I don't remember much of my original home. Just nice houses, clean cut yards, bottles of coca cola on the curb of a lazy street, the basic 60's childhood. It all changed one night when me and my friends decided one night to walk in the Derkin Woods, in a full moon, in the middle of the night. You see, me and my friends have always heard myths that the forest is haunted, some say that it is the ghost of a widower, whose husband was brutally murdered in the middle of the night by an axe wielding psychopath, who also took up residence in the woods. In all honesty, it hadn't been my idea, no this obviously brilliant brain child belonged to Billy Rodricks, whose future lay in the burger flipping industry, and me being the obvious victim of this henious act of peer preasure, decided to follow, or else be called chicken the next day at school.
We walked deep into these haunted woods, the ghosts of our fear seemingly hanging around every corner, werewolves, monsters, and ghouls all hiding in the rustleing leaves, and the cold breaze of nearby ghosts chilling our very bones to the depths. Slowly, as we got deeper into the woods the light breeze turned into a howling rain as the first drops of rain fell onto our faces. The other kids turned tail and run, but i glared at billy, daring him to leave, after all this was his plan to begin with, and either from some courage that Billy had been hiding, or just the fear that this would ruin whatever reptutation he had spent his 14 year old life building, he and i stayed on path, determined to get through the woods and find what secret was hidden within these ancient trees.
As the rain and the winds grew larger, our hearts fell slightly, we decided to make a run for it and try to find some shelter. Billy noticed a building in the distance and as the small speck of a shack grew larger, we realized that this was not an ordinary shack, to our surprize, it was a gas station.