Last night, in a rush of youthful exuberance, Maren, Danny, our friend Brittney and I decided to go ghost hunting. We drove a tension-filled half hour to a suspicious looking sign. I wish we had a picture. "Alpine City Cemetery." It was like a sign that would be at the front of a ranch, but it opened up over a small paved lane going uphill in complete darkness. We slowly advanced on foot about 20 feet up that hill towards the unknown before fear got the better of us and we hurtled down, our flip-flops slapping against the pavement. Deciding that relying on technology would probably yield better results than our courage, we piled back into the car and drove up the lane, hoping that a flaming ghost car wouldn't block us and prevent our descent. After a period of escalating dares, me and Danny are pretty sure that we saw the famous ghost girl frolicking in the grave field. So, we ran away as fast as we could. Then we went to Sonic and got limeades and cheesecake bites, finally hitting the sack at 2 in the morning, a prayer on our lips against the silent forces of darkness. Here's a video from a particular moment of terror. Danny dares Brittney to walk across the graves of the dead while we all keep a look out for ghosts. Notice a strange, unexplainable flash of red in the middle.
