"Once upon a time in a land far, far away..." George started writing on the first blank page of his notebook.
"No, no, no. It's so bad, so mainstream, so overused." He said to himself and started scratching his head.
"I need to find something new, unique in any way. I want to be a great writer too, and to be remembered for what I wrote." George said while fidgeting his pen in the air. He thought about all the things he could to make this book stand out, to make it different. After some time an idea popped into his head. George picked up his phone from his bed and dialed his friend.
"Come on pick up. Pick up, pick up!" he kept babbling until his friend eventually answered.
"Hey J, I got the best idea ever for tonight," George said before Jacob could even say hi. He explained his plan to Jacob in detail. The plan was that the two of them picked up some stuff and went to the graveyard for the night. Once they arrive they would stay there and document if anything unusual happens. Halloween was getting close and spirits were still outside, and where can you find the most spirits on a week of Halloween.
"Okay fine, but just so you know you're one crazy writer, and if anything happens it's all your fault," said Jacob and hung up.
Some time has passed and the sun started to set. George and Jacob met at George's house and continued towards the graveyard.
"Don't you think something bad will happen? I have an awful feeling about this." Said Jacob silently.
"We are going to have fun, J, don't worry. What you think them dead people are gonna come to life and chase us? Don't be a child." George tried to reassure his friend. Two of them kept walking, joking, and trying to break the ice.
"Look, J, the gate is there. This will be so fun!" George exclaimed.
"Remind me again; why are we doing this. What type of book or whatever are you trying to write?" asked Jacob.
"Well, I want to get some inspiration from all of this, you know. I want to present to people the tranquility of this moment. Maybe even tell my readers if anything extraordinary happens." Explained George. "Let's not waste any time and get in." He continued.
The main gate was mossy and old. Built from huge, cold stones with an iron arch above. It said: "Blackburn Cemetery.". Two friends kept going deeper and deeper. On each side were huge busts, ancient gravestones, and in the distance, an old church dominated the skyline. The night was bright, with a full moon illuminating the whole town.
"It's so peaceful here." Said Jacob.
"Mesmerizing." George corrected him.
"Yes, I know you're a writer and all, but can you be cool for just a moment," Jacob said, mildly annoyed.
They kept walking for a minute or so; when George said: "Look, let's go sit under that tree. The view must be amazing from there."
Two of them went up the hill and sat under the old tree. Jacob took his phone out and started checking his social media. He tried making some pictures, but he soon realized his camera wasn't as good as he thought. Meanwhile, George started writing about the beauty of the cold October night. In the beginning, he wanted to write something scary, something with ghosts, spirits, witches, and demons; but the prepossessing sight swiftly took all his plans out of his mind. He got lost in describing every single thing he saw, the moon, every little cloud, orange leaves covering the green grass, and him and his friend sitting and enjoying it all.
"George, did you hear that?" Jacob asked, pointing down the hill.
"Relax, buddy, no ones there. It's 2 AM. No ones crazy enough to at the cemetery at this time." George said reassuringly.
"There's that crunchy noise again," Jacob's voice cracked.
Just then, a short figure approached the two of them. It was a short man with a hood over his head and a long grey scruffy beard. He carried a flashlight and a small shovel in his hands.
"I know you expected ghosts, but this made me wet my boxers! Are you happy now?" Jacob panicked and started running away.
"Wait for me!" George yelled and started running behind his friend, leaving his notebook in the dust.
They ran down the hill, trying to keep the balance and not stumble over. A mere seconds later, Jacob fell and rolled to the foot of the hill. George helped him up, and two guys paced around the graveyard, trying to find the exit. Thankfully, the old man was nowhere to be seen. They stopped for a second to catch their breaths and plan how to escape.
"What shall we do now, George? I knew something bad would happen." Jacob whined.
"Don't worry, J, we'll figure something out. We must! Let's watch our steps and stay close, okay?" George said. "Did you see my notebook by any chance? I've no idea where I left it, and I had so many good things written in it." he continued.
"No, sorry. That mad man probably has it. And I'm not coming back to check, no way." Jacob said loudly.
The crunchy noise got louder and louder, and the boys panicked again. The old man was getting close, and this time he wasn't alone.
"Get the hell out of my graveyard, you pipsqueaks," He hollered. "Or my dog will have a nice meal. Old Rexy had a very light dinner." The old man continued.
Boys were terrified at this point, and they started running as fast as they could.
"There's the exit, Jacob! We just have to jump over that fence!" George yelled.
The boys rushed towards the old iron fence and jumped over at the same time. But they didn't find what they had expected. Behind the fence were two ditches, each nine feet deep. George and Jacob both fell directly inside, and just as they landed, the fence collapsed over them. Frightened, the boys started yelling for help, but there was no answer. A few minutes later, they heard leaves cracking, and eventually, the old man and his dog found them.
"That's what you get when you mess with me and my graveyard. I'll leave you two rascals to whatever you were doing. Oh, and also, I think you forgot this. Let's go Rexy," The old man tossed George's book into one of the ditches and left with his dog.
The book ended up in Jacob's ditch, and he started going through it, reading everything his friend had written about that night.
"Jacob, please don't read that. It's really embarrassing," said George.
The night is young/
Stars twinkle at two mates/
Two soul mates/
"George? Did you write this about us?" Jacob asked, but he got no answer in return.
He started digging and digging, towards his friend. Reaching through the dirt and stone, worms and sand, and who knows what else. Finally, he reached the other ditch and looked at his friend.
"Man. That's beautiful. I really didn't know you were such a good poet. I loved reading every single sentence you wrote." Jacob said and reached towards his friend's hand.
"I guess this is it. I doubt anyone will help us. That guy seemed pretty pissed," Said George, squeezing Jacob's hand tighter.
"I have to tell you. As beautiful as your poetry is, it would never work out. I don't feel the same, but I'll always be your friend, in good and in bad. And I don't think it can get worse than this," Jacob chuckled.
Sun started rising, and birds began chirping, and it looked like all of their troubles were behind them. A police siren could be heard in the distance, and it seemed it was approaching.
"We really fucked it up, didn't we," said George
"Big-time," Jacob confirmed.
"See you in a few months, I guess," Said George.
"I'll see you, my friend. And you better publish that poetry you've been writing," Jacob said.