Walk Through the Graveyard

It was Halloween, and I was 22 years old. My good friend, Ellie, was with a boy I went to high school with, Bart. Bart’s family owned a cemetery and Ellie and Bart lived in the caretaker’s house on the grounds. Ellie decided to host a Halloween party at her house on Halloween night.

The man I was dating at the time was very open-minded to spiritual things, and he was also very manly and strong. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to the party, I thought having a party in a cemetery was creepy. Plus, my high school sweetheart had died a couple of years prior in an accident, and he was buried in that cemetery. But my boyfriend wanted to go, and he encouraged me not to be afraid, and I liked the fact that he would be there with me. So, we went to the party.

We were all partying and listening to music. Bart had a pool table, so I was having fun playing pool. Ellie had the idea to walk through the cemetery at midnight. It seemed harmless, so everyone agreed. We got a couple of flashlights and went out into the night. We walked on the road that winded through the gravestones, and we linked arms and walked in two groups. At first, we were joking and laughing, but it seemed that the quiet around us was an actual presence, and it demanded our attention. As a group, we started getting a little frightened. The darkness and quiet pressed in on us, and we were still, our steps getting smaller and slower. We reached a turn in the road, and we were looking over the cemetery, the headstones glowing gently in the dim light. My friend, Ellie, asked if I wanted her to call the name of my dead sweetheart three times to see if he would appear. Several people screeched and ran back toward the house. My boyfriend wanted her to do it – he was more curious than afraid. I felt sick. I told her no, firmly. I felt so sorry that my sweetheart was there, in that place. We didn’t say anything about turning back, we just started walking back to the house, the shadows and bare branches seeming to reach for us. As we walked, I wondered if we would hear something or see someone, a ghost or spectre or spirit. In that dark place of the dead, I did feel something I can only describe as a ‘pressure’ from the residents there. I felt like they wanted me to know this place was not just empty grass dotted with stones, but it was theirs, and they were there. I felt fear and reverence for them. My heart was pounding as we closed in on the house and I managed not to run to it. When we burst inside, the lights and decorations seemed unholy, garish and too bright. I left soon after, and made my boyfriend drive for awhile in the night, windows down, hoping the wind would wash away the strange heaviness from the walk in the graveyard.

moonlit walk between
gravestones, the dead all around,
silence a presence

Sorry, I know this is long, but I wanted to tell my story. Thank you.

Haibun Monday 10-27-25: Halloween