To say my cousin and I never got exactly got along would be about the same as saying ‘some people just aren’t fond of pineapple on their pizza’, technically true, also a vast understatement. Every summer whenever my siblings and I would go visit my aunt and uncle, he would make certain to make my life a living hell as much as he could the entire time. Not so much that he’d get in trouble. Oh, no. He was just smart enough to not go that far. It didn’t help that my aunt thought the little shit was an angel.
The last summer I ever saw my cousin was no different. A week into the visit and my brothers were having a blast. Me? Not so much. I just wanted to read my books, maybe listen to music. But no. Nooo, all week long all I’d heard from that asshole was ‘don’t be a pussy, Taylor.’. Every time they tried to get me to go outside.
I got hardly any peace dodging those three and very little time to read as a result. And when I wasn’t dodging them I was having to explain to my aunt and uncle why I didn’t want to go outside. You’d think after four summers of this they’d have gotten the message to just let me read. But nope. That was wishful thinking.
It was around this same time that my cousin decided it would be a great idea to go on an ‘adventure’ out to the old well with my brothers, and gosh, why didn’t I come along? When I, of course, said no he just pitched the idea straight to my aunt who, thankfully, also said no.
This…didn’t go over well with my cousin though. His goal had been, well, honestly fuck if I know, but whatever it was he didn’t get to do it so now not only was he pissed off he’d gone from regular irritating to advanced irritating.
It only took two days of him fucking around with my books, snidely commenting on my being a pussy, and generally being a complete and utter ass before I finally broke and agreed to go to the old well. This, of course, cheered him right up. He was getting his way after all.
The next night after everyone went to sleep, and no matter how much I asked why my brothers weren’t coming, or hell why we had to go at night even, he refused to say. Now I’m not stupid. I was suspicious in the extreme. But I was also tired as hell of the constant harassment and willing to put up with him trying to scare me or whatever the hell if it meant he’d give me a few moments of peace this summer.
The walk to the well was…it was surprisingly peaceful. Nothing jumped out at me, he didn’t try to ditch me, and I didn’t fall into any holes. So my guard had dropped a little by the time we reached our destination.
The moment I caught sight of it though, said guard ratcheted back up and tried to build a fucking fort. The well was, hell I don’t know. It looked like a normal, old-fashioned well. It was actually kind of cute. Had a little roof over it, and a handle for hauling up the bucket, pretty grey stones that made up the well itself.
But the feeling around it though, it was off, wrong. You know that ‘I’m in danger’ meme? That is exactly how I felt right in that moment. I was very much in danger and I had no goddamned idea why, or where from.
That was when my cousin opened his mouth, telling me to climb down and see what was at the bottom. I, of course, cordially invited him to go fuck himself. Because there was no way in any hell you might believe in that I was going to the bottom of that well.
That was when he got…pushy, and pulled out a knife. I’m not talking about a piddly ass little switchblade, I’m talking about a bigass hunting knife that would have made quick work in gutting my ass. He pointed it at me then, smiled, and said, “Don’t be such a fucking pussy.” Before gesturing towards the well.
It was at this point that I decided my cousin was probably, maybe, completely fucking insane. Batshit. And I wanted no part of him or the well. I also wanted no part of that damned knife. So I did the only thing I could think of in that moment, which was to turn around and run as fast as I could back towards the woods.
Unfortunately, my cousin was faster and I made it maybe three steps before he was on top of me and the knife was in my shoulder. I screamed like a fucking banshee, loud as I could before he socked me right in the jaw, shutting me right up and leaving me dazed.
He was off of me in seconds and dragging my ass back to the well, and I might not have known exactly why he was intent on getting me down there, but I was pretty damned sure nothing good was going to come of it if he did, so as he moved closer I started to kick at him.
They were weak kicks at first I’m ashamed to admit, but in my defense, I’d just been fucking stabbed and then punched in the face. I was working from a disadvantage. After a few though they got stronger, and I got lucky. Very lucky. One kick landed in his gut, and another in his chest, and the next thing I know he goes stumbling backward ass over teakettle into the very well he was trying to toss me into.
I feel like it’s safe to call that karma, maybe? Anyways, I manage to get to my feet, and it’s about then that I realize that I haven’t heard a splash, or a thud, or anything really from the well. I should have heard something when he fell. So of course I move closer to peer in and see what happened.
What I see is nothing. I don’t mean like water but no him, or sand. I mean I see a black void. Yes, it’s nighttime, but it’s a full bright moon and we’re in a clearing and I should see something, and all I see is this wall of darkness and no cousin. No anything.
Just as I’m considering finding a rock to throw in, and why I didn’t immediately go get help what with the goddamned knife sticking out of my arm I’m still not sure, I start hearing these sounds. Weird sounds. It takes me a moment to place them, but when I do my blood runs cold. It’s the sound of meat tearing and bones breaking. It’s the sound of something with sharp, sharp teeth digging into a meal. And below that, oh so faintly, I hear something moaning.
That, that right there, is when I decide that yes I definitely need to go get help. When I finally make it back to my aunts house and wake everyone up, the story I tell is more than a bit jumbled and incoherent. They seem to get the point, maybe? My aunt and uncle call the police and an ambulance, and I wind up getting questioned the next day at the hospital when upon searching the area they find the well but neither hide nor hair of my cousin.
I don’t know what to tell them beyond what I’ve already said. Truth told I maybe tell them a little less. I mean come on, who is gonna believe me if I say something in the well probably ate my asshole cousin? Nobody, that’s who. A search is started, it lasts days, but no trace of my cousin is ever found. My aunt and uncle… they don’t quite blame me, I don’t think. The evidence that my cousin lost his shit is overwhelming. He helpfully left some very strange diaries behind talking about the ‘hungry woman in the well’.
We still don’t ever go back to their place again. Don’t ever see my aunt or uncle again for that matter. Not even six months after everything happened they go missing. No signs of a struggle, no signs they were moving, just gone. That fucks my dad up pretty hard.
My cousin though, I haven’t told anyone else this, but I still see him from time to time. Mostly at night and usually in my dreams. He’s always asking for help, sometimes telling me he’s sorry sometimes screaming at me. I always give him the best advice he ever gave me. Don’t be such a fucking pussy.