DeCipherTheMind

No one ever went inside Elmer Graveyard. Ever. Maybe it was the foreboding sign plastered on the stone archway leading into the iron gates, bearing the message “Trespassers Beware.” Perhaps it was the eerie whistling sound the trees made as the wind rustled their decaying branches. It could’ve simply been the faded gravestones, tilted and sinking in the ever-moist earth.

And yet here I was, crumpled report card in my fist, the wind tousling my auburn locks, the bright moon laughing at my failure. I hissed between my gritted teeth, throwing open the rusted gate and wincing at the horrible screeching sound it emanated. It grated through my bones like sandpaper to wood, but it felt like nothing after what I had faced just hours earlier.

I stomped down the crooked, faded path, stopping every so often to kick a gravestone or two. Who even cares about some stupid guy who died in the nineteenth century? I sure didn’t. Then again, it could be that because I didn’t care about old dead guys, I wasn’t going to graduate on to the college of my dreams.

I stopped under a skeletal tree in the very far corner of the expanse, the gnarled roots twisting together like fraying rope. I sank down to my knees, digging my nails into the muddy ground. A part of me knew that simply burying my mistakes under a pile of earth and denial wouldn’t solve anything, but I was on autopilot.

I shoved the mangled sheet of printer paper down as far as it would go, then covered it with a thick layer of earth. Then, to finish it off, I shoved the heel of my sneaker on top of it, twisting it around and shoving it down farther.

“What are you doing?”

I leaped backwards, hissing a few choice words. Perched in the treetops was the lone figure of a man, staring down at me with shimmering periwinkle eyes. His red, unbuttoned dress shirt resembled more of a rust color in the pale light, his tattered slacks frayed at the bottoms. He grinned, the full moon illuminating his outline like a shadow puppet.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?!” I sputtered, furrowing my brow.

“Sorry,” the stranger responded, but not one ounce of regret heavied his words. “You seem flustered. May I ask why?”

“None of your business,” I hissed, crossing my arms, “Just...get outta here.”’

He didn’t budge, choosing to stare at me like a demented owl.

“I’m...I’m going through some stuff right now. That’s it. Buzz off,” I growled. staring him down with equal force.

“What kind of ‘stuff?’” he asked with unexpectedly cheerful tone, sitting and dangling his legs off the edge of the branch, which surprisingly did not sag under his weight, “Nothing you can tell me?”

“I told you to buzz off! Leave me alone! Where’d you even come from?”

He tilted his head, and his elfish features were shadowed in the moonlight. “Are you scared of me?”

“What? No!”

He chuckled. “Want to stargaze with me? The moon is absolutely beautiful tonight!” He gestured to the sky, a blindingly white grin resting on his lips.

“Um, no. Why would I stare up at the sky with some creepy dude I just met?!”

He showed off a condescending smile, complimented by his tousled raven locks and nearly translucent, pale skin. Noticing my expression, he raised a curved eyebrow. “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” he mumbled, his smile disappearing, “You’re smarter than you let on. I can tell.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I felt something sinister about the stranger in front of me, the kind of vibe you would get from a haunted house. I suddenly had the urge to sprint away as fast as I could. My eyes flickered to the right. There was an opening in the rusted fence.

I took a cautious step forward. His smile disappeared. Another step, and I was inches away from being out of that stupid graveyard forever. “Wait,” he muttered, extending a hand.

I ducked, quickly stepping through the fence. A hand caught the back of my leather jacket, and my heart’s pounding resonated through my head. When my head whipped around, I saw that he was laying stomach-down on the branch, his arm outstretched and fingers wrapped around the fabric of my jacket. “Don’t go,” he muttered. Something was in his hand, something long, with a wickedly sharp, curved blade at the end. A scythe.

“You trying to kill me?!?” I screamed, thrashing wildly in his grasp.

“I’m trying to help you!” he answered with wild eyes, holding fast, “Do you know what a grim reaper is?”

“Yeah! Enough to know that hanging around them ends badly for a guy like me!” I felt his fingers slip, and I took my chance to climb through the hole out into the street. I stumbled, falling onto my knees and scraping my palms on the rough asphalt.

Breathing heavily, I looked back at my attacker. He was suddenly on the ground, his thin hands clutching the crooked iron bars separating us. “It’s not supposed to end like this,” he whispered, his face solemn.

“End like what?! My grades suck, I have to repeat senior year, and no college wants me!” I shouted angrily, hot tears filling the corners of my eyes, “Even worse, I’ve just been attacked by a grim reaper! How bad can my luck get?!”

“Worse than you think,” was his eerie reply, his pale eyes moving slowly to the road on my right.

I glanced over to where he was looking. The searing yellow glare of headlights bored into my vision, the screeching of brakes filling my ears, and suddenly a horrible pain throbbing on every part of my body.

Through the dark splotches of ink invading my sight, I saw him standing over me, his scythe glinting in the moonlight. “Sorry,” he mumbled as my vision clouded over.