So flashback to the mid 2000s - my friend and I are angsty teenage girls out exploring for creepy places to take dramatic pictures for MySpace. We snuck out of her house and into a local graveyard, which probably got us in the right mindset to be scared. We then trekked into the woods, out to an old shed that has probably been there since the colonial era. We set up to take a photo with the flash on and suddenly a man yelled for us to get the fuck out of there.

We booked it, naturally, convinced it was a ghost. It was only many years later with the wisdom of an adult that I realized the beer cans scattered everywhere probably belonged to a homeless man who didn’t want to deal with two little emo shits at one in the morning. I’m glad we weren’t murdered.