The Visitor- 1975A Story by ayesha cullen This is a true horror story experienced by one Chris Thomas. Read to find out what had happened to him in his own words. Written by- Chris Thomas My story takes place in mid August of 1975. My father, older brother and I are making a hurried trip to my grandmother’s cabin located a few miles outside of town in the back hills of Mars Hill North Carolina nestled in the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains. Her home is quiet and secluded and infrequently visited and has little to none of the standard amenities and comforts that we had come to expect and enjoy. Although our stay was brief, I had this overwhelming sense of dread and I didn’t actually know why. Was it the weather, the unfortunate need of the trip or the sheer speed or urgency in which we left? Regardless, I had no time to mentally prepare for this excursion. The roads were unyielding and wet, the skies were filled with thunder and my father was nervously focused on reaching his family home before something drastic happened. I felt the tension and it was very real and this alone added to my already present sense of confusion. My brother and I were four years apart and that was just enough for us to be at odds with one another. Normally, we would be as far apart from each other as we possibly could be at all times, but cramped in a vehicle for hours on end was torture for us both. His constant complaining only made the distance seem punishingly longer. The whining and reluctant yelling simply forced me deeper into my shell of self preservation. My only comfort was the sound of the rain drops forcefully hitting the back window behind me and the squeaking sound of the windshield wipers at full blast in the front of the car. This, amidst everything else created music in my ear. I found moments of peace to where I quickly closed my eyes and rushed to a place where all that surrounded me was beautiful, friendly and happy. There was no doubt, no need for reservation and only joy. These were brief moments but valuable ones. Now, just in case you may be wondering as to the accuracy or mental capacity of one so young and insecure with life, please let me assure you that I was much wiser than most and I was very capable of in-depth understanding and knowledge of everything around me. I was mentally present and always perceptive in any way possible. The facts that you are now hearing are accurate to the complete detail. For all intensive purposes this should have been an enjoyable and relaxing trip because I did love my grandmother dearly. In the past we had a few brief opportunities to speak on a phone and those conversations alone solidified my love for her. She was family and that was all that mattered. I was very anxious to meet her for the first time but what was to occur in the last night of our stay was so life mind-altering and unsettling that I was never able to share the events till now and as for my grandmother’s home? I never returned. Even to this day I become chilled and nauseous to the memory of what I am sharing with you now. Back to my story- After what seemed like
days we finally reached the last stretch of paved road to our destination. It
was now early in the am and I was awoken by the car being abruptly and unexpectedly
shifted back and forth from right to left without reason. Oh My God, what was
going on? Did we run off the road? Had my father fallen asleep at the wheel?
Thankfully no, but my little heart still raced. The beating on the car was due
to the occasional sudden drops in path on which we were driving. We were no
longer on a road with any type of markers, signs or lights. At a snail’s pace we managed to move along a very narrow path hitting every deep pocket in the unpaved muddy road below. From what little I could see outside my window, this didn’t even look like a road at all. I was internally praying that if this is what it is like to just travel there then Please don’t let us make it there and yet I am also praying, please don’t let us get stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. I was so confused and without comfort. The rain did not hold back and was unkind
to the road beneath us. Still, we reached the point where we could drive no
further and we were forced to leave the comforts of the vehicle and literally walk
a block or so (per my father) to my Grandmother’s house. As a side note - I
should say that my Grandmother did not like the title of Grand or Grandmother (a
title which she so lovingly had earned) but much preferred being called by her
name Sadie Mae, so in my own feeble attempt at a fraction of adolescent respect,
I called her Miss Sadie. We reluctantly opened the cars doors and grabbed only what we needed for the night as my father clearly stated that the final track to Miss Sadie’s house was unlevel, unpaved, wet and slick. I grabbed my pillow and nothing more and quickly grabbed my father’s hand to guide me in the dark. The ground was drenched and I was being pounded by unending cold rain drops from the low hanging trees. I had only stepped feet from the car and in moments my clothing was soaked through. Cold, wet and damp I pushed on with only two consolations; my father’s hand and the small flashlight that he had given me to light the path for my feet. I distinctly remember him saying “If you hear growling or hissing just shine the light in that area for a few seconds and IT should stop but KEEP WALKING”. I listened and willingly obeyed but what was this “IT” that he spoke of? Any light was comforting at this point but the tiny batteries were no match for the darkness. It only penetrated a few feet ahead of me into the unknown and left the rest for my imagination. There was the absence of light everywhere but the air also birthed a very dark fog and this only intensified my fear. The sensation I had was that I was walking to my doom. My God, I just want to go home. Please take me home I said under my breath. At last, there was no more mud and no longer a feeling that the ground was moving beneath me, instead the path was covered in rocks and I remembered my father saying that rocks signified the fact that we were getting closer. Off in the near distance was the comforting
sound of water flowing and this sound became louder and louder as we slowly and
carefully made our way toward it. The water was so inviting and more comforting
than any other sound that I had been acquainted with up until this point. One step, two steps, three steps and four as
we crossed over a small elevated bridge and then found ourselves in somewhat of
an open field. You couldn’t see it but you knew you were surrounded by space
and lots of it. My eyes desperately tried to focus on anything secure and
manmade but you just couldn’t see anything behind you or beside you and the little
light from the flashlight was losing its battle. Suddenly my eyes caught a faint glimpse in the distance. It was inviting and welcoming. I saw a single flame, candle or lamp. All I knew was that it wasn’t electric this far out in the hills, in the dark, in the night. I knew to walk toward it and nothing else mattered so, my eyes focused on it and longed for it. The light seemed to just float in the air as if it were hovering in the darkness. It is interesting to note that one of my greatest insecurities is the fear of the unknown and despite the urge to run the opposite direction I just knew that something positive there awaited me. The light awkwardly beckoned me closer and the closer I got, the more entrancing it became. I was hypnotically captivated by this single light out in the middle of nowhere. It was my solace. I forgot where I was and who I was. The warm light was glowing and pulsing and it became everything to me. Once I crossed to the other side of the bridge, a small window frame became clear and it cradled the flame so nicely. Then curtains appeared and then the house itself began to emerge. I was only feet away from a warm and dry environment with walls and a roof for protection. Everything was different now, even the air and sounds around me changed drastically. The slightly warm sticky air with drops of moisture that had blown beside me and pushed me down along the path were now replaced with a chill and stillness that forced shivers through the center of my body. The rain had stopped the meaning of cold took on a whole new meaning for me. No sounds of traffic or life on the move were present. Instead the air was filled with the cries and voices of unfamiliar animals and flying nocturnal activity and of course accompanied by the sounds of my footsteps and staggered breathing. We had arrived! Thank God! As I dragged my tired and wet little body up the twelve creaky wooden steps we were greeted with a loud and excited and much unexpected “Hello son”. I gasped slightly and shook to the bone. I didn’t know that someone was even out there. It was my grandmother, she had apparently been sitting in the rocker just a few feet from the lamp and her silhouette was hidden in the darkness. My heart was racing again. Why is everything affecting me this way? I was on a mental roller coaster literally going up and down mental hills of anticipation and anxiety. She welcomed us inside and quickly lit other lamps to ensure greater viewing of her late night guests. “So great to see you and the little ones,” She said. She came to my brother first and said “My my how he has grown, they are both so big, I just might have to put these boys to work tomorrow in the field.” Not exactly what I wanted to hear after our long travels but her lack of humor was quickly replaced with hugs and forehead kisses for all. She then looked at me said something quietly to my father that didn’t quite make sense. She said “Oh look at the little one, so darling and precious. He looks just like him you know”. All I heard was the word “precious” and that made me feel special. Meeting her for the very first time was so thrilling and eye opening. I was learning more and more about her and my father as the minutes passed. He became a child in her presence in front of my eyes, but the learning time ended quickly as we were encouraged to shed our wet garments and get into bed. My father and Miss Sadie would stay up thru the night to speak about his brothers ailing condition. As for me, I was exhausted and in need of sleep. I did not know that this would be my last night peaceful night’s sleep because these back woods were holding a menacing secret that I would soon come face to face with, but for now…rest.
In the morning a soft light filled my room
with rays of sunshine filtering through the handmade ivory colored lace
curtains. The light shone down onto the floor where I would soon place my feet.
As I sat up on the side of the bed I was mesmerized as pieces of dust gently flew
through the air. They looked like little fairies. Oh well, you can’t blame me
for having a creative mind. It felt really good to wake up. I don’t remember
having such an amazing night’s sleep before. The feathered down bed was so soft
and comfortable that it consumed my body and surrounded me with pillowing hugs
all night long. It seemed that my mental torment was over. I opened the door from my room and there it
was. It was one of the most memorable smells that I can honestly say that I
will never forget. It was heavenly. I still keep the memory of this scent alive
in my mental warehouse of pleasure. I am not sure why it stays with me but
possibly because I not only smelled it but viewed it and then tasted it. There
is something to be said about memory when involving the senses you know. This
memory involved three senses and that alone was enough to last forever for me. As I stepped into the parlor I saw Miss
Sadie’s best dishes laid out before me. They were simple and unadorned but
placed with meticulous precision. Miss Sadie was in the kitchen cooking
feverishly over her black cast iron stove. I watched as she would occasionally
stoke the fire with additional kindling wood and even as she worked she still
managed to allow a small tune to escape from her lips. I never found out the
name of this melody but she was happy and that made me smile. The sound and smell of freshly cooked
sausage sizzling on a wood burning stove was worth the drive here. She began by
making the sausage first and then she would drain the sausage into a side
skillet and would then cook the bacon in that rendered fatty fluid. After the
bacon had been removed and set aside, the remaining bacon/sausage grease was
added to fresh cream and flour and made into ever thickening gravy. Small bits
of rendered bacon and larger pieces of sausage were then added for dimension
and this make sausage gravy to die for. The gravy was the focal point of the table
until her homemade biscuits entered the room. They were soft, buttery, huge and
flaky and ready for consumption. You knew that they were delicious by
appearance alone. Once the food had been placed on the table we all then took our
place at the designated spots set aside for us by Miss Sadie. Miss Sadie was seated
at the head and my father to her right. My brother and I were strategically separated
for obvious reasons and I couldn’t be happier. Strangely though, the four of us
were sitting there at a table set and lovingly prepared for five. An empty spot
was left at the other end of the table and in the chair seat below was placed a
small stuffed animal that was tattered and torn with age. I didn’t ask and did my best to give the
impression that I did not even see the toy or table placement. I thought it
strange but I was so hungry that it just didn’t matter. All I knew was that if I waited any longer I
would begin nibbling on the fake fruit that was placed in the center of the
table for decoration. After the meal was done and our bellies were full, we
fulfilled our responsibilities with clean up and then we were free to go, but
before I left I asked Miss Sadie this one question that I couldn’t get out of
my mind. Miss Sadie, why was our table
set for five people even though it was just the four of us and where did that
toy come from that is sitting in the chair? My father looked over at his mother then back to me and back again to his mother and said “It’s ok, you can tell him”. She walked over to me and put her arm around my shoulder and led me toward the front of the house. We walked slowly and had no words between us. We came to her bedroom and she opened the doors and we walked in. This was a room I assumed was off limits so I felt privileged to have admittance. Once inside, I saw an older photograph on the back wall. This was an oval frame slightly gilded in gold leaf with a large dome of glass that came out from the front. The photograph was of a boy similar to my age and size. The very interesting thing to mention here was the resemblance between us was striking. I felt as though I was looking in a mirror, but I knew that this was a real person in a real photo. It was aged and slightly faded with dust but very clear. This was obviously a person of importance. Miss Sadie, I said. Who is this? As her eyes began to moisten she softly
said. “This is MY son. His name was Tommy and he was your dad’s baby brother”. There was stillness in the air. She was sad in
remembering him but continued to share his story with joy. She loved him and in sharing him with me she
was keeping his memory very much alive. I asked her where Tommy was now and she
said that he had passed away and was buried at the top of the hill above the
house in the family graveyard. I should
have just left my questions there, but I had to know more and now after the
fact I realize that I should have just given up my investigation. What happened
to him? She told me the story then that he was my
age when he passed away. He had become sick at a very young age and that he
died unexpectedly but she that was “Ready to let him go” because she was given
a sign of what was to come. Apparently
Tommy’s room was the room I slept in and the bed I slept in was also Tommy’s.
She went on to say that on the morning that he passed that he was lying in bed
with a small fever and that she had all the windows and doors open to allow the
air to cool him and keep him comfortable. It wasn’t until she opened the front screen
door to allow a better breeze in the house that something very strange
occurred. As she opened the screen door a large screech owl flew in and perched
itself on the bedpost at the foot of Tommy’s bed. She said that she went to get the broom to
chase the owl out of Tommy’s room and came back and there was Tommy with his
eyes fully opened. He was looking at the bird and the without reason the bird
released a piercing squeal and quickly flew out the front door. Miss Sadie did
not hesitate to close the door and then came back to Tommy’s bed side and he
was gone. She said and confirmed that
this was an Omen and that the bird took his last breathe. I can’t describe how I felt at this moment. For the first time in my life I had no words, no thoughts. I was filled with emotion, sadness and horror. I said nothing. “Tommy passed in the bed you rested in and that was His chair at the table”. “I always set a place for him and I still feel his presence with me”. I truly feel as though she thought I was his reincarnation. I never went back in her room again and I never looked at his image again, but it stays burned in my memory still.
My father and Miss Sadie settled down on the living room couch with a cup of very strong coffee and awaited the arrival of his older brother in hopes of hearing the results from his recent exams. It was about to get very real, so this was my chance to escape. I was ready to get out and go anywhere and just be away from this house and my brother as well. Most of my time was spent on the porch out front listening to the birds and the creek that ran parallel to the porch about forty feet away. I had no difficulty finding things to amuse me. There were places to discover, rocks to turn over and many ways for me to just disappear. Looking off the porch directly in front of me was the creek which ran from left to right as far as I could see. To my right was a large corn field with the old run down outhouse located directly in front for ALL to see. I hated that thing. It was dark and dismal and reeked of truly awful odors. I knew time would come when I would be forced to use it, but till that time I would hold everything in as long as possible. To the left of the porch was a much larger field. This was a tobacco field and on the side was a large two story shed with tobacco hanging inside. This belonged to Miss Sadie’s neighbor in the house on the hill behind it. By looking at the instability of the shed you would assume that it could topple over with a few strong winds. It had a sharp lean to the right and the only way to make it seem straight was to turn my head to the side and view it from an angle. Behind the tobacco crop was a field of the most incredible sunflowers. They were taller than corn stalks ad their yellow faces covered the small valley. Behind the field of sunflowers was a long path leading up to Zelda’s home. She was my grandmother’s only neighbor and I was encouraged to visit her while I was out and about. It was nice to leave my family behind and
go investigating alone. I guess there was no concern or danger as they
willingly let me go wherever I wanted for as long as I wanted. My instructions
were only to not go over the bridge and to not go up the hill behind the house
for any reason. Before I was to set off on my journey I had no choice but to face my first interaction with what disturbed me the most…The outhouse. To this day I still can’t go near one of these things without breaking down into a cold sweat. Regardless, it was time and I was desperate. As I walked toward it I noticed a clothes line to the right of the house that I hadn’t seen before and this gave me an idea. You have remember here that the house was a good five to seven plus feet off the ground so some objects were out of sight until you were outside on the actual ground level. My idea was to take one of the old
fashioned wooden clothes pins and close my nose so that I wouldn’t smell the
odor in the outhouse. I thought it was genius, but then again I forgot that I
still needed to breathe in some way. I approached the rickety old out house
with trepidation. The open slats in the door gave some ventilation and
assurance that it was empty and available. That is one of the reasons it made
me feel very uncomfortable. I just didn’t like the idea of being watched. I quickly went inside and locked the door and prepared to do what needed to be done. I could NOT wait any further. There were large spiders in the corners of the ceiling that seemed equally dissatisfied with my presence. My small frame would barely fit over the hole in the seat and I had to hold myself up for fear of falling down inside it. I did what I had to do and literally ran out of there and walked down to the creek there below the house to rinse my hands. This
water was the coldest water imaginable. It came from a freshwater spring on the
left side of the house spring directly below the hill that held the family
cemetery. In the creek were some of the
most amazing rocks. Some were smooth and colorful and beautiful. Others were
covered in a soft green moss that flowed like hair in the wind as the water
passed over it. I spent hours here alone. One of my favorite tasks was to find
bigger rocks and place them in a line so that I could cross the creek. Even though there was the initial bridge we
crossed over when we arrived, I still felt the need to construct my own
secondary escape plan. I was told sternly NOT to cross the bridge but no one
said that I couldn’t create my own path and cross over that way. I had to challenge
authority whenever possible. I would have been successful had it not
been for the very last rock. I pulled it up from the very cold icy creek water
and immediately a red creature with huge claws came out pinching and a little
upset that I had disturbed its home. To me it looked like a giant lobster but
it was nothing more than a crawdad but it was first experience with this
monster. He was vicious. I didn’t hesitate to replace the rock and gave up on
my path to freedom. I stood there with
confidence in the center of the creek with both feet placed on large rocks just
inches above the water. With my hands firmly placed on my hips I looked over my
creation with great satisfaction. I then had a glimpse of the house above the
tobacco field and there was Zelda sitting on her front porch. When our eyes met
she stood up and waved. She really seemed friendly. Then she motioned for me to
come see her and this began my next adventure. It was finally time to meet the
natives. I began walking the long winding path toward
her house which would slowly incline as you made your way closer to the hill.
The path seemed to go on forever but something I found rather interesting were
these unbelievably tall sunflowers. They towered over me and blocked the view
of the house. It felt more like an
October corn maze during Halloween than a simple path. I know that this will sound ridiculous but I could swear that these gigantic flowers were somehow watching me because no matter where I was in the path, the heads were always facing my direction. When I arrived at the end of the path I
could see Zelda on her porch standing and waiting for me to arrive. Zelda was a short woman (who always wore a dress
by the way) had shoulder length white gray hair, no teeth and a huge smile. Even
without teeth, I have to admit that her smile was more beautiful than any smile
I remember having seen before. I could tell already that this visit would be a
highlight of my day. In your heart you knew that she didn’t get many visitors
anyway, so this gave me a great sense of worth. Her home was similar to Miss Sadies in that
it was elevated a good four to six feet above the ground. Just a few steps and a brief climb and
there I was. I was greeted in a way that made me feel as though I had known her
all my life. Once again I was covered with hugs and kisses. These people sure
are affectionate. Even her three legged cat came up to love on me a little. We
sat and talked and laughed and ate these cookies that she had made from berries
that were gathered on the hill behind my grandmother’s house. Where are these
berries I said? As I put them in my mouth. She told me that these berries were
plenteous on the hillside about halfway up but didn’t hesitate to remind me NOT
to go up there under any circumstance but if my father went up there with me it
might be ok. Spending time with Zelda was magical. She
showed me so many interesting things and shared so many stories. I could have
just sat there at her feet (with her cat in my lap) listening to her all night
long. She was like a friend to me and treated me equally. We went out behind
her house where hundreds of hand painted bird houses made from gourds hung
drying in the wind. She even took me through the process of cleaning a gourd
and then showing some of her newly finished works. It was a lot like school
except it was fun and I wanted to stay. I felt safe here. I felt loved and I
don't know why but I knew that I had nothing to fear. This was awesome. Before I left, Zelda gave me a bowl that she had made from a medium sized gourd and had skillfully sanded it down and painted it. I told her Thank you and gave her another hug. “Don’t you forget Zelda now, ok little one?” Yes ma’am, never. Time passed by so quickly and I hated to leave but knew that I should head back to the house before someone began to look for me. On the way back down the hill through the sunflowers (which again seemed to rotate and follow my every move) I caught a glimpse of the side view of the hill behind my grandmother’s house. It was the tallest hill in the area and you could almost see the top but not fully. I knew that I still had time some time and since I had an empty bowl, why shouldn’t I get some berries for Miss Sadie? Wouldn’t that be a great surprise? I quietly sneaked up to the hill because I
didn’t want to get in trouble but I also wanted to surprise Miss Sadie with
berries because I knew that she could never climb this hill and get them
herself. I was on a dire mission, a mission that I was obligated to complete. I
climbed over the barbwire fence carefully and began to scale this monster of a
mountain. The hill was steep and covered with lots of rocks and briars and the
occasional swarm of gnats. This was work. I tried to climb straight up but it
was impossible so going side to side seemed to be the best means to go higher
still. I eventually got so high that it was frightfully unsettling for me to stand up fully. I stayed on my hands and feet didn’t look down. Finally, I came upon a huge patch of wild berries, some black and others red. I knew these were the ones because they resembled those I had tasted at Zelda’s. I grabbed a cluster here and there and before you knew it my bowl was over flowing with sugary goodness. With a renewed courage due to my successful attempt at completing my mission I stood up confident and proud to look over the valley beneath me. I could see Zelda’s house and Miss Sadie’s house and the adjacent fields. I felt like a king over my domain. They all looked so small from up here. I stood there confident and posed and closed my eyes as the sun on my face felt amazing then everything stopped and I mean suddenly stopped. No birds and no wind. A chill came over me and for whatever reason I decided to look behind me. I could see some of the grave stones and didn’t realize that I was this close to the top. I knew that I should go down now but I wanted to visit my namesake’s grave and visit Tommy. I didn’t think it would hurt to pay some respect to a family member’s grave that I had so much in common with.
I decided to go to the top anyway and even
though I was disobeying orders, I just had to do this. The graveyard was small
and surrounded by a fence of stacked stones. One after the other the stones
made a large square around the barrier of the graves. I had come this far so
why not step over? The grave markers
were modest and simple and carved with unprofessional tools. Someone had
obviously put a lot of love into these memorials. I would say that there were no
more than fifteen to twenty graves present and there in the middle was Tommy’s gravestone. It was pristine and well kept; void of
overgrowth and well cared for. I say all
this because I need to note that the other graves in the family cemetery were
broken, thrown about or vandalized. Some graves were missing head stones and
some of the graves had been opened as well. You could literally see the caskets
beneath the cracked stones. This looked like a scene from a horror movie but
this scene was very real. There were no actors and there were no cameras. I was
standing in a cemetery that had been vandalized and robbed. In my right mind I couldn’t figure out who
would do such a thing or why but at least Tommy’s was undisturbed. The only
thing I found weird about Tommy’s plot is that there were two dead squirrels
that were placed behind his headstone. They looked as if they had just crawled
there and went to sleep and died. They looked like they were at peace to me,
but don’t ask me why. Maybe Tommy liked
squirrels and someone placed them there to remember him. I felt that I should
do the something similar. Without thought I took five of the largest and
plumpest (black) berries that I had in my bowl and placed them directly on the
letter “O” in Tommy’s name. I made a circle to match the shape of that letter
on the flat gravestone. I then chose a big red berry for the center to signify
love and remembrance. It looked pretty
and I was pleased with my efforts. I knew that birds would no doubt eat my
offering, but I wanted to show an act of kindness. When I began to walk away I
heard what I today can only remember as a slight sigh or growl, but it
petrified me none the less. I walked away quickly and didn’t look back because
if something was watching me, I didn’t want to know. I certainly made it down the hill much faster than I had climbed it and unfortunately lost a few berries along the way, but I made it down safely. I still don’t know why I was so scared or why my family insisted on me avoiding something as simple as a graveyard. It was only a matter of time before I found out why. I went inside the house and I placed my offering of goodness on the center of the table and waited for Miss Sadie to find them and find them she did. I was hoping for more of a surprise or cry of happiness but instead she cried out to my father using his first and middle name and had never heard that before. “James Carter come here quickly and bring the little one”. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me sternly and said “Where did you get these?” Where? Tell me now and be truthful with me”. My dad just looked on in fear. I began by telling her that I went to visit Zelda and that she gave me this bowl and that was as far as I got in my explanation before she sat down and let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, you got these from Zelda? Ok, sorry sweetie. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go up that darn hill”. I couldn’t tell her. Her reaction was frightful. I thought it best to let her think that Zelda had given the berries to me. This way she wouldn’t worry about me climbing the hill and I wouldn’t have to deal with the punishment from disobeying two adults. The day had come to a close and our last meal had ended. The morning would soon come and we would be off on our way again. At least this time we would travel in daylight and that calmed my nerves. We sat and talked about school and the coming holidays and anything else that crossed our minds. My uncle was going to be alright so everyone seemed at ease. I don’t know how time flew by so quickly but it did and the long days activities and solid meal we had consumed just weighed me down. I was beginning to yawn and the weights of my eyelids were beginning to win the fight. We have come to the last night of our visit and this is the night that remains with me to this day. It is the most gut wrenching night in my past. This experience startled me in many non-descript ways and what I have to share with you is completely accurate and without dramatization, fabrication or additives. I don’t feel that anything else is needed here other than the truth. The truth is far more bizarre than anything that I could create on my own. The night was quiet and as I lay there in
the bed I could hear the creek outside and the water as it flowed was peacefully
and tranquilly by the house. No birds, no cars and nothing to distract you from
sleeping other than the occasional cricket here or there and the water rushing
over the rocks. I enjoyed the previous night’s rest so this
one should feel equally as restful. I laid there drowsy and sleepy eyed. I fell
asleep quickly and was in a dead sleep for a quite a few hours until the sound
of what seemed like footsteps walking across the bridge over the creek forced
me to awaken. This bridge was built by my father's eldest brother years and
years ago. It was strong and sturdy but it quickly notified you of anything or anyone
walking across it. I know that I heard feet walking across the
bridge this night. I initially tried to look out my window but it was far too
dark to see the bridge in any capacity. I lay back down and I told myself that
I was just hearing things in the night and that my mind had created this false
sensation. After all, I was the only one awake or so I thought. I was wrong. I
was very wrong. Within moments after I heard the feet walking over the bridge I
then heard something wrestling through the grass and my entire body began to
shake. There WAS something there and it was coming. Something was making its
way toward me and there was nothing I could do except for pray that it go away. My father lay across the room from me in his
twin bed snoring peacefully and unaware of the stress I was under. I was
uncontrollably shaking and wanted to cry out but for fear of making noise or
drawing attention to myself I remained still and silent. Then the night turned
into a full-blown nightmare as the sounds of feet rushing through the grass
dissipated into large heavy breathing cycles. Large drawn out inhales followed
by extended breathy exhales filled the air and consumed everything around it. A
very distinct and unforgettable odor accompanied this visitor and I am likely
never to forget that smell. I
was sure of it …There was something outside my window now and it was breathing,
and looking in and watching. Part of me just kept my face covered with my sheet
and yet I was still so very curious to see what this was. Internally I knew
that there was nothing to be concerned about because the entire house is a good
four to six feet off the ground and my window is another two feet up from
there. My mind must be playing tricks on me. So if all this was only in my mind and there was actually nothing to be afraid of then it wouldn’t hurt for me to take a glance out the window and verify what was NOT happening. My adolescent curiosity got the best of me and it forced me to do something (that I now as an adult) regret having done. I laid there and silently counted to ten backwards and I told myself that if I still heard breathing after I got to one that I would get up and take a fast but thorough look out the window and end this madness and go back to sleep. I knew that it must be a deer that had gotten lost in the valley and made its way onto the property. I was sure of this. This was one of the creative ideas that I constructed to help me combat the unknown. So, I counted down. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6 and as I continued to count I would slow down my numeral descent because I knew what it would mean once I got to the final number. 5, 4, 3 and with the number three I grabbed my little flashlight that my father had previously given me and prepare to jump up. It was conveniently kept close to me for comfort. It now lay very close to my heart and I prepared to look into the darkness. Then 2 and 1, the time came for me to spring into action. I grabbed the flashlight and violently threw my sheets in the air and turned to the window and placed my flashlight there against the screen and without hesitation turned it on. What I saw was the most horrifying face that
anyone could ever imagine or create. I will forever remember this image and never
forget it for the rest of my life. As I turned on my flashlight and there in
front of me was a large face filled with dark brown hair and piercing eyes dark
as coal. When my light hit the eyes of this creature it yelled out and released
a dreadful piercing scream. Not only did I startle the creature but I made it
angry as well. It shook the frame of the window screen with a force that woke everyone in the house. I don't know if this was an attempt to reach me or terrify me but then the creature quickly and without warning sliced its hand across the screen making four very large permanent slash marks that went from the right of the screen down to the bottom left. I ran into the living room and fell on the floor screaming and yelling and curled myself into a ball crying “Please make it stop” “Please make it stop”. It all happened so quickly. Soon my grandmother ran out of her bedroom
with a shotgun, threw open the front door and ran off down the porch and into
the yard in the dark and began shooting and screaming. “You are not welcome
here”. “Get out, Get out, It’s not Tommy, Leave us alone”. I still don't know what or if she hit
anything at all but she was aware of something and she was prepared. She spoke
to it as though this were not their first encounter. I was stunned and I
couldn't speak. I couldn't cry. I just sat there trembling hysterically. My father closed the window to cover the
cut marks and I was encouraged to go back to bed. “Whatever that was son will not return, get
some rest.” I laid there in a cold
zombie-like state. A few hours later a cry would be heard in the distance that
sounded similar to a combination of a woman giving birth and a dog being run
over by the car. It was a terrifying howl and it seemed as though it was
directly next to my head. Lastly, I heard a huge thump on the side of the house
as though a large bird had just run into the house unaware. This sound didn't
affect my family in any degree but I heard it and I felt it to the core of my
being. The next morning after we awoke we were all
calmer and at ease. No one acted as though anything had happened the night
before, but something inside me gave me the impression that my grandmother knew
that the berries I had given her were in fact from the hillside and not Zelda’s
home. As my family packed and prepared to leave I decided to walk outside and look at the side of the house where my window was located. I felt like it was safe to go outside because it was morning time after all. I walked out the front door onto the porch and down the steps and immediately was overcome by that same stench I was unfamiliar with from the night before. The odor only grew stronger as I approached
the window. I finally stood there in front of the window and there beneath the
window on the ground was a decapitated animal. It had been mauled and severely
attacked and even partially eaten and then thrown against the house. There was
blood smeared everywhere. There was even blood on the screen, but I couldn’t
see the entire screen due to the fact of the height of the window itself. I
looked up at the screen and I could see some of the claw marks in the screen
and then my fear was realized because if I was able to see a face in the middle
of my screen then whatever was at my window had to have been between 8 to 10 ft
tall. I remembered the scream of a terrified woman although it was deep and
solid and had volume to it. I went back into the house to view the screen from
inside but I didn’t dare open the window for fear of letting the smell in the
house. To this day I am uncomfortable with what I
saw there on the ledge outside of the window. I am left unsure. I remember my grandmother
telling me not to mess with the cemetery at the top of the hill and I wonder if
I had irritated something up there and this was its way of showing its anger.
We left that day and I don't remember any portion of the drive on the way back.
I was still traumatized. I am still unsure of what I encountered. Of course, in
lieu of looking stupid and crazy I never shared this story with anyone because
I knew that people would question my honesty. Now, 40 years later I have
nothing to fear. Sometimes at night I still see and smell this dreadful animal and
I remember its face peering into me and screaming and yelling and shaking the
frame of the window with anger. It scares me to this day to think that I may
have been victimized or even taken. I have never gone back to that house. I never visited my grandmother again and I never saw my friend Zelda at the top of the hill but I truly feel that they were aware of this creature and they knew of him. My grandmother and father and Zelda have all since passed away and no one remains to verify my nightmare but this sadly is my true story. This was my honest and truthful dealings with something unnatural. Oh, and what did I find outside on the window sill of the house? There before me lay a circle of five black berries with one red berry in the center placed exactly how I had left it on Tommy’s grave… I will never know. .......... You can reach Chris at: [email protected] for any additional query related to this incident. © 2018 ayesha cullenReviews
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