Cursed through the Ages

On a cold autumn night in a small town outside of Bristol, a young man no older than 22 was thrown out of the local tavern. The man, weary with drink trudged through the town towards his cottage by the river. The cobblestone path seemed to slant as the young man stumbled through the dark street. All the houses were dark, the oil lamp were dim and a light fog was starting to roll in. He made his to the outskirts of the town and stopped just before the main bridge. Usually the man would cross the bridge and take the long route, down a dirt path to reach his house. Yet on this night the man was so utterly exhausted, he decided that he would take the shorter route through the cemetery. He turned and walked back to the cemetery gates and pulled them open just enough so that his slender frame could slip through the dark and forbidding gates. As he walked past the statues and grave stones, the wind began to moan and pushed the clouds over the moon so that its comforting light disappeared and all there was, was darkness. The fog which had gotten thicker, seemed to create finger that clawed at the young, frightened man. He began to think that at any moment the devil himself would suddenly appear to take him down into the depths of hell. So the young man beside himself with fear, took off across the cemetery, running madly until he tripped and fell cracking his skull on a stray rock. There the young man lay, bleeding until death claimed him.

75 years later, almost to the day, the small town busied itself with the usual activities. The stores were full of customers, the paved streets full of cars and the schools swarming with children. The town hall clock struck three and the Benoir Private School let its pupils out for the weekend. Abigail Kernway walked briskly down the sidewalk trying to avoid anyone and anything that might slow her down. Her blond curls bounced a she headed towards the wooden bridge that lead to the other side of town. The wind blew and Abigail was glad her school's burgundy sweater was warm. Her plaid skirt stopped just above her knees and her clean white socks stopped just below them. Abigail's white collar came out at the sweater's neck-line and her curls were pinned back from her face with two silver barrettes. She was thin and would have been very pretty if not for the look of worry on her face.

"Where ya goin' Abigail?"

Abigail stopped and looked sideways to see her old friends coming towards her. Abigail tried to speed up but they were faster. They surrounded her and the ginger-haired girl who spoke before grabbed Abigail by the wrist squeezing hand causing Abigail to wince and the group to snicker.

"I asked you a question Abby. Are you going to answer? Or has that dumb school messed up your head too much?" She sneered.

Her name was Bekka Porter. She and Abigail had spent a lot of years with each other, playing and having fun but when Abigail had been asked to go to Benoir Private School because of how smart she was, Bekka turned poisoness towards her. She excluded Abigail for everything and turned her old friends against her. Once Abigail was inside the school she was free, but once outside…

"Abby!" Bekka growled, digging her nails into Abigail's wrist.

Abigail's big blue eyes welled up with tear as she broke away from Bekka and the group and tore down the street. They chased after her and drove her into the cemetery. The sky was getting darker and the wind pick up and began to cry. The trees and statues cast shadows all around her making her feel as if Bekka and the other were getting close, so she took of running again. As Abigail stole a glance back to see if anyone was coming she tripped over a small grave stone. She held out her hands to break the fall and narrowly missed smacking her head on a rock. Abigail scrambled to her feet ant started running once again. She franticly searched for a place to hide, when she saw an open crypt. Abigail started towards the crypt then hesitated, wondering if she should invade on someone's grave. Yet when the wind blew the sounds of voices to her ear, Abigail slipped through the open door. The stench was awful, yet Abigail bared it. Using her back pack, which she had thankfully not lost running, wiped away some cobwebs, so she could sit down. Abigail wondered how long she would have to wait till Bekka and the other went home, as the heavy crypt door silently closed and locked. As the air around her thinned, Abigail pray that Bekka would not find her and she got her wish. Abigail was never seen again.

The small town flourished and became a large city in the 75 years after Abigail's death. A huge plastic dome was built around the city like many others, to keep out trivial weather suck as wind and rain, which would be let in weekly so nothing got too dry. Typical for a day in 2080, hover cars and bikes zoomed in and out of traffic, shoppers walk to and from store in flashy silver clothes and kids ran this way and that playing with each other. A small group of teens were hang out at an old abandoned store laughing an talking amongst themselves. They stopped as a girl crossed the street to join them.

"There Davio. I finished my dare. You should have seen the look on his face when I screamed. That mouse gag was the best!" the girl giggled.

She had freshly dyed bubble-gum pink hair in a short bob, spiked up in ever other spot. She wore a silver skirt and a bronze and blue blouse, with a big pair of silver boots.

" Good Talmay. It is my turn now. So what is my dare?"

The friends talked it over the one went into the abandoned store and came out with red spray paint. Davio's dare was to spray paint the word " Armageddon" on the old crypt wall in the old run down cemetery. They walked Davio to the cemetery gates and watched Davio's long black hair float behind him in the breeze.

"Odd. The dome protects us from wind," Talmay thought. The gang stood by the gates

for a couple minutes then walked back to the store, none of them realizing that that was

the last time they would ever see their friend.