Look, I’m not gonna start a blog post dedicated to weird and awful experiences that have happened to me, nor will I write a book about paranormal activities I’ve witnessed. In truth, my life has been pretty mundane up until this point. I mean, I won’t lie to you guys. Sure, I’m superstitious and religious, but that belief is based purely on faith, not evidence.
Well, a little context probably wouldn’t hurt would it? I live at the end of a rather small neighborhood. The woods and a house awaiting purchase are all that exist behind my home, and ahead of it is a rather lifeless street of maybe a half dozen houses. I swear to you the homeowners of said places are almost never there, but I suppose that’s what a nine-to-five job does to an adult. Truthfully, I find the barren landscape calming and soothing for the most part. There’s a strange feeling of comfort that comes with limited isolation, and that’s as best as I can describe it really.
There was, however, one night in particular that shook things up a bit, for lack of better words. Now, for a night so important to me and the events of this story, I find it odd I can’t seem to remember the exact date. For some reason, I found myself up until almost midnight. My parents were tired and, of course, told me not to stay up too late. Furthermore, I remember them asking me to take the dogs out before I went to bed. I was much obliged to do so in return for staying up late, so I promised I would. After some watching a bit of Netflix, my eyes wandered down to the clock within the tv box. It had been almost an hour since my parents had gone to bed. I rubbed my eyes and felt a bit tired myself, so I grabbed my dogs’ leashes and took them outside to walk.