We had all the essentials: nine white candles, two guidebooks, a flashlight, and of course, the Ouija board.
Making our way up
“This is it guys, we have to go in through here,” my good friend Katy Desmond, a 22 year-old publishing marketer said. She had written her college thesis on paranormal activity and was an expert fence jumper.
The fringe of the Cypress Hills Cemetery was surrounded by a rusty, jagged lattice. The crematorium was the only break in this chain. Surveying the graveyard we were initially terrified by a group of dogs we assumed were the night watch. To our relief, they were just feral.
Perspiration dripped from my upper lip leaving a salty residue. I cursed myself for ever agreeing to this. The group braced to jump the corroded barrier.