I’m going to tell you a story from when I was much younger. I used to live on a farm, as many of my generation did in those days. I remember this day vividly. I was about nine years old, and I was wandering through the fields on my family’s farm, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air. I loved exploring the farm, looking for new places to play and new things to discover. But on that day, I stumbled upon something that I wish I could forget.
As I walked through the long grass, I heard a faint voice in the distance. It was a child’s voice, not unlike my own, calling for help. I couldn’t quite make out what it was saying, but with all the curiosity that filled my little nine-year-old body, I had to investigate. I followed the voice until I came upon a burlap sack lying on the ground, its neck closed with twine.
The voice was coming from inside the bag, and it was desperate. “Hey, kid! Please help me,” it said. “I’m trapped in here.”
I was hesitant at first, but the voice sounded so scared and so much like my own that I couldn’t ignore it. I approached the bag and asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m a kid, just like you,” the voice replied. “Some bullies put me in here and left me.”
As I looked at the sack, I noticed that it was moving slightly, as if someone was inside, struggling to get free. I almost felt like laughing, because this was such a strange situation, but I knew I had to help this poor kid, whoever he was.
Without hesitation, I reached for the twine that was keeping the bag closed. But then, something stopped me. It was a feeling, a sense of unease that came over me like a wave. I couldn’t explain it, but something just didn’t feel right.
The voice from inside the bag must have sensed my hesitation. “Please, hurry,” it begged. “I don’t want to be stuck in here anymore.”
But I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. “How did you get in there?” I asked, hoping to distract myself from my growing unease.
“I told you, some older boys put me in here and left me,” the voice replied. “I don’t know why they did it. Please, just help me.”
I took a step closer to the bag, my hand reaching for the twine again. I paused once more, examining the knot for a moment. But then, the voice from inside the bag said something that made my blood run cold.
“Why did you stop?” it asked.
I froze. How did the voice know that I had stopped? It couldn’t see out of the bag, and there was no way it could have known that I had hesitated. The feeling of unease I had been feeling grew stronger, and I suddenly knew I was in danger.
I turned and ran as fast as I could. The voice from inside the bag screeched after me, and I could hear the bag hopping furiously as whatever was inside there tried to get out with all its might.
When I got home, I was shaking and out of breath. I told my dad what had happened, and he immediately went to investigate. We walked back to where I had found the bag, but when we got there, there was nothing there but a circle of blackened grass.
My dad tried to explain it away as some kind of natural occurrence, but I knew what I had heard and what I had felt. That incident has stayed with me for a long time, haunting my thoughts and dreams. I never forgot the feeling of fear that had washed over me when I realized the voice could see me, and I always wonder what would have happened if I had untied that twine and released whatever it was inside that bag.