The drive was pleasant...that is, until this last twenty miles or so.

That's when I hit nothing but a combination of dirt and gravel roads, all of which are heavily rutted and riddled with holes.

Just my luck.

I have never in my life seen or experienced so many dirt and gravel roads in one area.

Did the Department of Transportation run out of money, or is there some kind of asphalt shortage here? It's as if their goal is to make this area as inhospitable as possible. If that's the case, then they've most definitely succeeded.

I have to be extremely careful, driving very slowly, and at times, almost to a crawl in certain sections in order to dodge all of the holes.

The one redeeming factor that's allowing me to keep my nerves from being worn to a complete frazzle is being able to listen to my music which always tends to make things better. Well, it masks the grating noise of the rough gravel roads and the various rattles in my car anyway.

I'm not too sure that my car or the tires will survive this road from Hell intact. Even more troubling is the fact that my cell phone has zero reception and has been this way for the past half hour.

Maybe I should turn around. I certainly can't afford my car or tires being damaged.

After I think on it for a minute, I decide that I've already come too far to just simply turn around. Besides, my car is making it just fine despite everything, so far. I doubt that one of those jacked-up monster trucks with the huge wheels could do any better.

As you can tell, I love my car. It's older, but still pretty nice, at least to me anyway. I would've never considered driving my car on roads like this, not even for a second, but again, for some strange reason, I just have to get there.

When I first got my car, Denise tried to make me give it to her while I took her old, rusted out piece of shit 1984 Ford Tempo. When I told her that it wasn't happening, she cussed me out, slapped and threatened me; you know, the norm between her and I. So I always keep my keys hidden, sleeping with them under my pillow at night and my car always locked up whether she's home or not because not only do I not trust her, but we do live in the ghetto.

Besides, she - yes, my car is a she - needed to stretch her legs a bit after just driving around town all winter. However, this isn't what I had in mind.

I usually just drive it to work or for whatever errands I may have. I still take the bus to and from school despite the major suck factor because it's free and saves gas, and because the one and only time that I did drive to school, some of the assholes thought it would be funny to let the air out of my tires and add a few scratches to the paint.

That was just another fucked up day out of many for me. What made it worse was when my mother unfortunately heard about it and gloated, playing the whole 'I told you so' card, and then droned on about why my car should be hers and the Tempo would be a better option for an irresponsible teen like me.

However, she's the one who goes through clunkers like water, forgetting to put oil in them or some other essential need. She's the type who drives around on fumes and bald tires, no insurance, expired plates, duct taping things, only putting in a couple of bucks worth of gas at a time instead of filling it up, not to mention that she also drives drunk and stoned quite often. Let's not forget about the times that her tank has been sugared in various cars, and rightly so. She certainly has a knack for pissing people off.

But according to her, if someone at my school ever scratched my car again and it was the Tempo, you'd never be able to tell. She sure isn't one for logic is she? She also went on to tell me that her car was a better fit for a loser like me and that I got what I deserved. She always tells me that she doesn't blame the kids at school for not liking me.

I'm jarred from my thoughts as the gravel road transitions to rough dirt again. Ugh!

The dust and dirt on these roads forced me to have to close my sunroof earlier as well as raise my windows, denying me of any cool, fresh air. My AC doesn't work anymore and I haven't had the extra money to fix it which sucks majorly, especially right now, not to mention that my poor car will definitely need washed after this.

Another thing I notice beside the deplorable roads is how desolate it is, even for Indiana.

When I say that this area is desolate, I mean desolate. I haven't seen anything except a few old long abandoned houses and falling down barns, for the last 30 or 40 miles at least which is kind of weird.

No cars, no people, no nothing except overgrown fields and woods. I don't even recall seeing any telephone or electrical poles either.

But then again, I haven't been able to pay too much attention since I've had to keep most of my focus on these horrible roads that look like they were full of land mines at one time.

I'm sure that I'm getting close, or at least I hope I am, so I need to stop the car for a moment and check my map.

I pull my car as much as I can to the side of the ratty old road that I am on. I just have to be careful because there are steep ditches that run on both sides.

Thankfully, I had the insight to print the map and directions from the library's computer since my cell phone doesn't have internet or GPS. Even if I had a top of the line model, it would be just as useless in an area such as this anyway because there still is no signal.

I grab the paper with the MapQuest logo on the top and make sure that I am still on the right track.

After looking over the vague directions and map for a few, I'm sure I am which is a miracle since hardly any of these roads are marked. I've mostly just had to rely on my intuition, so far.

I shift my car back into drive and continue on to where the trails are supposed to be.

After ten more minutes of hellish road, I make one final turn onto a road that has an old, rusty sign full of bullet holes that reads DEAD END.

I drive about a quarter of a mile more before I finally arrive and see what I assume is an area for parking.

It's small, crude, and cordoned off with what appear to be old railroad ties and rusty, broken chains. It's also kind of muddy since it's recessed into the woods. It's not a pretty sight, nor a good first impression.

I just hope I don't get stuck...

However, I am just relieved to finally be parking and getting out of the car and off of those roads.

I'm even more determined now to make this day count after the shit I went through to get here.

Oh, God...I'll have to drive these roads again when I leave. Ugh!

This means that I'll need to leave earlier than I had anticipated. It's a total bummer, but I'd hate to even think about navigating those roads at night.

I think about what the internet said about this place, that you shouldn't be anywhere near here at night. Now I know why.

After stretching my legs, I notice a few old haphazard, worn, homemade looking signs, or warnings I should say. This doesn't really surprise me after what I'd read about this place, nor do they deter me in the slightest.

Upon closer inspection, what I do find odd is that there are no other signs anywhere, like the ones you typically see on public lands such as this.

There are no signs from the Bureau of Land Management, nor does this place appear to even have an official name.

I turn back to the warning signs and chuckle to myself; I can't help it, they are quite comical and look like something you'd see in front of a haunted house on Halloween.

They read, BEWARE, Enter at Your Own Risk, TURN BACK NOW, and Nice Knowing You. My favorite one though, as well as what appears to be the oldest of the bunch says, Leave This Place Lest Ye Be Cursed.

I don't recall any pirate history in Indiana, so whoever made this one must've had a penchant for pirates. I mean, who doesn't like Pirates of the Caribbean?

Maybe Johnny Depp will suddenly appear from behind the trees any moment now.

Yeah, right along with a Yeti and ET. I roll my eyes at my thoughts.

I'll probably end up in Davy Jones' Locker. Argh, me matey! I hear in my mind in pirate brogue causing me to giggle. I'm glad there's no one else here right now because they'd probably think I'm nuts.

Shaking that nonsense off, I retrieve my backpack and lunch cooler.

I remove the contents of the cooler, including the ice pack, and transfer it into my backpack. I had put the ice pack inside of an old, plastic Wal-Mart sack at the house to keep it from leaking in my backpack, so that my hands could be free once I got here.

After making sure that I have everything I need, I lock my car up and then head toward the path into the woods, if you can call it that. It's barely apparent.

I knew I was going to have to rely heavily on my compass because I couldn't find any maps or information on the trails inside of this place, so I'm glad I brought it.

Suddenly, something dawns on me. I have been so engrossed with the signs and everything else that I haven't noticed until now how eerily quiet and still everything is.

I think that my mind or my ears are playing tricks on me, or maybe this place is.

I focus more intently for a few minutes, looking around. Still, I don't hear or see a single thing. No wind, no birds, no animals, no insects, nothing. This whole place seems like some sort of dead zone, literally.

A chill runs down my spine.

I have to admit that I am starting to get a little creeped out. Animals and insects have something like a sixth sense, and if they aren't here where they belong, I have to ask myself why?

Unfortunately, I have no answers or even theories, and I definitely don't want to even consider any of the crap that I read about this place. I can't. Those sorts of things just don't exist.

The only real monsters are people. Believe me, I know.

Besides, I've come all this way, especially on those roads, and there is no way I'm turning back now.

Daylight's a wastin', so I've just got to suck it up and put my big girl panties on.

I can do this!

I quickly throw my keys into my backpack and take my compass out. As I look at it, I see that the needle is spinning around out of control. Huh...that's weird. I know this thing is old, but it shouldn't be doing this. It never has before.

I give it a few good shakes and hit it into the palm of my hand a couple of times, for good measure, and it's still acting haywire. Shit! It's broken.

Can anything else go wrong today?!

I feel like crying, but instead, I put the compass back into my backpack. Even if it's broke, I'll always keep it.

I could always leave a trail of breadcrumbs, if I had any bread.

So much for psyching myself up...

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