The day was sunny and beautiful. Completely flawless. It was perfect when I heard that my friend Kayla told me she wanted to go biking.

“Around Two?” she asked towards the end of her invitation.
“Sure, should I come to you?” I asked, already seeing her on her bike a little distance away. My momentum was keeping moving toward her.

Eventually she saw me and we circled each other. We pedaled off, the details of my journey blurred by how fast we were both moving. We didn’t lose speed, the land was flat. The momentum just kept building up. We didn’t even to pedal anymore we could just coast and be going just as fast.

Soon enough, our speed did give way as we slowed to stop at the base of this large hill. I felt excitement rush over me as I thought about how fast I would be going once I crested that hilltop.

“C’mon. c’mon c’mon.” I rushed Kayla to follow me, but she became complacent over how difficult pedaling became. I didn’t blame her for that, it was extremely difficult starting off – but eventually we were moving at a fair pace up this hill.

Then perfection was tampered with. The hill path, now replaced with concrete roads, was now more civilized than sunny and natural. Street lights were now being noticed as they lined the road. The sun, once a beautifully shining and illuminating the horizon in verdant color, now was rapidly setting. Nightfall was consuming our surroundings. The only lights giving us vision was the industrial orange lighting of the street lights, of which were fading to on more and more as the day turned to dusk turned to night. The night was fully upon us and at its darkest as we stopped at the apex of the hill finally.

The sight we saw was one out of a horror film – however, much the sunny day that past, was perfect. This massive cemetery, half gated off with the main gate opened, stood in front of us. Clouds darker than the night sky itself shifted, revealing the full moon. The pearly moonbeams thus lit the shadowy and misty graveyard.

“Creeped out?” I asked Kayla.
“Actually no. Just worried about how we’re getting home.”
“I know a short cut through the graveyard.”
“Really?” Doubt bursting from the question.
“Yeah. It’s on the other side.” I then described the short cut and how it swings out of here and on to the main road.