One Night in a Cemetery

I squinted through the rain and darkness. Though I didn't see him, I knew he wasn't far away. I was hiding in the cemetery and hoping my pursuer would have a difficult time locating me. My breath came in ragged quick gasps. My heart was still beating rapidly from the dash I'd made through the wrought iron gate.

A flash of lightning revealed my immediate surroundings. There was someone walking slowly, purposefully around the tombstones in my direction. It was time to start running again.

The crash of thunder blanketed the splash of my retreat over the soggy ground. I ran in a crouch, not wanting to be fully upright, trying to use the grave markers as cover. From one carved chunk of marble to another, I tried to put some distance between us.

I could sense him gaining on me although he never made a sound. An urgent need to flee finally overcame me and I bolted from my hiding spot like a startled rabbit. My long skirt slapped wetly against my legs as I ran toward the forest at the edge of the cemetery. I felt the mud ooze between my toes as my bare feet pounded the sodden earth. Briefly, I gave thanks that it was June and not February, or else I'd have been freezing.

I felt my pursuer drawing ever closer through the rain. Even though it was nearly pitch black, I knew the graveyard like the back of my hand. My feet knew where to step and when to leap over low tombstones. The woods grew closer with each squishy pace.

But before I could slip in among the rain dampened pines, a hand brushed against my back. I'd been caught, just like that.

I stopped right where I was and turned to face him. A faint flicker of lightning illuminated his skull-like face as he stood there grinning at me. He raised a skeletal thin hand and clapped it down on my shoulder.

"Tag! You're it!" he cried cheerfully, before turning and dashing off into the rainy night.