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Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Cemeteries - Not All They Are Cracked Up To Be


This is broken leg story number too...a little more dramatic and stupid than the taking in the washing one... This happened in the Glendalough Cemetery in Wicklow.

About ten years ago I stupidly volunteered along with another few muppets to take a group of under-privileged children up to Glendalough Cemetery on the night of All Hallows Eve for a scaretastic treasure hunt...and for the non muppet like people out there All Hallows Eve is the night of Halloween.

Two problems arose.. I am terrified of graveyards...I am also afraid of the night...now not night time just the dark of the night...along with these two issues I had to deal with four youths who had no respect for these fears or the effects they might have on others....let alone had no respect for me...

Anyway as we stumbled our way around the graveyard in the pitch black hunting for clues I grew more and more anxious and more and more pissed off with my generosity to help out others....

We arrived at the shell of an oul church which was really scary...now I don't mean Harry Potter scary or even Thirteen Ghosts scary, I am talking Night of the Living Dead Scary or Pet Cemetery Scary...Now put together ...fear....my competitive streak......little shits taunting me and my ability to give in to peer pressure..well it wasn't exactly peer pressure but it was pressure..I decided to go in...Alone....

I run forward into the church..its very very dark..I see steps, climb them, I run into a room and collect the clue..dont ask cause for the life of me I don't know what it was..but needless to say I was petrified...so petrified that logic didn't take over, nor did sense or the ability to be rational...so what did I do, I saw another set of steps that led into the light...well the light of the moon anyway...I run towards them...

Now me, running and the dark are not three words that should be in a sentence together...I ran...I hit the first step...then the second..then........I ran of the side of the building...there was no third subsequent step..only two steps that led to nowhere only suicide......

As I fell the few feet to the ground, landing on another set of steps I realised what a total tool I was....and as I lay there screaming in pain...there was no consideration for anyone here, just me....I am howling and wailing and all our group surrounded me I realised something....I hate teenagers...they all stood there pointing and laughing while I lay there crying and wailing....

I started screaming at the other volunteers to get me the f*&k out of there...so instead of calling an ambulance or an airlift as I requested, a couple of the lads carried me to a van where I was quite literally thrown into and driven to the nearest hospital...where the lads said the traffic was two busy and I would be best going in the morning..so they dumped me home...

The next morning I woke up and observed a blue and purple ball in place of where my foot once was..I went immediately to A&E and was informed I had broken my ankle....now before you say anything..I know...I...AM....A....TOTAL.....CABBAGE......

photos courtesy of inmagine and world of stock.com

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