Why Won’t You Join Us? by Andrew Rozek
I yawned, eyes trained on the dark road in front of me, illuminated only by the brights of my car. My eyes felt heavy, fatigue begging to draw them closed, but I still had business to tend to before I could get home and shut off for the day. Luckily, my stop was just ahead. Turning on my blinker, I pulled my car to the side of the road. Taking the key out of the ignition, my brights went dark, and I was left with just the light of the moon to guide me into the Leon Hill Cemetery. My daily visit to the cemetery after work had recently become a tradition of mine. Call me morbid or even obsessed, but there’s someone I like to visit on the regular here. Unfortunately, however, I was forced to work overtime today, so tonight’s visit felt hardly as enjoyable as it could have been, what with the lethargy plaguing my limbs. Truly, as much as I just wanted to get home, as much as I tried to tear myself away from the small detour I took on my way into town to get here, I couldn’t force myself to skip tonight’s visit. With aching legs and tired eyes, I climbed the hill that gave the cemetery its name, somewhat fascinated by tonight’s full moon. I had only been making these visits for the past three weeks or so, making this the first night where I had the glory of a full moon to guide me up the steep incline that shielded the graves from the road’s view. If only it could always stay this way; it’s much easier to see where I’m going in the dark when there’s this much moonlight. And while there was a lot of moonlight shining upon the grass, I didn’t expect to find so many other lights within the cemetery at this time of night. I stood at the top of the hill, my knees locking as I stared down at the graves below. Not only were there pale, white lights arranged perfectly in a circle, those lights made up human figures. These weren’t just lights, they were people. People holding hands and dancing around the graves, singing some horrid, otherworldly song that only now just registered in my brain. Instinct told me I should have been scared. I should have turned and ran a long time ago. But I knew, deep down, my body wasn’t tense with fear. It was tense with excitement. Getting lower to the ground, I started to inch my way down the hill slowly, aiming to end up behind a tree fairly close to the pale shadows of people. I didn’t wanna give myself away too quickly, if ever; there was no saying how they’d react to me walking in on their activities, and while I was excited to observe all of them, there was only one person I was truly looking for.