Excellent A contest entry Ghostly nights. by aryr Ghost Story writing prompt entry

It was a dark and stormy night..... oh, wait that line has already been used over and over. So, to try something different. The low clouds hung over the sleepy town. A hint of a full moon peeked through, wanting so very much to illuminate the sky. In the distance, shards of lightning pierced the sky as thunder rumbled. It was rare and somewhat ironic that the full moon was present tonight, of all nights. October 31st, Halloween, All Saints Eve. Regardless of what you called it, the time was ripe for the unknown, for the unexpected. Tales of the undead floated through the mist that formed over the tombstones of the church graveyard. It is interesting that until two years ago, I did not really understand the difference between a graveyard and a cemetery. They both held the bodies of someone's loved one who was buried there. Now, however, I knew. A graveyard was associated to a church, in fact usually attached somewhat to a church. Whereas, a cemetery was a freestanding place of burial, a place of public demise. Last year at this time, I had two events that somewhat set my future. The first and, to me, the most important was that I met Fred. I know that the simple name Fred does not conjure romantic ideas, but he certainly does. And for the record his real name is Fredrick. The second event was my assignment to explore the reported events at the local graveyard. I received the assignment one year and one month ago and met Fred two days after the assignment. It seems that every year, at this time, strange events occur in the graveyard, yet never at the cemetery on the other side of town. There were tongue wagglings about someone being wrongfully buried there, or about the church itself being angry because a body that did not belong was laid to rest in peace. My job for the newspaper slash magazine company was to investigate, to research those placed there. Given that there were about five hundred grave sites, it was understandable and acceptable by my boss, that it might take a couple of years. I was assigned my very own photographer, you guessed it, Fred. I am so glad. The first week, we spent every minute in my office devising a plan of investigation. It was indeed a small office, but as lead reporter on the newspaper side and a major article writer for the magazine, it was better than being one of the many out there. The main room was filled with wall to wall desks, laptops and old-fashioned phones. Heck there were even six reporters that were considered part time and because of the shifts, shared two of the desks. The bonus working here was that the pay was considerably better than most of the major cities and getting time off was relatively easy. Even with this being a small scaled city, our boss believed in the principles of a good family existence, so we were one big happy family. Sorry, I got side-tracked. We decided that we would start at the back left-hand corner of the graveyard and photograph each tombstone. Written information would be included, then each site would be checked with the church record for the next of kin. We also felt it was important to attend any new funerals, collecting the same information. This was purely for keeping our records straight. The plan included a lot of leg work, which was fortunately mostly during the day. Because of our normal curiosity, we decided that we would also attend the graveyard for the three, monthly nights of the full moon cycle. Of course, if there was a blue moon we showed up for those three nights as well. Unfortunately, this idea did not occur to us until after last year's Halloween. I guess I should also mention that I still had other assignments and articles along the way, as did Fred. But we jointly agreed on this adventure. I was primarily the one that attended funerals, but we met every morning, Monday to Friday as a couple researching the sites. I, of course, did about 80% of the online searching for the next of kin. Fred did help tremendously when he wasn't involved with another photo shoot assignment. In the year that has passed, we had successfully covered fifteen funerals, had completed two thirds of the graves, as well as anything else assigned. It was the nights revolving around the full moons that were interesting. It gets dark around 7pm and dawn is around 6am, that leaves eleven hours, in a car, on a road in the graveyard. One can learn a lot about the other person. Did you know that there are twelve full moons each year and three to four blue moons, so that means approximately 495 hours of being together. Now granted, we were always alert for any strangeness, but that is still time together. Fortunately, the church was never locked, and we knew where the bathroom was. Our first job each night was to turn on the hall light and then turn it off come dawn. During that year, we had several occurrences with local teenagers wandering through. We openly explained we were reporters and politely asked their names. This usually resulted in a fast retreat, and of course we chuckled. There were times when the moon did not shine through and everything was coated in a heavy mist, but nothing happened. Many a time we both commented that we were extremely glad that we had each other for company. I guess after the first six months, we started sharing personal information. I had always considered myself to be average. I was five foot, five inches and the extra twenty pounds provided me with the extra curves and a status of being pleasantly plump. I was active, I exercised daily, and I did not eat extra, so it was just me and my ancestry. Fred on the other hand was six foot and slim, not skinny just slim. He could eat like a horse and never gain weight. Part of me truly envied him. Anyway, we talked about our likes, our dislikes, all sorts of things. Now it may be surprising to some, but we learned that we liked each other. In fact, we were developing a fondness that grew into love. We began dating and enjoying life outside of the realm of work. And with all of that said, it brings us to the present time. It was Halloween and we were once again preparing for an evening at the graveyard. This time there was a twist. It was our wedding that was in the preparation. We had come up with the idea on our one year anniversary of working together. Before we became too involved with the idea, we checked with the minister and he had no problem with us being married on that particular night. Then we announced our plan at work, to our families and friends. Everyone was thrilled at the idea of a unique wedding. Well, in reality, only two aspects were unique-one that it was Halloween and two it was in the graveyard. Everything else was normal for a wedding. The chairs were set up under a tent covering near the back door, which I would come out of with my father. The food was in a separate tent behind the church and the music was being provided by a local DJ-regular music, I might add. With so many people there, Fred and I, remained separated as was traditional for the bride and groom. He at least, got to mingle while he waited. It was just before 9 pm, it was time. My father and I walked down the short hall and out the door being held open by one of the ushers. I was beautiful in a slimming gown carrying creamy white roses that had had their centers colored in the darkest shade of purple. Both my father and I glowed with happiness. I will admit that he was dubious with the idea at first, but like most fathers, he caved. I am so glad. We entered the back of the tent covering and walked to the altar area between the two rows of chairs. It was everything a girl could dream of. When my father placed my hand in Fred's, he kissed my cheek and mouthed, 'I love you', before turning to his seat by my mother. Fred's mother was in tears and his father as gruff looking as ever. He truly had a heart of gold, but his appearance was that of a mean old man. The minister, Pastor Jacob, began the service. Just after Fred had said his vows, Pastor Jacob became silent and stood staring at the church. Fred and I turned our heads to follow his line of vision. Good golly, in all the time we had visited the graveyard, we had never seen a ghost and now there were six, no make that seven hovering by the door. Their dress was a combination of Victorian for the only woman, western as in cowboy and business attire for the men and a sensible suit for the young boy. As the guests turned, they gasped and immediately reached for cameras and cell phone. The seven remained steadfast. They were not aggressive nor threatening. The woman gestured for us to continue with her hand and the young boy nodded. It was obvious that none of them were going anywhere. So, we did just that. Pastor Jacobs voice cracked a little, but I managed my vows with a firm, non-wavering voice. We were pronounced after exchanging rings. By this time our guests had regained their enthusiasm, whistles, applause and cameras flashed. I turned to see what the seven were doing and saw them all waving goodbye and starting to fade. Just before the last wisp of their presence faded a note fell from the woman's hand. I looked at Fred to see if he had seen it happen. He smiled and nodded. I excused myself from the alter and ran to retrieve the note. I read over it as I stood there, then with tears in my eyes, I returned to the front of the gathering. I let Fred read it and then with his arm around my shoulders, I spoke. "What you have witnessed here tonight, is a miracle. Not the fact that Fred and I are now married, but because of the presence of the seven ghosts or spirits. What most of you did not see, was their departure and this note that was dropped. I would like to share with you what it says. And I would like to request that you send all the photos including negatives to us. They will not, sorry Mr. Ashner, be used in the newspaper or magazine. They will be a special memory to Fred and I. There will be a story, based on our year long vigilance, of our wedding and even of the ghosts. But it will be done without pictures." I watched as all heads nodded to my request. Then I read...... 'What a beautiful sight. A wedding here at our church. You see all of us were married here over the years on this day. Well not the young-un, he was born on this day. But there are some that just wouldn't have appeared as healthy as us, so we came to represent the many. This day was not always a holiday and was just a convenient day for us to say our -I do's. We started, as you say haunting here many years ago in search of our partners, knowing that some have moved away we, still needed closure. We knew that someone, someday would investigate and be of some help. Thank God it was you and Fred. Anything would be helpful. These are the names of the seven here. The others I will gladly point out to you on the next full moon. Child- William James Armstrong Cowboy 1- William (Billy) James Weston Cowboy 2- Peter (Petey) Phillips Cowboy 3- Arthur (Rusty) William Calhon Gentleman 1- James Arnold Whitman Gentleman 2- Heathcliff Madison Jones II We would all be most grateful for your assistance, we would then be able to rest in peace. Yours affectionately and sincerely, Mrs. Albert T. White (Arrabella)' She deliberately stopped before reading Mrs. White's first name. A couple of hands went up and she heard comments about hearing one of those names in their past. "Okay, we have all had a shock tonight. Let's continue our celebration in the food tent. This list of names will remain with me. Fred and I are going away for four days on our honeymoon and when we return I will start on the stories. A short one for the newspaper and a longer one for the magazine. Halloween will never ever be the same for any of us again. Let's eat, drink and be merry." What no one clued into because she had deliberately withheld one tiny bit of information was that she too was an Arrabella, but called Ary by all. Life would be interesting. Writing Prompt Write a Ghost Story. No limit on the word count. Author Notes Paul Featherstone thank you so much for the artwork-Graveyard.

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