feet crunched leaves as he drew closer, "It gets pretty dark out here at night. You're lucky you didn't pass by a fresh grave or the two of you might not have been found," he laughed and must have been right next to the boys. "Follow me now," he murmured as he took Charlie's hand. As they walked on, the old man tried to continue small talk which rich was willing to answer.

The old man disturbed Charlie. There seemed something wrong with him. He was probably some perverted creep that wanted to molest them, leading them back to his shack in the graveyard. Charlie head the man's breathing next to him and felt an arm and hand over his neck and shoulder. It felt cold and dried. The skin was wrinkled and loose, it was too close to him, and it was cold, he didn't like the closeness. He tried to pull away but the arm stayed on him pulling him back. Rich continued the small talk, telling him about the ghost they'd seen, well, that Charlie had seen. The old man responded sounding delighted to endulge Rich's interest. Charlie pulled away again but the man's grip tightened on him, "Now boy, you need to stay close or yeh might trip yourself and break a leg! Then I'd have to explain that to your mother and I'm sure she wouldn't like that! Come closer now... It's not too further." A light showed in the window a little ways away from a small shack, though Charlie didn't recognize where they were.

Charlie spoke, "Aren't you taking us to the gate?"

"I will but it's not safe right now! You wouldn't like what's out there right now, it's something bad. Worse than the dogs. Worse than the ghosts, ha! The ghosts wouldn't hurt you, not most of them," he smiled in the weak light.

Charlie could see him now, the man stood between them, not much taller than Charlie, hunched a bit, wrinkles covered his face and neck, his hair stood short and his nose jutted out with darting eyes covered by white neat brows. His suspenders looked starched and faded. Charlie smelled the sweet cherry of cigars wifting off the man now.

A dog barked from someplace off, "Dumb mutts! It's sick, they get in here and dig the older bones up," the old man muttered, "I find them chewing them bones and ripped clothes under a tree and I sneak up behind them and whack them with my shovel!"

Charlie twisted his face in repulse. The action replayed in his mind, he imagined the man walking behind a dog and slamming a shovel over the unsupecting animal's head. It was fitting in a sick twisted way. The man would do it.

They got closer to the shack, Charlie could see now the flickering of the light came from a candle on the window sill. the structure was more so an oversized equipment storage closet. The light slipped around and cast small shadows on the inside of the space, making it look like little gnomes were at work inside. Charlie didn't want to go in, something frightened him about the place, it was the reflection of the man guiding them to it that bothered him. It filled him with dread.

"Is there a phone in there?" Charlie asked.

"What do you mean, 'is there a phone in there?'" the old man asked turning a cold eye to the boy.

"You said something about calling our parents, I mean you don't expect us to stay hear all night, do you?"

"There's not even electricity on the grounds and it's not like it's my job to babysit you kids runnin' round in the graves! Be happy I'm offerin' you shelter! It gets deathly cold out at night."

Charlie kicked the dirt in the path and broke the man's grasp on him, "I'm not staying here, you sick pervert! Rich! let's take our chances on our own!"

Rich watched as Charlie backed himself away from them and stood in the light. Rich tried to release the man's grip but the old man had been ready and held tighter, Rich wasn't strong enough. The old man laughed and cried out, "Yer both goin' to die out there! I'm savin yer lives!"

Charlie charged the man and pushed him to the ground breaking his hold on Rich, the next second later Charlie felt the coldness run through his hands, the odd sensation made him look down at the old man, it was like he'd stuck his hands on dry ice.

The keeper was sprawled on the ground screaming curses at Charlie, Charlie cringed while watching the man seethe in pain, it was sad in some way, he sounded as if in fear. The words were bluff for something deeper, for the emotions of dark, wandering, ominousness. Charlie backed up with a caution he didn't really want to admit he felt for, because facing that truth would mean something much worse for himself and Rich.

Rich nudged his glasses back up on his nose and stood behind Charlie watching the man that had been guiding them so seemingly kindly. Rich looked to his friend and asked, "What are you waiting for? Is he okay?"

Charlie glanced back and mumbled a 'yeah' and turned and said, with a face of confidence on now, "Let's get out of here."

The old man's voice carried toward them in the wind and sounded clear with strength they hadn't seen in him, "Wait, children! Why leave so soon? We were just getting started!"

The boys turned there heads and saw him standing back up but it seemed all so wrong. He'd fallen in a way he must have broken at least something in him, yet there he was pushing on the dew ridden, green grass with his boney, dusty brown, pale hands, making a crushing sound, possibly in him. It was like one million finger nails snapping at once reverberating to Charlie's ears and through his brain. The man stood and clawed at the air in front of himself almost tossing himself back to the ground.

Charlie stood with the terror he'd been feeling forebode in his mind rush at him. He turned and pulled Rich out of a stare he'd locked into and ran. The old man was watching them run, cursing and mumbling at them. The boys dodged headstone and headstone as they tried to place space between them and the old man.
---

Charlie and rich cut through the darkness, splitting the void as it filled back behind them. The cold silence laced the air around them in the chaos of their run. Thoughts filled Charlie as he regressed in his mind to the mental state of a child, the feeling of isolation and unreadiness. The fears of the worst and impossible didn't seem so far off now. The old man crept through the graveyard dragging the dog-blooded shovel, chipping it against the stony graves as he chased after them in Charlie's head.

Rich pulled Charlie to the left and behind a large soldier monument. They ducked from instinct as they listened to the manacle laugh in the wind. Charlie watched with his neck tilted around the corner of their hiding place. Rich looked around trying to find a better cover. A mausoleum stood a few yards away with small head stones between them and it. Rich felt the other boy's cold hand on his shoulder and he turned around. Charlie was knelt with his back turned to Rich. Rich startled charlie as he pulled him around face to face. Rich looked around them searching for the owner of the chilled hand. He didn't want to find it, but he looked all the same.

Charlie heard shuffling from beside him and looked back at Rich. He grabbed him by the shoulder and knocked him off his balance. He glanced backward behind them and then back to Rich giving him a startled questioning look. Rich tried to mouth back 'ghosts.' The boys listened trying to hear the mad beat and chipping of the old man running after them with the shovel but couldn't hear anything in the wind. Charlie wondered about the hour. How much time had they passed getting lost in this old place? It wasn't late when he'd left, and it couldn't have been late when they entered... His mother would worry about him now... When he didn't show up.

Charlie heard it and his thoughts were broken, "Help me!" It carried clearly through the air and to their ears. Charlie looked at Rich and back to the source out in the cemetery somewhere. The voice called out again, it was like a boy's,young, scared, and immature. It filled the cemetery again, reaching their ears. Charlie looked at Rich, the gleam in his eye was pure and eager, wanting to find and help the voice's owner however he could. Charlie bent over and whispered, "It's got to be a ghost."

Charlie glanced around looking again for any sign of their hunter. Then there was the steady click in the distance and a rapid mutter that all he could make out was, "Hold your britches..."

The trees' shadow's looked alive moving about on the grass and stones. Out there the old caretaker moved past them to the cries of the unknown boy. Rich looked to Charlie and Charlie looked back and motioned to move up to a tree ahead of them. It almost looked like the same spot they'd been at when the woman had appeared to them, Charlie noticed. It was large with wide low branches, empty of leaves.

The voice of the boy was a bit louder now; they were getting closer. They moved again, passing rows and rows of stones. It was empty of cover as they ducked the best they could. Charlie kept his eyes to their side, always watching for the creep stalking them. The boy never stopped calling out, the closer they got the clearer they could hear him, it sounded like he was struggling, and sniffling.
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