It had to be the night.

11:45 p.m. Somewhere in a California cemetery.

“Why do I let her talk me into these things.” Angela thought to herself as she followed behind her cousin Renee.

“How are you feeling back there? Drew said these shrooms are more potent than the last batch.” Renee said. She continued to lead the path to their grandmother’s tombstone.

“I think its starting to kick in, my steps are feeling a little weird now. Are we almost to Grandma?” Angela replied.

They walked a few more steps and Renee made a sudden stop. She placed her flashlight down next to the headstone of Jenny Cestalia. Angela sat down her backpack at the foot of the casket, removed the flowers from the bag and placed them in the holder beside the tombstone. The women laid out their blankets next to their grandmother’s tombstone, reminisced and waited for the psychedelic effects of the mushrooms to start.

“What do you think Grandma would be telling us right now, knowing we are on shrooms?” Angela asked.

Renee let out a chuckle and answered, “She would wait until morning and give us a huge lecture about how drugs are the devil and some wild story about her sister.” The women giggled, laughed and carried on bringing up stories she told them as children.

“Hey, do they lock the gates here or do we sleep in the car tonight?” Asked Angela.

“They don’t lock the gates. I left here at 2 in the morning before. We’re okay.” Renee answered.

The night carried on, the 1 a.m. heavy fog began to set in, Renee pulled a bottle of red wine from the backpack and took the first drink from the bottle. Angela and Renee shared the bottle of wine, giggled and hallucinated for the next several hours. They shared stories and laughs when the sudden sound, EEEEE, REEE, EEEER, came from the front lots of the cemetery. Claaang! rang out across every lot, Angela quieted herself, looked over at Renee and asked, “What was that? Did we just get locked in here?”

“I didn’t hear anything. You’re just tripping out. stretch out, relax and enjoy the night.” Renee said.

Angela sat back and tried to forget the noises she heard, or thought she heard. Renee passed the bottle of wine back to her, “Take a drink, mellow out a little. Remember these shrooms are stronger than last time.”

Angela took a few sips and handed it back to Renee. “You’re probably right, these are just hitting me harder this time. I think I need to take a walk.”

“Take the flashlight with you, I’ll be here.” Renee said. Angela equipped herself with the flashlight and walked off into the dark fog. She walked a few minutes until she heard the bushes rustle. A cat or raccoon, she thought to herself. Then CLAAANG! CLANG!, she increased her pace and walked back to Renee.

Panting, Angela asked, “You heard that, right?”

“Hear what?” Renee questioned.

“It sounds like the gate is being slammed closed, repeatedly. How do you not hear that, it’s so loud.” Angela explained.

“Ang, Ang. You’re high, tripping, you’re imagining things.” Renee giggled. Just then, a whisper in her ear. “Re. Re.” The giggling stopped, her face painted stone-straight, eyes fixed with concern and she turns to Ang.

“Uh, Renee? What’s wrong?…You hear something, don’t you?” Angela asked.

“I do. Sounds like Grandma calling me.” Both, now painted with concern upon their face, try to calm each other down. “Remember, we’re just really high. It’s just the shrooms messing with us.” Renee reassured.

“Let’s go to the car, try to chill out to some music.” Ang suggested.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s do that.” Renee agreed. They gathered their things and got into the car.

“Play some Bob. That always mellows us out.” Renee said.

“I’ve been here before, on shrooms and that didn’t happen. What the, what was that?” Renee continued.

“Maybe it was Grandma calling to you. I mean I don’t feel very high anymore. I don’t know about you but I think its wearing off already.” Angela said.

“I think that scared me sober. I felt pretty high when I heard it. I don’t know Ang, maybe we should cut this visit short and head home.”

“I’m fine with that. I could use some water.” Ang agreed. They buckled up and drove off toward the exit gate. Screech! Renee, slammed on the brakes nearly hitting the closed gate. The women looked at each other with confusion, “What?!” they expressed simultaneously. “Renee, what the fuck happened? You said they don’t close the gates. Tell me you know another way out of here?” Angela questioned.

“I don’t know Ang, I don’t know. This is the only way in and out.”

“Fuck! I don’t want to stay here Renee. I’m freaking out now. And I’m definitely not high anymore. We need to get out.” Angela expressed.

CLAAANG! CLAAANG! EEEEEE, EEEER, REEEE , EEEEE.

“Okay, I heard that one.” Renee said.

The headlights beamed through the fog as the car idled in park inches from the gate and the windshield began to fog up. A slow writing message appeared on the windshield, “You have disrespected the dead. Never again.” The women stunned, sat in complete silence.

“What does that mean?” They thought to themselves.

The message faded and the window cleared, the clanging stopped, the gate was now open. In a panic they drove through the open gate as fast as possible.

Speeding off down the road for half a mile when they suddenly pulled over and stopped. They sat panicked and worried. Too scared to say anything, they sat in silence for the next half hour.

“What do you think that message was about? Maybe we are still, pretty high. There’s no way any of that was real.” Angela said. “Let’s just get home. We can finish the wine there, maybe some stand-up comedy will help us forget all this.” She continued.

“Okay, yeah. How much wine do we have left?” Renee asked.

Angela reached around the backpack only to be surprised to find an empty bag, no wine bottle.

“I think we left it behind. " Angela said. The lack of sleep, the come down of the psychedelic drugs and the buzz from the wine no longer lingering, Renee pushed down on the gas pedal and drove off towards her apartment.

“We did bring wine with us, right?” Angela asked.

“Right?” She repeated.