The children went to school as they always did, giggling and playfully pushing each other. Nothing more than first and second graders. The tiny one-room school was nestled across the street in the sparse woods. Holding hands as they crossed the street like they were always directed by elders to do so, they missed the oncoming bus, as it is said, the bus slaughtered each one of them from the grips they held on each other in death. The force supposedly impounded their little bodies on impact. Late at night it is said that these children can be seen crossing that street, hands held. Would anyone like to come with Miss Icy to see them? After that, we can hit my fave graveyards.
