Macabre Waltz

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She decides to get out of the house. After three hours of various math assignments and the sound of her parents screaming below her, she agrees that now’s the time. She reaches the nearby cemetery, quickly slithering between the rusted gates. The trees beckoning. But she remains cautious. The moon above casts shadows, lurking among the bushes. She pulls her sweatshirt tightly around her as the wind dances around. And the trees dance, joining in the macabre waltz. The once midnight stroll turned macabre waltz. Trees, wind, moon all as one.
The trees deliver the sound of rattling bones to her ears. She rubs her eyes as dark figures come into view. Souls, spirits, ghosts. And they dance. They flail and sway around her, reaching with their lifeless hands, begging to continue the eternal ball. She wind picks up as the sinister forms creep closer. But she breaks out of the trance, running, trashing back to the unwelcoming gates. She crashes down onto the ground, her leg caught in a mesh of bone-white hands. And the wind dies down, but not before slowly opening the gates.





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