It was dark, not a candle lit on the path through the graveyard. Your shitty friends dared you to come here.
You pass the graves two... three rows up. You can see the mausolem at the top of the hill and shudder. The grave you seek is beside a weeping willow. You try not to think what could lurk behind the shielding branches.
Thomas Albright.
You look around one last time, then sink down and position yourself in the cold earth. Grass doesn't grow here, or maybe it is just well tended. When you feel your head positioned at the base of the pink marble headstone you close your eyes.
"Can you tell me a story?" you ask, hating the way your voice sounds in the too open night air.
You listen intently. Nothing is going to happen. All you need to do is wait ten seconds then you can walk down the hill and-
"I went to the graveyard"