I arrive at the peeling black gates. Pushing them slowly open, I chew my tongue nervously, a faint metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I shouldn't take that long, I think. It's just a shortcut and I need to get home. The first thing I see is a small tombstone of a little girl. Reading the dates, I see she died only a week ago, and was only nine. That's so sad, I think. The faint fog swirls around my ankles as I go deeper into the graveyard. The inky black sky, devoid of stars, bares down on me as the full moon casts eerie shadows across the rows of headstones. The harsh wind cuts through my thin shirt, raising goosebumps on my arms.

Suddenly, I feel something brush against me. I whirl around, only to find nothing there, except gnarled, crooked trees creaking in the wind. I continue on. A small, cold, clammy finger brushes my neck. I whirl around again, tripping on a protruding root. I scream, the harsh sound muffled in the silvery fog. I land in a newly dug grave! I scramble out, my frantic fingers finding handles among the tangle of roots covering the sides.

I run faster, faster, until the tombs become dim blurs on either side of me. I feel more small fingers at my back, and I push on harder. I stop suddenly, my hair and clothes caught up in fingers... but they are only sharp twigs. I untangle myself, then run. A screeching, snowy-white owl dive-bombs my head. I am glad for the sound. The shadows all around me flicker, seeming to take on human shapes. The sickly-sweet smell of old flowers fills the air, making me gag. The air holds a feeling in it, like spirits, floating around, filling me with grief. It eats up all sound. The tapping on my shoulder starts again. I always run in the opposite direction.

"Is someone there?" I call, not wanting an answer. My legs ache from running. A slow, burning pain is slowly filling them. I can't run much longer. The shadows are getting longer, seeming to chase me. The smell of rotting corpses fill the air, making my stomach churn. And always the tapping. A lone wolf howls, making me jump. Others join it, singing their ghostly song. Suddenly, just as I'm about to collapse, I see a pair of iron gates, and a street near my house through them. I streak for it. As I pass through, the ghostly giggling of a little girl follows me, with the faint scent of a newly dug grave.