Don't Listen

To start I'll tell you that my favorite pastime is swinging on a swing. Preferably at night when no one can see or find me, being my only means of escape from the tortures of a large family. (Some people climb onto the roof when they need to be alone, I swing.) My swing set is in the backyard of our old house underneath a huge tree that I climb during the day. The yard is covered in bushes, fruit trees, and horse pastures. It's a very beautiful little place with light, but at night it's very quiet and rather morbid with it's antique design. (My house was built in the early 1900s). So all in all, I have a dark and sinister looking house on my right, a horse pasture with a looming tree on my left, and an enormous pine tree that grows higher than any house on the street with a failing street lamp glowing between it's drooping branches. Our yard is a labyrinth!

It was 3:00 am, I had woken up as usual with no particular reason besides the fact that I couldn't sleep for another minute without getting some energy out. I threw off the covers, put on a pair of pajama pants, and made my way out the backdoor and around all the bushes. I had just sat down on my swing, taking a quick look around to make sure that none of the lights in the house had turned on, when I heard the horse in the pasture on my left. I watched him run off to the other side of the pasture and stare back at me, clearly spooked, but I decided it was because I had started to swing and he wasn't expecting anyone to be there.

I was a little nervous none-the-less because the fact that the horse was there every night meant that no scary spectors were hanging about. (My house has a history of ghosts and I tend to ignore anything I find suspicious) I depend very heavily on animal's sixth sense because they are so much more in tune than I am. In fact, I couldn't even find my cat that night either, another reason to be paranoid. But of course I ignored it not wanting to provoke the spirits or anything.

Soon, the street lamp flickered out. I stared at the pine tree ahead of me in alarm, very worried that my only light source had just flashed out, when I saw some movement by the side of the house. A human form was jumping between the shadows on the house's side. It looked like a shadow itself, as though someone was running through the pasture right next to me. I didn't like this, considering that I obviously don't want to see the ghosts because I ignore them constantly, so I slammed my feet into the ground. I stopped faster than I thought I would and nearly fell over, I grabbed the side of the swing set and spun around to face the back pasture. The red fence that surrounded that one was covered with shadows, and yet another shadowy form jumped between it's patches of black. I felt someone watching me from behind and quickly picked up pace to get inside.

I reached my door, flicked on the porch light and immediately felt relieved. I took a moment to collect myself and blamed all of the incidents on my fear of the dark. However, before going inside I wanted to get my cat and have him sleep with me so that I wasn't alone. Facing my door and not the dark shapes of the yards bushes and trees behind me I called to him. "Kitty Kitty Kitty!" I waited, and felt a pang of fear when my calls echoed back. My cat is usually in hearing distance and never takes long to come. Again, I ignored my fear and called again. This time I got an answer. "Come 'ere Baby!" and right behind me, as though the man was standing right there.... a deep, commanding voice said....
"Yes, come here!"
I spun around, ready to take on what I thought was my brother, but there was nothing there. I spun in circles twice before giving into fear. I backed up to the door, desperate to have my cat come and let me know that everything was okay.
"KITTY!! KITTY!! Come HERE Kitty!!" again, the man in front of me this time, trying to coax me out into the yard, into the dark....
"Yes, come HERE!!"
I almost ran right inside, but was afraid to turn my back on the voice. I stared at nothing for an eternity before my cat streaked up and nestled between my quaking legs, looking stiff and ready for attack. He was glaring at precisely the same place that the voice seemed to be coming from. I allowed him to watch my back as I turned to open the door, I scooped him up, turned off the light, slammed and locked the door, then ran into my bedroom where my cat relaxed and curled up in the crook of my arm as I fell back to sleep.

I leave the porch light on every night now, so that when the street lamp goes out, (which is has only done twice since the first experience) I can run to the light and not have to wade through pitch black shadow to find my way inside.