I have insomnia. It’s a curse, really. When the rest of the world falls asleep, I’m left alone with my thoughts. I decided to spend a few nights alone at my parents’ cottage, hoping the change of scenery would do me some good. But last night, it only made things worse.
I couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard I tried. The darkness outside was oppressive, and the silence was deafening. Even my cat Lucy, who usually cuddles up to me and purrs me to sleep, seemed restless. And then, around 5 or 6 am, it happened.
I heard a voice, faint at first, but growing louder and more urgent with each passing second.
“Help!”
It sounded like an old man, and the desperation in his voice was palpable. I felt a chill run down my spine. I wasn’t used to hearing anything other than the gentle sound of the wind or the rustling of the trees.
I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing. Should I go outside and investigate? What if it was some kind of trap? But my conscience got the best of me, and I decided to check it out.
I walked to the patio door, feeling like I was moving through molasses. The air was cold and biting, and the darkness was like a physical presence.
“Help!”
The voice was louder now, coming from somewhere out there in the blackness. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
What I saw chilled me to the bone. There was a fresh layer of snow on the ground, and it was pristine except for a set of footprints leading away from the forest and towards the lake. But there were no footprints coming back.
I felt a wave of fear wash over me. What kind of person or creature could make a set of footprints leading in one direction, and then disappear? My heart raced as I scanned the area for any sign of the old man, but there was nothing.
Suddenly, I remembered the stories my grandparents used to tell me about the skinwalkers, a type of evil spirit that could take on the shape of any animal. I shuddered, remembering the legends of how they would lure people into the darkness, using their voices to lead them to their doom.
I quickly shut the patio door, locking it tight, and retreated to the safety of my room. I tried to calm myself down, telling myself that it was just my imagination getting the better of me. But the image of those footprints, leading to the middle of the lake, haunted me for the rest of the night
I can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right. I just saw something, something that I can’t explain. Was it real or just my imagination? I don’t know. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, or my mind playing tricks on me. But it felt so real, so tangible. The fear that gripped me was all too real. I keep replaying the scene over and over in my head, trying to make sense of it. But the more I think about it, the less sure I am. Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was there really something out there.