Wandering through the graveyard it felt like something was watching us. Me and my friends trudged through the dark and misty graveyard where trees poked out of the darkness as we moved past them. The Idea of spending the night in a graveyard started to feel like a bad idea, and I could see my friends thinking the something as we moved deeper and deeper into the cold aroma of the land. We came up to a large headstone in which we couldn’t make out, and a weeping willow drooped over head. We decided to go no further and camp out on top of where someone was once buried. We set out our sleeping bags next to the weeping willow and settled in for the long and anxiety flooded night. We still felt like something was watching us. That night I dreamed of something. No, someone, the ghostly figure whispered a name I could barley make it out. “Joe.” It wasn’t until the sweet taste of morning that the feeling of relief overcame my weak body. The sweet feeling of relief quickly left as I could now make out the name written on the headstone we were stationed at. “Joe” was all it said.
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