The Princeton Cemetery is exactly what it sounds like: a really large grassy area with a lot of dead people in it. There’s a really large mausoleum that’s pretty cool, if you’re into that sort of stuff, and some of the graves are really quite beautiful. However, other graves essentially look like above-ground stone coffins that send a shiver up my spine upon first glance. If you’re a history buff, it may interest you that Aaron Burr’s bones are sitting somewhere in the graveyard. But if you’re a super paranoid child like me, then maybe this isn’t the place to go looking for an adventure off campus.
Seriously though, I was walking down Witherspoon Street along the edge of the graveyard, and it felt like all the sound had been sucked out of the air. There were very few cars on the road and no one outside, even though it was just past noon on a Saturday. I suppose it didn’t help that the clouds had rolled in after a misleading, gloriously sunny morning. I wasn’t quite sure if the silence around me was blissfully serene, or totally eerie.
I walked along the fence for a good portion of the graveyard looking for a way to get in and was relieved when I couldn’t find one. But, on my way back up Witherspoon, I did happen to glance down a small street where I saw a break in the fence — and when I say break, I mean it looked like a large creature had ripped out a section of it. No thanks.
I scurried back up to Nassau Street as fast as I could. Upon returning to my room, I uploaded the few pics that I took onto Facebook, only to have it attempt to tag “faces” that didn’t exist in the photos. I think I’ll be watching a lot of cartoons before I go to bed.