|The dead don’t always stay dead (standard:Ghost stories, 1297 words)|
|Author: Kirkie||Added: Nov 06 2004||Views/Reads: 2067/1270||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|This is a true story. It did happen to my village many years ago, when I was very young and I believed that things do happen and nobody knew the answer to everything! I’ve also knew the ‘victim’ a young boy of 13, who lived a few houses further down my|
The dead don't always stay dead! This is a true story. It did happen to my village many years ago, when I was very young and I believed that things do happen and nobody knew the answer to everything! I've also knew the ‘victim' a young boy of 13, who lived a few houses further down my road, if you could call that path we used to take everyday to and from school, with today's standards, a ‘road'. Only a few years older than me, he used to ignore me, like I was invisible, every time he saw me at school or outside playing. I guess it was a normal behaviour for boys of that age, older kids who avoid the young ones like the plague, especially younger girls, as they had a reputation to protect and mates who wouldn't forget and forgive. Nevertheless, I knew him well as I knew most of the residents of our small village. We lived in a rather isolated area and our village was rather small and unknown until of course the ‘incident' took place and our village became the talk of the island for many years to come. I remember it well when it started, a few days later after the ‘funeral' of a very old neighbour who died all alone in his sleep. Everybody was discussing it for days, old and young. He had been dead for more than two days before he was discovered on his bed by one of the neighbours who came looking for him as he hadn't t been seen anywhere. He lived all alone since his two sons left for the city and his wife had died a few years before. The neighbours used to take pity on him and brought him food and kept an eye as he was very old and not well since the death of his wife. Nobody knew where his two sons were so the village took responsibility for the funeral as everybody felt sorry for the old man. Everybody except from us, as we didn't really like him because he always seemed mean and he used to shout at us every time he saw us outside playing or even walking for that matter. I guess he was bitter because his own kids deserted him. So when he died and after he was buried we still didn't believe that he has gone, we thought that the old man was still around, perhaps as a ghost, just waiting to take revenge on us... So a couple of days later after the funeral, a late evening, we were all gathered in somebody's porch, when one the older children started telling ghost stories, trying, as usual to scary us (the younger ones). Telling stories was one of evenings entertainment those days as it was too dark to play and no TV was available (too expensive those days). One of the popular stories, that was often mentioned, was about our old cemetery, which it was older than the village itself and it had a very bad reputation. Many rumours were going around; speculating on what it was going on there in the dark hours and nobody believed that they were just old folks' tales... So that particular night, as it was expected, the recent death of the old man was mentioned and that perhaps his ghost was already wondering in that old cemetery at night. It was at that point, the boy, who always ignored me and who was one of the older members of our group, spoke up for the first time and told us, being half serious and half joking, that he didn't believe any of those old stories. He declared, with a very serious tone of voice, that he wasn't afraid of any old creepy cemetery, day or night and he was going to prove to us that there was nothing ‘supernatural' going on at that place. ‘Dead are staying dead' he told us. Nobody of course thought that he was being serious but he insisted that he meant what he said and he intended to prove us all wrong. He was planning to go there the following night on his own and as a proof he was going to leave his knife at the old man's grave for us to find the following morning if we were brave enough to go there during the day of course... We didn't believe him. Nobody on his right mind would even think to go to that ‘cursed' place on their own after sunset. Nobody, young or old was that stupid to visit that place at night... Still, to prove him wrong we agreed to go ourselves the morning after to look for his knife, as we believed that it would be safe (safety in numbers) to go when the sun was out. The following day everybody was anxious for the night and then the morning to come so we could finally visit that creepy place and prove to our friend that we weren't afraid after all. Well, not during the Click here to read the rest of this story (43 more lines)
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