Of course, it’s been forever since I have posted any type of teacher reflection on my blog. The cold, hard reality is that exhaustion or more planning, material making, etc wins the battle when I get home from work. However, tomorrow is the day I host a campfire and have my students share their urban legends. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a sucker for a good scary story, so I am really excited. In the spirit of scariness, I decided to write my own urban legend that I will share with the students tomorrow. Not sure if it will even phase them, but it’s worth a try. Even if they don’t like it, I hope you do.
P.S. I got a little inspiration from the legend of the “Click Clack Man.”
The Legend of the Cemetery Creature
Deep in the old cemetery on Grove Hollow Rd., the tombstones began to tremble and the groaning sounded from around one particular moss covered stone. It was happening again. The creature was a legend that had been passed down in Franklin County for generations, and It was coming to life.
Before our story can get underway, a little background is necessary. The legend all began when Old John was a little kid. He’d been playing, off in the woods, when he’d mistakenly happened upon an old cemetery. The very cemetery previously mentioned in our story. As any boy of his age would’ve been, he was curious. He cautiously walked toward the old, rusty gate and creaked it open. As Old John told his story, he described the environment around him as a suffocating, eerie silence except for one sound.
“Click, clack, click, clack.”
When he heard the noise, his alertness increased. ‘What could possibly be making that sound in an old graveyard?’ he thought. Weaving through tombstone after tombstone, Old John began to believe he was paranoid and losing his mind. That was, until he saw It. About thirty feet from him, peeking out from behind a tombstone with the words “R.I.P. Penelope” written on it, was a horribly disfigured creature. Its face looked gruesome as bits of flesh hung lower than they should. It had red irises around Its pupils and what was left of Its mouth was spread widely across its face in a startlingly, creepy grin. Its appeared to be crouching in a position ready to bolt toward him, but as It watched him, It hugged the tombstone It was waiting behind.
He watched Its mutated hands drum fingers on the concrete.
“Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack.”
He was paralyzed with fear. Should he bolt? Would It be fast enough to catch him. He blinked, and it was gone. Without waiting to see where it went, he darted out of the cemetery and didn’t stop running until he was banging on his front door to be let in. As he slipped in the front door, he looked behind him and swore he saw the creature panting angrily on all fours, lurking in the shadows, stalking back and forth in the wooded tree line.
Old John had sworn up and down for the decades that he’d lived in Rocky Mount, Va that his story was true. The folks of the county shrugged him off as a batty, old man, who spent too much time being lonely, in need of attention.
Fast forward to our present story. Years had passed and the wooded area that surrounded the old cemetery had long since been cleared. Houses had been built nearby, and the area started to grow in population. Lexie was 14 when her family moved into the house beside the old cemetery. Living in Rocky Mount for years, she had heard Old John’s spooky tale, but when she told her parents about her fears, they brushed them off.
After a long day, the school bus dropped Lexie off on a road close to her house, and she proceeded to make the long walk up her steep, unpaved driveway.
“Click, clack,” she heard, “click, clack.”
She paused in the middle of her path, and her eyes darted toward the cemetery. She could see nothing, so she continued along her way.
“Click, clack.”
A sharp, tingling feeling pierced her gut as she tried to tell herself it was nothing and continued. The door was only twenty feet away, and she didn’t want to stop walking.
“Click, clack. Click, clack.” She shrieked a little and paused when she swore she felt the drumming of fingers on her right shoulder.
She spun around to look at the decrepit cemetery; nothing. But as she was looking away, she caught a glimpse of something dark flashing out of her peripheral vision. When she turned to face her front door, her heart was pumping pure adrenaline. She didn’t want to waste another moment, so she ran the remaining distance to her door and shut herself inside, locking herself in.
Later that night, as she sat on her bed, texting her friends, she felt stupid. She was losing her mind just like Old John. The thought barely escaping her mind, she heard it.
“Click, clack.” Her heart skipped a beat.
There was silence and then, “click, clack.”
She didn’t speak, she didn’t curl up in a ball under her covers, she didn’t look around her room. She got up and opened her door, and there It was, crouched down on all fours with skeletal limbs that appeared to be draped in rotting flesh. The eyes were just as insane and the smile was just as creepy as Old John had described them. Her parents heard a blood-curdling scream, but when they rushed upstairs all they found was a badly mangled hand clutching a cell phone. Her mom was sobbing hysterically, as the Instagram photo smiled creepily and the scarlet eyes glared up at them. Lexie was never seen again.
Writing My Next Chapter 