It was a hot summer day. The sky above was as visible as it has ever been; you could not spot a cloud from miles around. There I laid, adjacent from my sister, Lacy, in the shimmering grass foundering about which path I should take. There was a plethora of decisions to take into consideration. This one choice could alter my entire life, forever.

I finally made up my mind; I was going to do it, no matter how much trouble I would get myself into. I am going to run away from home tonight, with my friend, Graham.

I quietly crept up the stairs into my bedroom trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. After I leaped over the last few stairs, I quickly rushed into my bedroom and gathered everything I thought I would need to make it to Graham’s house successfully. I accumulated extra clothing, water, and a forest green, antique Rugby knife my grandmother had given to me before she had passed away two years ago. I gently tip-toed down the stairway, carrying a cumbersome bag on my back, looking every direction for a sight of my family.

As I approached the door and unlimited amount of thoughts ran through my head. Is this the right decision? Should I do this? I had a handful of questions with no answers, so I decided to do what I was always taught to do; follow my heart rather than my mind. With that said, I continued out the door without any worries.

It was almost midnight when I was one quarter of a mile away from Graham’s house. The sky that was once luminous, was now pitch black and all that I was capable of seeing was small stars, the pure white moon, and my old, rugged map. I had never been so frightened in years. It seemed as if I was being stalked. I slowly slipped my pocket knife out of the side of my bag trembling with fear. I carefully scanned my surroundings, searching for somebody trailing me. A fragile kitten rapidly ran out of the bushes and across the road. Relived I refocused my vision back toward my map. I was almost at my destination with only a couple of minutes to scarface.

As I arrived at the end of Graham’s driveway, he was sitting by his mailbox tapping his foot, impatiently waiting. I have never seen him so paranoid; he looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“What took you so long?” Graham questioned starring awkwardly straight into my light blue eyes.

“It is not as simple as you think,” I replied. “I had to take the worn down back roads.”

“Well we better hit the road if you want to arrive in time,” Graham commanded.

“Where are we heading anyways?” I asked.

“Up north, toward the abandoned church on Berry’s Mountain road,” he said.

If my facts are precise, the ancient legend has it that Berry’s Mountain church is cursed with demon spirits that come alive and active during midnight trying to possess lonely, unfortunate souls that set foot on their territory. True or not I was ready to begin our journey, and get out of this dreaded ghost town.
To be continued…