The Cemetery by the Lake (a short story- Stories from Colony Drive, #1)

Full story available for FREE on Smashwords.

The Cemetery by the Lake

Dry grass and autumn leaves crunched under her pink and gray L.A. Gear sneakers as she crossed over into the clearing. She beheld the scene in front of her, feeling a quickened pounding in her chest. Remains of a small, long abandoned graveyard were smothered by tangled, overgrown weeds, the worn tombstones serving as final epitaphs for the long time deceased buried inside the soil. Beyond the cemetery’s edge stretched a massive lake with the thick forest continuing near the bank on the other side.

‘I should go back,’ she thought, but felt an urge to move forward.

A glance at her watch assured her of the hour she had left before needing to head back to the townhouse.

She made her way into the unkempt graveyard, weaving as best she could through the short rows of weather worn stones, and feeling as though she were crossing over some kind of threshold. Finally, she approached the lake’s shore, standing on the bank and studying its perimeters, wondering how long a hike around would take.

She looked ahead to the other side and saw a blue light flicker in the distant trees. An urge to run away jolted her, but her feet rebelled and started her around the lake.

The body of water was even greater in size than it originally appeared. She looked over to the western horizon. Twilight had set in, and this was not the ideal place to be after dark, she imagined. A hike at this moment was not the most practical of ideas. Not now.

She glanced down at her Garfield watch, and was shocked to see the hands on the clock’s face frozen in the same time they were at the start of her trek into the cemetery. It was brand new and she had just received it for her birthday. How could it already be dead?

Her nerve endings prickled, sending out a warning that she was not alone. The evening breeze blew around her, carrying with it what sounded like horse hooves trotting on a dirt road.

She turned her eyes back up toward the opposite end of the lake and gasped. A figure stood facing her only a short distance away. The evening shadows masked its face, but a searing gaze burned into her core. Her body was paralyzed, her feet planted to where she stood. A light breeze tousled her hair and carried a whispering of her name.

As a mist began to rise on the lake, the figure moved toward her…

*****

The dream always ended there.

Jane stared out to the road ahead as she drove through the lush, green foliage that blanketed the Appalachian Mountains. Spring had unleashed itself throughout Northeastern Pennsylvania with the forests growing in thick. A drive into the Poconos was enough to give one a feeling of ascending to the heavens. It was a journey that—over the passed three years—she had taken often.

Her nineteen years bore a lingering incompleteness that started with her adoption as an infant. While her parents had done their best to ensure her comfort and security, Jane never felt she truly belonged.

Throughout elementary school and into high school, she did have a few close friends—some of whom she still maintained contact with—and her name could regularly be seen among those listed on the Honor Roll. Upon graduation, she attended King’s College, excelling in her first year as a major in English-Professional Writing. Shortly following the start of fall semester, she had met a young man named Craig at an art exhibit held at the Wilkes Sordoni Art Gallery. Jane had been studying a new painting by a local artist when he came and stood beside her. Small discussion of the painting led to them browsing the rest of the gallery together. During that time, she learned that he was a student at Wilkes University and studying for his Masters in Creative Writing.