A Cold and Dirty Hand

October 16, 2017
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One warm summer night I decided to go out to my dad’s grave. He has been gone for a few months now. He died serving in the military. He was my best friend and I told him everything. I had made him a bracelet when I was younger that he never took off. Little did I know that I was going to see that bracelet again.

As I walked to his grave, I heard weird noises behind me. I took this path everyday since he passed away, but I’ve never heard these noises before. They almost sounded like whispering, like someone was following me. I decided not to look back because it was probably just my imagination.
I reached his grave five minutes later. The sounds were gone, but I was still a bit creeped out, or maybe even a little scared.
I started ‘talking to him’ when all of a sudden a cold hand pops out of his grave. Someone beneath me says to me: ‘Act normal until they are gone!’ I knew that it couldn’t be my dad. It was probably just a prank. When the hand grabbed my wrist, I saw the bracelet I made my dad around the wrist. It couldn’t be! But it was. That was my dad’s hand. Before I could make sense of everything, the hand was gone and a new one grabbed my shoulder.
 






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