Don’t walk late at night in Mexico

I have been listening to your stories for a while now. Since then, I’ve been wanting to send you a story my dad told us about. I just couldn’t find the courage to send it in. But I think now is the right time. I’ll tell you the story from my dad’s point of view. Here goes…

I was about 19 or 20 years old when this happened. It happened one night in my village in Guanajuato, Mexico. I was out drinking and playing cards with a couple of friends. After a few hours, it had gotten real late. I believe it was 12 or 1 am in the morning. Anyways, I said my goodbyes and started to walk to your grandmas house. The night was earily quiet and dark. But I was a bit drunk, so it didn’t bother me too much.

As I was walking up the path to get home. I felt as if something was looking at me. I thought it was just my tipsy state. But something told me to turn around. As soon as I did, I regretted that decision.

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