It was Halloween night and my friends and I were driving to a local graveyard at the edge of town. We were too old to trick-or-treat and too shy to attend any parties, so we found ourselves piling into my car and heading to a cemetery in the dead of night. It was my crazy idea to spend the eeriest night of the year amongst the dead and, after much convincing, my friends Buck and Daisy eventually agreed. I wanted to be there as it turned midnight: the witching hour. It's said that the veil between our world and the spiritual world is thinnest on Halloween. The night was cold and empty. The stars stood bright and alone in the expansive black sky that seemed to stretch on forever. The old cemetery was worn and overgrown with tall thick grass sprouting out from amongst the neglected tombstones.