Graveyard stories have fascinated me for years ever since hearing the story about The Lady in White, who walks down Route 28 in New Jersey, wearing a long, flowing white dress.

The County modernized the old rusted truss bridge over Bear Creek.  At one time, the branches of the trees on both sides of the streamlet reached out to each other like long-lost lovers. The steel embraced the darkness the thick leaves provided. Now, the County had slashed the blackness away. The glow of the sun lights ...

Trigger Warning: The following deals with death and suicide. The snow powdered the ground as Elaine unlocked the front door and pushed it open. The creak of the hinges echoed in the empty home. She closed the white steel door and latched it. When she spun around, the thudding of rocks hitting the door and the ...