by Olivia

The frozen blades of grass slide between my toes, sending a frigidity up my spine. Jack and I scurry through the graveyard in search of the conspicuous grave of Dear Johnny, the son of our mirthless principal who had died five years prior to this dreary fall midnight.

Kids of our humble town of Silver Springs, wonder constantly about the tragedy that struck Dear Johnny to death; tonight we planned to change that by reuniting with his ghost.

We search frantically to find one tombstone amongst thousands. Jack flashes his light across the field twice, the signal we had designated for the finding of the grave. I sprint towards him, and we begin digging fervently. “Dank” we hit the gold mine.

Jack looks over at me with a weary smirk. I nod and jump into the hole, quickly dusting the ancient dirt from atop the casket.

As I look up, I catch a glance of Jack, a reflection of blue lights up his face. Sirens begin to blare as my heart drops. We share a frantic glance.

“Dude, Im sorry I gotta go!” Jack exclaims as he begins to run amongst the vog, steering clear of the lawmen. Baffled beyond explanation, I am incapable of speaking. My mind becomes foggy as my goals, which seemed so close, become a new sense of fantasy.
Right out of high school, drafted to UCLA as a baseball star, my life goal, finally achieved, and now, everything was over. Thrown away like nothing more than a withered shoe.

I stand frozen next to the casket of Dear Johnny as police order me to raise my hands.

“Sorry,” I say a word lacking any sense of significance. No sense of regret or offer of escape.