The Old Hilltop Cemetery

As I slowly walk up to the grave site full of old dead forgotten Catholics, the stench of deteriorating bodies and mustiness overwhelms me. As my eyes look upon one of the many old graves there, I can see the remnants of faded words and dates that fill my mind with thoughts of death and sorrow. The old grave yard has become abandoned and forsaken from the world below. The ground was strewn with old fragments of head stones and pieces of wooden crosses. Dead blades of grass and weeds putrid through the crevices of the head stones that mark each grave as if to try and destroy the stone markers so they can fall like the others have done. The uneven ground was covered with many mounds of dirt where the coffins had slowly resin. In some areas years of rain and elements of the weather have eroded the soil exposing the long wooden coffins below.
The black night created an eerie sense of forbidden sacred territory that I was trespassing upon. The eerie shadows were cast upon the slates of rock and the ugly briers where entangled around the broken tombstones.
The wind howled through the trees like a lonely, hurt wolf howling in the distance. The trees swayed and it’s branches seemed to reach down and enfold me into the abyss of the grave yard.
As I slowly turned to walk away from this place of long forgotten souls a chill ran through my spine as if the souls were crying out to me saying to not go and I felt their long bony fingers reaching out to grab me and pull me into the dark ground below with them, into the darkness.
When I got on the bottom of the hill I turned once more and looked at the lonely tombstones that lay on the hill, that over the years had been gone and pulled away from the forgotten outside world.