It was a late night.
I was driving past the cemetery when I saw a boy standing in the rain. "Do you want a ride home?" I asked. "Yes please" mumbled the boy, slowly nodding his head. He got in the car then said "I live on Front street, next to the school." I looked over to him and gave him my old sweater. "It's cold tonight. And you are wet." I said. "You had better put this on."
After that, we did not talk. When we stopped at his house, I told him "Keep the sweater. I will get it tomorrow. What is your name?" "Jim." he said as he got out of the car and closed the door. Giving a nod, he said "Thanks for the ride."
The next day, I stopped by his house to get my sweater. When I knocked, a woman came to the door. "Is Jim at home?" I asked, removing my hat. "I have come to pick up my sweater." The woman gave me the strangest look and said "...It must have been another boy." after a pause she took a breath and said "Jim is our son. But he has been dead for a whole year. He's buried in the cemetery a few streets over." Noticing the tears in her eyes, I told her how sorry I was and hen left.
I didn't know what to think.
The next morning, I went to the cemetery to see his grave. And lying across his grave
Was my sweater.
YOU ARE READING
Stories to Tell in the Dark
HorrorFrom folk lore, to games, this is Stories to tell in the dark. A series of scary stories guaranteed to make you hide under your covers! This was the first book I made. I'm very proud and I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to read, favorite, and sho...