Last month, something very strange happened. My four friends and I went to a local haunted area for a scare and to kill an evening. It was about 9:00 p.m., so it was as dark as it was going to get for the night. We were arriving at the spot when it started to get extremely foggy to the point where you could hardly see in front of you, definitely the scene for a scary evening.
We started to slow down to park, and I saw a look of terror on my friend’s face, a look of terror that no one can fake. He then said “accelerate” in a tone that both intrigued and terrified me at the same time. Without really thinking, I just sped up about ten miles per hour faster than I had been going, just assuming that the spot we were in scared him a bit.
As we went farther up the road, the restlessness that he felt only proceeded to get worse. At this point I just wanted to get out of where we were, as his fear was beginning to rub off on me. As I continued to pick up speed, I saw what had scared him so bad. I had only seen it for a split second before I heard the crunches and felt the car go over a bump that no one would want to acknowledge, but was impossible to ignore.
I panicked in a way that I never had before, and stopped the car with such force that we all jerked forward into what was in front of us. Ignoring the pain with adrenaline and shock, we got out to inspect what my fear and carelessness had done, and after seeing what was there, I wish I had kept driving. The “man” was lying in a pool of blood, his chest flattened from one line of wheels, and his feet flattened from the other line. It was a sight that I knew would stick in my mind as well as my friends’ for as long as we shall all live.
After the disgust and horror we all witnessed, I convinced everyone to get back into the car. Once we all got into the car, the weather had completely cleared as if a tension in the area had been relieved. I had no choice but to take all of my friends home with the scars that I knew would haunt them for the rest of their lives. On the way home, no one spoke of the gore that we had just witnessed, and I had no problem with that.
I felt like there had been a presence following us, but I just brushed it off as shock and went on with my driving. I dropped off all of my friends, making them promise that the event would never be spoken of to anyone. I then made my way to my house to cleanse my car of the horror that it had endured. I hosed my tires and bumper off, then went into the house to take a shower.
I still had the feeling of a presence, which had begun to give me a very unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I knew that it was just guilt. Guilt is the mind’s form of karmic retribution; no one can completely get away with something. I went to bed once I got out of the shower, hoping that I could sleep this terrible night from existence. It took about 2 hours for me to finally fall asleep, but that would be the worst mistake of my life.
I woke up about 3 hours later to the worst sight of my life. At the foot of my bed, I saw the face of my accident. Sitting no more than 2 feet away from me was the personification of fear. His body was mangled. His chest was flattened along with the lower half of his legs. He sensed my being awake through my fear, and turned to look at me. He had no eyes, but the sockets showed all of the pain and anger that he felt. This was coupled, however, with a sick sense of amusement that he got from the control that he had over my sanity.
He lunged for me, getting within mere inches from my face. Even though he had no eyes, I still felt as though he could see right into my very light of existence. He then whispered in a tone of pure terror “Forever…” and crawled out of my room. I ran out of my house into my car and drove. I drove for six hours straight, well into the daytime. I don’t know what that creature was, but I do know that he will be forever with me, with me as a constant reminder of how fear and panic can ruin one’s life.