I’ve had this account for a little while, and I’ve never posted anything, because I never really thought anything was worth the effort.
But I was telling a friend this story tonight, and they suggested I share it so someone can help me figure out what it was.
I live in New England if that helps.
A few years ago, the summer after my senior year of high school, I was sitting outside around 2am with my then-boyfriend. we were smoking weed on his porch, catching up about our day. We both worked night shift, so this was about our 7pm equivalent for those who are on day shift. We were both starting to feel it, the conversation trailing off, just looking out at the driveway. He lived in the woods, just off a highway. Somewhere where enough people pass to feel like civilization wasn’t too far, but secluded enough for privacy, and never knowing your neighbors.
On the far end of the driveway, there was a small patch of bushes, on the edge of the tree line. behind them, was a tree that stood out a bit. if you were familiar with it, it would catch your eye. it was like a focal point in the tree line. I was staring off into space at it, and I noticed movement. As my eyes focused back in, I saw something slowly moving behind the tree from one side to the other. Like whatever it was, it was peering at us from either side, slowly switching back and forth. It was pretty tall, definitely taller than the average person, and I knew I could make out the shape a head and shoulders. The porch light was on, and the tree line was at an incline, so by all accounts it was lit well enough to know if something was moving. I started to feel anxious and sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to make my boyfriend nervous too, we were both high and have anxiety disorders.
So, I slowly turn to him and notice he’s looking the same direction I was. Maybe he didn’t notice though, at least I hoped.
I quietly and calmly suggested we go back inside.
Without questioning it at all, he says,
“Yeah. let’s go in.”
For context, this kid adored being outside. he would find any excuse to sit outside, day or night, rain or shine. he loved winter sports and skateboarding in the summer, he loved hikes and he loved to star gaze. He would spend so long outside he’d come back in with new colonies of freckles all over his face and arms, smiling like a kid coming back from a water park. So, for him to just… agree to go inside without so much as an “awe, are you sure?” was out of the ordinary.
We go back inside and sit on his bed in complete silence. after a few minutes he says,
“Do you… wanna watch some tv maybe?”
I turn back and say,
“I’m sorry, I know we are both high and it’s probably just my imagination, I’m not trying to freak you out, but did you see-“
“-That thing behind the tree. yeah.”
He just stared at the foot of his bed for a good ten seconds, before smiling, “it was probably just the wind pushing around a baby tree. those poor things can hold their own!” With that, he grabbed the remote and flicked on the movie we had started before going outside. He reached for my hand. laying down, and squeezed it tightly. He was trying to distract me; he knew I was scared. I had to be home before 5am to be up in time for lunch with my mom. He knew I had to drive home in a few hours.
My car was parked 5ft from the bush patch.
I tried to relax, just trying to enjoy my high. We were safe inside, a cute movie on, blankets and stuffed animals, I couldn’t have asked for anything more (except maybe snacks, munchies will get you good).
But then it came time for me to go home. It was around maybe 3:30-4am by then, and I had to leave. my drive was around a half hour, and I still needed to shower before bed. I pack my work clothes in my bag and get ready to say goodbye. I was standing at his bedroom door giving the usual “I love you, I’ll text you when I’m home.” speech everyone gives, when he grabbed my hand and told me to drive safe. I assured him I would, but he lifted my face with his fingers and said,
“I know, but I really mean it. I’m worried. I know I worry, but seriously. If you don’t want to drive, don’t. I can wake you up early to be home to see your mom, I’ll tell my mom you fell asleep during the movie. Something feels off.”
I told him he was very sweet, but that I was perfectly fine to drive. I wasn’t super tired, and my high wore off.
I wish I listened to him and just stayed the night. I wish I just slept there and drove home the next day. I wish I didn’t step foot outside his front door until morning. God, why didn’t I just sleep there?
The second my feet hit the porch, I knew someone, or something was watching me.
It wasn’t anxiety, I knew this feeling. I had been followed home from school, I had been followed to the rec center as a kid, I had been followed in stores as a teenager. I KNEW when someone was watching me, and I knew it in that moment.
I tried to brush it off, warm the back of my neck with my hand, do my breathing exercises, but it didn’t matter. every step I took towards my car, towards the tree line, the weight of dread built in my stomach. It made my legs weak, and my hands shake. It wasn’t fear, it was a feeling of doom.
Why on God’s green Earth didn’t I just go the fuck back inside and say I couldn’t drive home??
When I got about 10-15ft from my van, I unlocked it and booked it to the driver’s side door which thankfully was facing away from the bushes. I lock my car again and start it. My speakers connect to my phone, playing Sublime’s Waiting For My Ruca. Everything is fine.
You’re in your car, music is playing, most of your drive is on the highway, you’ll be home and in bed before you know it.
I pull out of his driveway, and that feeling of being watched doesn’t go away. I’m getting really scared at this point, but something in me was calmly telling me to just act natural, pretend everything is fine.
Go ahead, sing along. You love this song. Don’t think about it, just look at the road, and nowhere else. It’s okay, just watch the road.
I get out onto the highway, and then out onto the main stretch of road leading to my house. as I turn, that voice in my head goes from calm to stern. Like short commands or instructions.
Unbuckle your seatbelt right now. Do not look behind you, do not look in your mirror. Do not show fear.
It’s like those thoughts weren’t my brain, they came from my bones. from something deep and old. much older than me.
So, like any reasonable person would do, I unbuckled my seatbelt and rubbed my stomach grimacing as if I had a stomachache. Gotta sell the story, I have a reason to be taking off my seatbelt. Tears silently streaming down my face, I mouthed along to the songs playing, giving half-hearted taps on my steering wheel to the beat. And good God, did I do everything in my power not to look behind me.
But it wasn’t enough. A car passed me with their high beams on. as I looked over to the side of the road, shielding my eyes, I caught a shadowy figure in my mirror. It was blocking half of my back window on my side of the van. It was like it was absorbing the light, like vibrating dark matter. The second I made any contact, that split second glance, it was enough for it to get inside my head.
It showed me exactly how I was going to die.
Like a sick movie playing behind my eyes, I saw myself screaming, swerving off the road, and crashing into a telephone pole.
My head hit the steering wheel. as I rocked back in my seat, It jumped over the head of my seat, ripping my throat open with its claws, and eating me alive. I saw my blood pouring into my lap, and then it was over. I felt every second of it, heard every thought I had. What was the last thing I said to my mom? Who was I? because whatever I was, this was it. Who am I leaving behind? What was the last thing I said to my mom? Why did you pick me? What are you? What was the last thing I said to my mom?
I snapped back to the road, looking around frantically trying to get my bearings back.
and then I realized. That telephone pole was a mile and a half up the road.
I was trying to slow my breathing. I couldn’t speak or scream even if I wanted to. I was completely paralyzed. My body was on autopilot as my brain frantically tried to think of a way out, but all I had was:
Do not show fear.
Do not show fear.
Do not show fear.
In that moment. my boyfriend called me. I answered the phone trying to sound as normal as possible, but I came across forcefully cheery, my voice clearly shaking.
He told me he got bored and decided to call. I was so relieved to hear his voice, but I was also confused. I knew him better than the back of my hand, and this didn’t make sense. 15 minutes ago, he was deeply concerned about me driving home, now he’s bored? When he concerns himself with something, he can’t let go of it for hours sometimes. At best, he would feel better when I made it home. But for him to be bored halfway through my drive, it was so unlike him. And furthermore, nothing he was saying made sense; idly discussing random topics like what his shower routine was (which I knew, why was he explaining it to me?) whether or not he should floss tonight (I’ve never once seen that kid floss. He despised the taste of blood and would never willingly floss), and most notably, explaining the concept of Forza. That was when I got the message. For anyone who isn’t aware, Forza is some dumb racing game we would often play together, trying to beat each other’s times until we eventually devolved into seeing how recklessly we could drive without letting the car hit a dead stop (pinned between rocks, or at the bottom of a lake). He was explaining the concept of a game we were both familiar with to let me know he knew I wasn’t free to talk. He was talking to make it known that I wasn’t alone. He was listening, and he wasn’t hanging up. For the rest of my drive home, we made stilted ‘casual’ conversation.
I saw the telephone pole coming up.
me entire body tensed; I was white knuckling the wheel. I was going to make it past this fucking pole, or so help me God, I would’ve started a riot at Hell’s Gates.
I slowed down gently, trying to seem as calm and fluid as I possible.
As I passed it, something in the air changed in my car. Once again, It was showing me something behind my eyes. Without looking behind me, I ‘saw’ it standing next to the telephone pole.
It knew I escaped; it wasn’t just dumb luck. It was showing me where I should’ve died. It was watching me drive away. telling me,
You were lucky this time.
When I turned onto my street, I wept out of relief. My car was barely off and in park before I flung myself out of the car (The ‘no seat belt’ sounded so stupid until that moment) and I ran inside the house and locked the door behind me. I just sat on the floor against my front door sobbing on the phone with him. At this point he broke down too. I didn’t notice for a moment, until he said “Jesus Christ, I thought I was going to have to hear you die. I love you so much.” he kept repeating how much he loved me, sobbing over the phone with me. I caught my breath enough to ask him what he meant, because I hadn’t told him anything yet. In my head, I thought I looked like a maniac. I was just driving home like normal, and then started hysterically crying for seemingly no reason. As far as I was aware, I wasn’t entirely sure he even called to protect me. I was doubting myself, that maybe he really did just want to discuss Forza of all things for 15 minutes straight.
None of it made any sense.
He calmed down a little and told that right before he called me, he saw a terrible image in his head of the front end of my van wrapped around a telephone pole, my neck nearly missing, and my dead eyes just staring out my window at him. So, he called me. When I answered, he knew something was very, very wrong. he knew he had to act natural and pretend everything was fine. He looked around the room for talking points and stuck to Forza. I cried and told him everything, begging him to believe me. Of course, he did, but it felt so unreal that I wasn’t sure I even believed it happened.
I’ve spent my whole life running from death. I wasn’t supposed to be conceived, I almost died twice, during and after birth. I was supposed to be disabled physically and mentally. I turned out physically fine, and aside from high functioning autism, and a slew of mental illnesses, I’m alright. I’ve been stalked, I’ve almost been kidnapped a few times, I’ve been hit by a car once, I slid off the road into a guard rail the winter before; an accident that should’ve been fatal. But all I had was a concussion and some bruising. I’ve taken drugs that were laced, I’ve been given drugs that were just straight-up not what I was told they were, I’ve almost drowned, the list goes on.
Any time I thought I was for sure, no doubt going to die, there was almost a sense of peace.
A bit of an I understand. if this is how it ends, so be it. I’m tired of running feeling.
But this was something cold and desperate, and it wanted to crawl inside my skin. It was powerful, but for some reason it let me go. This was something I could never, would never accept.
I lay awake at night wondering if it knows me. If it was in my head, what did it learn? is it still after me? Has it found me yet?
And goddammit, what was the last thing I had said to my mom?
P.S. my ex and I are still in contact. upon asking if he remembers this, he told me that night was the single most amount of fear he’s ever felt and recounted his side for me again so i got it right. we came up with a code i can call him with if i ever encounter this Thing again. it’s “Hey, I was supposed to come pick up my copy of Forza yesterday. Do you mind if I swing by to grab it?”