Correcting His Tombstone
This is a related to us by our English teacher, Mr Duffin.
It was a raining and cold when I got out of work that evening. It would soon be dark. I had a long day at work and I hate getting home in the dark. So, I decided to take the short cut, which cuts through a graveyard.
I grew up in this little town and I’ve heard my share of queer stories about that graveyard. However, I was a sceptic. I just didn’t believe in ghost. I brushed away all those stories claiming they were made up by some people to scare others. I pulled my hood on and started the walk home. The rain had seized by then but the path was still all muddy. I slowly made my way through the graveyard, thinking of nothing but to get home soon.
As I made my way deeper and deeper into the graveyard, I heard a faint tapping sound. I couldn’t make out which direction the sound came from but it seemed to be all over me. I ignored it and kept on, not wanting to be late. Nevertheless, the tapping seemed to gradually get louder as I went on. This became quite annoying for I thought maybe someone is trying to spook me and I definitely wasn’t in the mood that evening.
The noise became louder still and I am beginning to be able to sense where it came from. I decided i had to check it out. Slowly, I find my way through a little path. Then, right ahead of me, there was a white man crouching down in front of a grave. He was busy tapping away.
Before I could open my mouth and ask what he was doing, he stopped and turned towards me. He didn’t look anything unusual or even spook, but there’s one thing about his eyes that made the hairs at the back of my head stand. He looked straight at me and said, “They spelt my name wrong,” and then disappeared.