" The Secret of Greenwood Cemetery "

As a kid I collected frogs and snakes, I flew kites and got into everything I wasn't supposed too. Like most boys I would attach a popcicle stick or balloon to my bike enjoying that cool sound as it clanked against the spokes. A 10 year old adolescent, my creativeness was accomplished by using my exaggerative imagination. I could create the sort of things only other 10 year old kids could see. They appreciated what I generated. Inventing awesome blunders that adults felt were fictions of my foolish imagination. That is were this story begins. It's true and being shared with you by one of the boys who lived it. Many years have passed since the events took place, yet its memory is embedded forever in my mind. Fear never leaves one unchanged and has away of creeping back from its dark burial ground. That subconscious state of terror that is unearthed after having your worst nightmare, never fades completely.

Blaine, was my best friend at Marsh Grade School. His crude ways were something else, yet without exception his younger brother Bobby had him beat. Whenever I would spend the night at their house Blaine and I would go crazy as Bobby started this weird ritual of rocking himself to sleep. It wasn't really a rocking motion, it was more like a forceful pounding of his head against the headboard. We figured he really hadn't went to sleep but instead had knocked himself unconscious.

They lived in a small, comfortable house on Elm Street. It was located very close to Greenwood Cemetery. His Dad was the owner of a carpet store on the north end of Franklin Street. I guess you could call them the average mid-50's household. Husband, Wife and two kids. Sort of like the "ClEAVER's" on TV's "Leave it to Beaver." You know Ward, June, Wally and ofcourse the Beave. I'd be more like EDDIE HASKELL, Wally's friend in the episode. Blaine and I liked adventure and we played in the cemetery quite often. People didn't take walks or jog there in those days. It was a place of slient traquility....except when Blaine and I were there. We would explore everything, leaving the cemetery residents slightly worried about our future. There were headstones to look at and freshly dug graves to view, we even jumped into one pretending it was a foxhole. The most interesting but feared, were the CRYPTS. Large slient structures made of pale stone. "DRACULA LIVES HERE", they would echo as we passed. Both of us knew that when darkness came we had better be on Elm Street in the safety of Blaine's home.Watching SPOOK MOVIES was very popular among young kids. FRANKENSTEIN, WOLFMAN, THE MUMMY and DRACULA, feared by all 10 year olds. Every kid at school knew they were real, always searching for fresh victims. They would rip you from limb to limb or suck your blood from freshly punctured viens. Rumor had it that kids were their first choice when dining out. No matter what that wasn't the way Blaine or I intended to go. We always carried a sharp stick with us whenever we ventured into the cemetery, just in case.

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Revised Oct. 12, 2015