Kayla Gustafson

The Graveyard Keeper

An old, abandoned church stood high on the small hill at the edge of town. The moonlight overhead, clung to the edges of the large wooden frame, and cast down eerie shadows from the steeple, adding to the sinister aura of the decaying centuries old building. Shutters hung crooked from the boarded-up windows; some had fallen completely to the ground. The large, double church doors were boarded together, holding them shut in hopes of keeping kids like us out of the crumbling structure. The churchyard in front of the building hadn’t been kept up on in more than a decade. Weeds grew throughout and overgrown bushes had overtaken the wrought iron fence.