My First Time Camping With Friends

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Hi there Mr. Darkness, sorry to gush but I listen to your videos every day while I paint or play WoW and your voice really soothes me after the godawful noise of working in a classroom all day! So this is a handy opportunity to say thank you, and when I finally qualify and get a real wage I shall be tipping you handsomely my dear chap <3

My name is Alice, I am currently 25 and I live in Essex, England. Contrary to some of the common stereotypes of those from my county, I am a spiritual and empathetic person and I have always been sensitive to energies around me. It wasn’t until I got older that I realised that not everybody sees what I see! All my life I have seen & experienced strange phenomena, with the occasional shard of particularly heavy memories coming back to me of yet more events that I have yet to fully put together. Listening to your videos has inspired me to write them down properly, which has also really helped me get past a few things, but also reminded me of a completely seperate, un-paranormal experience which was no less horrifying in its own way, from when I first went camping with friends.

I was 19 when, in April 2012, my (male) best friend invited me to go camping with him, the workmate that he fancied and some of her friends. I knew the main reason for him inviting me was because I could drive but he was also my beloved bro from another ho and I got on with those whom I had met, so I said I was game. Even when I discovered my ex and his new girlfriend were coming, I was still excited as they were both genuinely nice people and there were no negative feelings. Although to be fair, she probably felt more comfortable due to me being known as ‘Big Gay Al’ for the whole weekend, a deal i’d made with my friend as people always suspect us to be a couple and, as the workmate he fancied was the jealous type, he didn’t want any doubt.

So all that aside, we loaded up my tiny old Nova and my exes car and set off to the New Forest. Our drive was lairy but a laugh and, after turning up at the wrong campsite, finally rolled into the right place. We stayed Friday, Saturday and Sunday night to drive home Monday. Friday and Saturday went by undramatically, and we had great fun exploring the area and having bbq’s etc.

We decided not to set up in the open field area with loads of tents and noise, opting for a clearing edged by trees on three sides just down a (also tree lined) stony lane maybe 800 yards off the main field. There were just two other camps down here, spaced far apart from each other, presumably types after some peace and quiet like us. The rest of my group really ballsed up at setting up the tent and their airbeds, so they all froze night after night lying a few mm from liquid mud. But that’s camping in England in the spring for you. I decided fuck that and slept in my car each night, achey back be damned. Sunday morning I groggily creaked out of my car, grabbing my washbag and things and starting to totter off to the loos (which are at the top of the treeless slope that part of the lane edges as it curves into the clearing) half awake. Some short fat guy comes waddling down the lane, he sees me start to walk around my car and looks livid. I made brief eye contact with him, see his rage and assume he’s something to do with one of the other camps behind us. It’s too early for any of that so I look away and start towards the toilets. I hear him shout and don’t make him out, I have tinnitus and he wasn’t super close yet. He shouts again, getting my attention and speeds up toward me. “YOU CAN ALL GET OUT RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE, YOU’RE NOT WELCOME HERE”
I stop and blink. Whats he on about? He continues shouting, gaining attention from all camps now. He starts raving on about me driving doughnuts around the mini roundabout near the reception, for speeding up and down the road that runs down the camping fields and various other dangerous driving offenses. Considering it was about 7am and I had literally just woken, I was speechless and actually nearly laughed. I tried to maintain composure and politeness, despite his intimidating approach, and explained that it could not have been me, i’m clearly barely awake and still in my jim-jams. He calls me a liar, my car is quite unusual to see nowadays and tends to stand out. He insists that it can only have been this car, theres no others here like it and I can argue as much as I want but he knows i’m lying.
“It was definitely you, you’re coming with me while I call the police”
On the point of losing my already-stretched temper and suddenly starting to feel like this could get serious, I desperately rack my brain for a way to clear my name.
I turn defiantly and firmly shout “Fine, touch the bonnet”
We both do at the same time, and it is gratifyingly cool to the touch.
“If i’d been speeding around, the engine would be hot and the metal bonnet would be heated. It was not me or this car”
His lip curled as he stared at the bonnet for nearly a minute, his hand still resting there. In his eyes I could see him realising I was correct, but also a look of concentration, of him trying to find another way to pin the blame on me. Then, with a flounce and a mumbled word warning me about if he catches me ‘again’, he stormed off back up the lane. No one knew how to react and the whole clearing had an atmosphere for a while. No one recognised him as staff and he did not wear a uniform, but this probably doesn’t mean much. No staff approached me all day and this would eventually go forgotten after the events of the night and next morning.

We shook off the incident and enjoyed our last full day there, and the entire campground had a particularly cheery atmosphere as the evening was nice and the smell of bbqs and ale hung everywhere. At about 1am the others retired to their tent and I laid back in the front passenger seat, the window half rolled open while I wound down for the night and enjoyed the bliss of nature. It was pretty dark in our clearing and I started to drift off, enjoying the cool breeze rolling through my window. Suddenly, a long, terrible scream fills the air and everything seems to turn to ice. I freeze in my sleeping bag, shocked and waiting for something to happen. I hear a wailing sound, terrible and pitiful, shrieking twice more before stopping. I shiver in my seat, paralysed. Gradually, I very slowly extend my hand and roll my window up, confirming all my doors are definitely locked. I sat still for a long time, twitching when I saw movement rustling amongst the trees on the far side of the clearing. My eyes darted around, waiting to see some lunatic come running out or god knows what else. Silence fell over the camp, the atmosphere tense and heavy.

Somehow, I fell asleep. It might not have even been that long after, I had no clock for reference and only realised I had fallen asleep when I woke up again. Checking my phone, I saw it was quarter past 4 in the morning and peered forward to see what had woken me. A helicopter was flying over the woods casting a beam of light here and there, a police car was parked not too far from us and when I cracked my window open a little I could hear the sounds of more vehicles not too far off. I decided to stay in my car, unsure of quite what to do. Texting amongst each other, I explained what was going on and we all settled on packing up, but leaving took ages. When we emerged from the stony lane we found the site to be crawling with more police, and no one was allowed to leave until they had answered several questions. All they told us was that someone had died and they needed any information available. I told them about the screams and the rest had nothing to add, having slept through it, and we were allowed to go. We decided to drive straight home, the atmosphere quiet and sombre, a stark change from the drive there. This wasn’t helped by me accidentally taking the wrong direction on the M25 and considerably lengthening our journey, but hey, at least we didn’t have to deal with the Dartford Crossing.

We later discovered that a large family had gone away for big birthday weekend and had thrown a bbq. When the little girl got sleepy, they tucked her up in her tent and went back to their party. Her mother had gotten concerned that she would get cold, so she put the used bbq in the tent to keep her warm. When they checked in on her a few hours later, she had asphyxiated and sadly passed on. The screams I had heard were that of her mother discovering her lifeless body, and to this day it chills my blood when I think about it. Sometimes it comes unbidden to my mind, the terrible sound of raw, painful emotion and unimaginable horror.

Later that year my friend got with his workmate but split after a couple of years so I don’t see her any more, and me and my friend haven’t really discussed since. What is there to say or add? I told very few people about this at the time, as it was an unpleasant memory that I didn’t want to spoil an otherwise good trip and I didn’t want to seem disrespectful to the girls’ memory. The New Forest is a wonderful and magical place to visit and this experience didn’t spoil it for me, but whenever I see something mention the New Forest my mind always wanders to that little girl and her family. RIP chickie.

Thanks for letting me waffle on, this is my first time actually submitting an experience for someone else to read! I’m excited to share my other experiences in the future, but writing it all down is going to take some time literally and emotionally!

Thanks for listening and take care all of you <3

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