I dragged her through the quiet cemetery. "No, I don't want to!" she laughs.

I shouldn't have brought her.

"No, it'll be fun," I say. I pull her farther in. We weave between between headstones. "It's probably haunted on Halloween," she says.

I shouldn't have brought her.

"Let's go find that serial killer's grave," I insist. The dead branches of trees above us claw at the misty moon.

We run. Her hand in mine. I shouldn't have brought her.

She drops suddenly, scream breaking through the dark. I turn to catch her. She's gone, fallen into an open grave. Her grave now.

I shouldn't have brought her.