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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1678612-Pranking-the-new-kid
Rated: 13+ · Other · Horror/Scary · #1678612
A story of a Prank gone wrong.
It was only supposed to be an innocent prank. Something kids do to each other all the time. Living in a small town, there's not much for the young ones to do.
When a new kid comes into town, It's almost like the town's children celebrate. They get to play a new prank. The adults in town don't say much about it. The prank is never that terrible. Usually they stuff a locker with feathers or make farting sounds when the kid walks by. But after they always let the new kid in on the joke and laugh it up.

Not this time.

Benny Miller was the new kid. His mother brought him to town after his father passed away. She says she just could not stand to live where he died. To many things to remind her of her husband.

ON the first day of school that Benny attended, he was approached by Mark Hampson. Mark and Terry Bilmore were always the main planners in the initiative prank. Mark told Benny that in order to fit in with all the cool kids in the school he would have to pass a little test. "Everyone has done it" he said "It's really not that hard"
At first Benny was hesitant, but brightened up to the idea of making new friends.

Mark and Terry came up with an idea to have Benny stand in the old cemertary on the far side of town. "There's a old legend about the town founder. He raises from the grave once a month on the full moon just to see how his town is doing." They told Benny. "He never leaves the graveyard and he's very friendly. Actually Steve Burns had a nice chat with him when he did the initiation."
Benny reluntantly agreed to do it.

Now the full moon was a few days away so Mark and Terry had to come up with a good way to scare Benny but not to bad. They decided that Mark would lead Benny into the middle of the cemetary and leave him. Terry would hide behind one of the big statues dressed in a white sheet. Nothing to scary. Just jump out at him then have a laugh.

On the night of the full moon Benny and Mark made their way to the cemetary.
Benny was scared. Mark could see that. They stood in the middle of the cemetary for a good twenty minutes before Mark said he had to take a leak and left Benny for a few minutes.

Mark disappeared into the shadows and met with Terry behind the statue. Terry threw the white sheet over his head and prepared to jump out at Benny.
Just before he leapt out they heard Benny scream. It was bloodcurtling and echoed through the otherwise silent night.
Mark and Terry ran out to see what Benny could be screaming at.
They saw him on the ground in the fetal positon, hands covering his face curled up against and aging tombstone.
At first the boys did not see what scared Benny so much, then as the moon passed out from behind a cloud they could see.
It was black blob floating about three feet above the ground.
It seemed to have a long arm reaching out to Benny as he lay on the earth.
It had a slight green glow to it, that lit up Benny and the ground around him.

Both boys froze in place with their mouths hanging open. The blob turned towards them and they could make out a face. It had no major definition to it but two eyes that glowed with the same green tint.

Benny took his hands away from his face and saw the other two boys.
He jumped to his feet and ran towards them. As he ran by them, the two of them snapped out of their trance and turned and ran with him.
Mark took a quick look over his shoulder and could swear he saw the floating figure facing them. It was still in the same spot and it seemed to have a sad look about it. The green tint changed to a light blue and the eyes filled with a sadness that Mark had not seen before.

The three boys all ran straight home without saying anything to each other.
None of them slept the rest of that night.
The next day at school there were no words spoken of what happened in the cemetary.
Eventually the three boys became very good friends, but they never played any more pranks on the new kids at school.
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