The Blind Fury
I grew up in a small town in the southern part of Ohio. In that small town we had a cemetery located right next the city's swimming pool, park, and baseball diamonds. 
That cemetery was known for strange occurrences such as rain falling only where a person who was visiting a grave or mauseleum happened to be and nowhere else, or a thick fog that would seemingly come out of nowhere and disappear after a short period of time. I never read too much into these stories as I was a teenager at the time and figured the stories were just made up to scare us. 

I had just moved back to my hometown after three years of living with my father about an hour and a half away (around 90 miles, depending on how fast you drive.) It was a few weeks after Halloween when I arrived back home. I made it a point to seek out and reunite with a very good friend of mine since childhood. For this story we'll call her "C." 

C and I did the usual catching up on each other's lives since we'd been separated. After awhile it got late. We decided to go smoke a joint (We were teenagers!) and decided to drive through the cemetery out past the ball park, since our chance of running into anyone at that time of night was slim to none. 

We arrived at the cemetery and started driving through it slowly, as a heavy fog had started to sweep through it where we had entered. We hadn't gone very far before I spotted what looked like a white car sitting on top of some gravestones, one of the gravestones being knocked halfway out of the ground, dirt scattered all around the gravestone where the car had driven forcefully into it. 

C and I couldn't believe our eyes. She wanted me to get out and look inside the vehicle to see if someone was inside that could  possibly be hurt. Or worse. I, on the other hand, was none to eager to see a mangled, bloody corpse. We argued for a few minutes about who was going to get out and check. In the end, I said I would do it because I reasoned that we couldn't just leave someone injured in the car without trying to help. 

I got into her glove compartment and grabbed the flashlight that she said she kept in it for emergencies and got out of the car, walking slowly towards the car and shining the light into it, praying to God that I didn't see something that would scar me for life. After a mini pep talk in my head, I finally stepped up to where I could see into the car. And thankfully, I found nothing. Not even blood. I was incredibly relieved but at the same time curious as to where the driver and possible passengers could be, how this had happened, WHY it had happened.

I returned to C's car and informed her the car was empty. After she took a look into the car to see for herself (NOW she'll look inside it!) that no one was inside, we took off and called the police to report what we had seen. 

The police inquired as to what we were doing in the cemetery at that time of night and C and I gave them a lame excuse that I don't remember and I'm sure that they didn't buy. They took our phone numbers and addresses and we had to go to the police station to make out a report on what we saw. 

We found out later that the vehicle had been reported as stolen. The police guessed that someone had been under the influence of either drugs, alcohol, or both of the above and had taken off after the accident because they would've already been in trouble for stealing a car and driving it impaired - and whatever other mischief they'd been into. It's safe to say that we stayed out of the cemetery after that. Neither C or myself were anxious to have any more experiences at that cemetery.

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Reba Petro
Wow, scary story,. I might have done the same thing.
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