300 Writing Prompts: Against All Logic

This really happened. I can't make heads or tails of any of it.

...The year The Blair Witch Project came out, there was an uptick in people in my hometown visiting a notoriously haunted spot: Mary Jane's grave, somewhere near Possum Run Road. She too, was rumored to be a witch, but I don't remember any more of her story beyond that. It's been 26 years, after all, since this happened.

Anyway, my sister and some of her friends came to pick me up from a football game where I had played in the marching band. They wanted to go to the grave. They told me the rules: don't turn off your car engine or else it won't come back on; don't turn the car lights off; don't shut the car doors. Things supposedly went haywire with your car if you didn't follow the rules, often stranding you there for a period of time.

We reached a back road, maybe made of gravel, but what I remember most are the trees, which formed a sort of archway around the road. The trees were creepy; it was dark; and I started getting this really weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The closer we got to the gravesite, the more scared I became. I wanted us to turn around, but we were almost there. I started crying.

Once we got there, my sister and one of her friends got out of the car. They had a makeshift cross they were going to stick in the grave, and if I remember correctly, they were also going to pray or say some words over it. They left the car running, the lights on, and the front doors of the car open.

I wouldn't get out of the car, and one of my sister's friends kindly kept me company as I cried and felt panicky. We left our own doors shut.

As I'm sitting there crying, I start hearing this really freaky wailing in the woods. It was probably some sort of animal, but at the time it sounded like a person. I freaked out even more.

Finally my sister and her friend got back in the car, and I didn't feel well until we were out of the archway of trees and back on a paved road again.

When my sister went to drop off the friend that went to the gravesite with her, she called us all outside.

All over the trunk of my sister's car were small, muddy, human handprints. They weren't there before.

To this day I have no idea what the hell happened. It was one of the scariest moments in my life, and it just makes no sense. I have no explanation for the handprints--I could maybe explain away my bad feelings and the sound I heard in the woods, but not the handprints.