Scary Story To Tell In The Dark

Happy Friday! I had planned for this upcoming blog to be of a garden I went to. It's a beautiful area with flowers spread out in almost every part of it. Along with fountains, crystal blue water, and some dazzling statues. I figured it would be a nice light and charming change compared to my usual posts. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted all the photos off of my camera. I went to the gardens to take some new photos, but they were closing right as I arrived and I couldn't finish. That blog will come out though.

The same night, I felt defeated for not getting new photos, and my dog was getting restless. My husband and I decided to take her to the dog park even though it was dark out. What I found in the darkness was a hiking trail that looked much more mysterious without daylight shining itself into it. I took some photos in the forest while going through this path. It was an eerie experience, and I fully expected Slender Man to jump out at me. Yet, there's also something mystical about the woods at night. It's has a enchanting, mystifying mood to it. So I figured with the post, you could take a walk with me through these shadowy woods, and I'll tell you a scary story. The scariest experience I've gone through to be frank. On a rainy, stormy night such as this, I think it's the perfect time to tell it.

When I was a young child, about six or seven, I played outside alone a lot. I sometimes just played with chalk, or rode my scooter around, but most times I'd sit in my backyard around the wild dandelions and just dream. It was just a normal day like that.

Where I grew up, it was about sixty degrees year round. Most days had thick fog all day, or rain, and it was almost always windy. I love that weather to this day. I remember on that particular day I was annoyed because it was sunny. Nonetheless, I still went outside and tried to enjoy the day.

I lived in a house with a big lot. I'd say about half an acre. My parents had a tent trailer parked in the back, and I often liked to sit near it while I drew on the cement with my chalk. Right next to the trailer though, was my neighbor's property. They had a forest as their backyard. Long, enormous trees loomed over our property and created shadows on the whole right side of the yard. We had a chain link fence separating the multitude of pine trees, and maybe a few redwoods, that constantly darkened half of my parents property. That day I was sitting near our trailer, with the trees to my right, as I drew with my chalk. I remember I enjoyed being under the shade because the sun was out. I wasn't scared, the most I was worried about from my neighbors side was foxes and skunks, and even then we had a fence separating the properties.

I suddenly had a feeling to go look through the squares of the chain link fence. I don't know why. Sometimes I would just like to stare into the woods next door and see if I saw any wild animals, so it was probably just that. I stared into the darkness for a few minutes, mesmerized with trying to see all of the details in the brush and trees. No one was outside. My dad was at work, my sister was inside watching TV, and my mom was cleaning the house - I was completely alone.

Then I heard it. A shrieking whisper that said, "Virginia." It was unlike any voice I've ever heard before. It was faint, but strong. Like a child's voice hissed my name. It may not sound scary, but the feelings that came with it were. Every hair on me stood up, it was like my animal instincts kicked in. Then, something in my throat went off. I don't know how to explain it, but if you were to put every negative emotion into one cluster, that's what I felt in my throat. It was like an elaborate knot had tied itself inside the back of my throat. I had the sudden urge to puke. I can't quite put into words all that it felt like, I guess the best I can describe the feeling in the back of my throat, was it felt evil. I started coughing and gagging, then booked it inside. I felt shaken and scared. I cried, but didn't know who to tell or how to describe what had happened.

I can hear you now. "That doesn't sound scary," or "it was probably your neighbors messing with you." I'll try to debunk the second one. These neighbors were an older couple who weren't jokesters. The husband was usually gone and liked his privacy, and I doubt he could have made such a high pitched, hissing sound. The wife has always had walking problems and just liked to be left alone as well, and I also don't think her voice could have made had such a childlike sound to it. Their house was very far away from where I was and there was no reason they would have walked that far into the trees. I stood there for a few moments as my 'fight or flight' mode was charging up, so they had plenty of time to tell me it was them.  You may still think it was them, but the chances are slim. Though, a part of me wishes it was them.

On the note of it not sounding scary, you're right. It doesn't sound scary. It felt terrifying though. I've never experienced such a wicked aura, and you can't possibly understand the feeling unless you've felt it yourself. If you haven't felt it, I pray you never will. If you have, you'll see it reasonable as to why I can't describe such an evil feeling.  It was the greatest paranormal fear I've experienced so far in my life.

So there's my story. I sometimes think of it when I'm covered in shadows, looking into the darkness of the forest. I often wonder what it was, and why I experienced it. I've heard the stories now of skinwalkers, black eyed children, stick Indians, and wonder if it could have been any of those. Perhaps it was bigfoot, I know he likes hanging around Northern California. I pray it was something logical, like the wind hitting the branches of the trees a certain way and my imagination took over the rest. Or my neighbors having a laugh and messing with me. Yet deep down, I know it was something more sinister. I've hiked and camped a lot in my life, and I continued to play outside (it took me about a week to go back out after this incident though) through my childhood, and I've never gone through anything like that again.

I'm thankful I can look into the illuminated woods now and not just think of that ominous memory. I see Earth in a slumber now. I see the animals in the woods getting their rest, or their meal, depending on if they're nocturnal. I see God letting the whole forest sleep, renewing the cycle every day. I suppose life is what we choose to see and feel in it. We can choose to see the emptiness between the stars, or we can see the brightness they radiate.

 "Remember, darkness does not always equate to evil, just as light does not always bring good" - P.C. Cast.