My story begins last summer. We had just moved to a small town in South Carolina.
My father had just gotten a new job, the pay was very good, so obviously he took it. I was not happy about it, however my mother and my little brother were ecstatic. My brother was looking forward to meeting new kids in 5th grade and playing at the park across the street and my mother was looking forward to trips to the beach and exploring our little town. I hated our move though. I had spent my entire life at our previous house, all of my friends, family, and memories were made at our old house. There is no way I would have to finish high school here, it was unfair.
My parents tried anything they could to cheer me up but I was just too stubborn to entertain their attempts. One of their attempts involved us going out for a nice dinner in our small town. We arrived at the restaurant and ate our food, which I must admit was very tasty but that’s besides the point. We left the restaurant and began walking back to our car, on the way back there was a man that was approaching us who was clearly drunk and maybe even homeless. He was muttering to himself and as we got closer began shouting at us. He was going on about some nonsense about disrespecting him and looking at him the wrong way. It was very hard to tell what he was saying because he was clearly black out drunk. During the chaos of the situation he tried to backhand me, which I dodged easily because like I said, he was black out drunk. We ended up getting around the old drunk and getting to our car. Once we were driving back we began to discuss the situation. My dad took this opportunity to lecture me and my brother on the danger of alcohol and firmly told us to never touch it.
While discussing the drunk, I brought up how he tried to backhand slap me, which is something I thought my parents had witnessed but it turns out they hadn’t. “What did he do?” my dad said. “He tried to backhand slap me when we were trying to leave.” I replied. My dad fell silent as he continued to drive. “He didn’t actually hit you, did he?” my mom asked. I assured my parents that he had not hit me, that he only tried to, however I dodged it because it was a pathetic attempt. My mom began to humor the situation, but my dad stayed silent. I looked at him from the back seat and he looked angry. We finally arrived at our house. My dad ordered all of us to go inside and stay inside, and that he would be back in a bit. We asked him what he was talking about but all he said was “I’ll be back in a little bit.” before putting the car into reverse and speeding back towards town. “That’s weird.” my mom said before her, my brother, and I walked inside. Around 4 hours later at about 1am, my dad pulled back up to the house and walked inside. I walked out of my room and greeted him. He looked extremely sketched out, and jittery. “Are you okay?’ I asked him. “Yeah yeah, I’m just a little tired, you go get some sleep kid, I need to go lay down for a bit.” I agreed and went into my room and quickly fell asleep.
The next morning the family sat down at the table for breakfast. “Honey, what were you doing out so late last night?” my mom asked my dad. “I had to go have a talk with that stupid bum that wanted to lay his hands on my son.” He said angrily. “Dad, he didn’t touch me, he was just some old drunk, you really didn’t have to do that.” I said to my dad. “Enough, son. It is taken care of, he learned his lesson.” my dad replied. No more words were spoken about that topic for the rest of the day.
All was fine for the next week, I had made a new friend, I was more familiar with the town, and while I was still upset about the move, things were starting to look more and more bright, until a series of events began. I had just gotten home from a walk around the block. I went into my room and opened my window to get some fresh air in, and that’s when I saw him. A man was standing in my neighbors yard, he was wearing a black hoodie, dirty blue jeans, and work boots. “That’s odd” I thought. “It’s the middle of the summer, why is he wearing all of those clothes, he has to be burning up in those.” Just as I thought that he turned and walked off into the woods. I thought that was pretty odd, but I didn’t think much of it and went on with my day.
About 2 days later, me and the family were sitting at the table eating dinner, when I caught a glimpse of something at our kitchen window, I looked back and saw that out in the backyard, peeking over the fence, was a man in a black hoodie. My heart dropped and I quickly stood up. My dad looked at me confused and I explained that I saw someone peeking over the fence, looking at us. Me and my dad quickly rushed outside hoping to find the man, but he was long gone. We came back inside and sat down. I had forgotten about the events two days prior so I did not make the connection yet. “If you boys see anything else strange, let me know.” My dad told me and my brother before going into the other room to have a talk with my mother.
The next day, I was sitting in my room once again when I heard a whistling from outside my window. I peeked outside and noticed him. Across the street, sitting on one of the swings, was the same man I had seen. He was wearing the same black hoodie, same dirty blue jeans, same work boots. I quickly ran out of my room and told my dad. We walked outside, but when we did, there was nobody. Nobody was sitting on the swing, nobody was in sight. My dad told me that maybe I had just been daydreaming and didn’t actually see anybody. I sorta began to believe him. Maybe the stress of us moving was beginning to take a toll on my mind. So I just ignored it and continued on with my day.
There was not another incident for roughly 2 weeks until my brother began to get night terrors. He would continuously wake up in the middle of the night screaming. He claimed that there was a man in his closet. However every time my parents looked, they never found anyone. I began to get suspicious, why were me and my little brother getting these random dreams or hallucinations of a man. It didn’t make sense.
Leading up to this point, all of these experiences have been pretty tame and explainable. Maybe I was daydreaming most of my experiences, and maybe my brother had been watching too many spooky movies and was getting nightmares from them, but roughly a month into our move, shit began to get real. I was sitting on my porch one day, trying to enjoy the weather when I saw him, the man in the hoodie walking down the middle of the road. He was walking directly towards me. I noticed him, and began thinking about confronting him. I knew by now, this was no daydream. I stood up and was about to begin walking towards him, when I felt it. My fight or flight kicked in. I was completely terrified. With every step this man took, I would feel more and more scared. I truly felt that if I had gotten any closer to this man I would 100% die. I had never been more scared in my entire life. I quickly turned around and bolted inside. I told my dad about the man and he walked outside. He came back in a minute later and told me there was nobody outside. Was I going crazy? I knew for a fact this man was there a second ago, where did he go? All these thoughts raced through my head. It was getting too much for me, so I went and laid down on my bed until dinner.
Once dinner was ready, I sat down at the table and began eating, not saying a word. All of a sudden, my dad quickly looked at the back door. The whole family looked up at him as he yelled “Holy shit !” as he stood up and sprinted to the bedroom. We all looked at each other confused as my mom yelled “Where are you going?” My dad yelled back “To get the gun, what do you think?” We all looked even more confused. “Why are you getting the gun?” My mom replied. “Because there is a man at our backdoor” he yelled as he came rushing back into the kitchen. “What the hell are you talking about?” Mom replied “there is nobody at the door?”. My dad flung open the backdoor and began patrolling our backyard. I came outside “Dad there was nobody at the door, what are you talking about?” I said. I looked him in the eye and he looked terrified. He rushed me back inside and locked the doors. He refused to talk about it again.
The next 2 months passed with the occasional sighting of the man in the black hoodie, most of the time however, he would be off very far in the distance, usually watching the house. I didn’t know what to do, I genuinely believed I was going crazy.
On the final Tuesday of summer break, before school started again, I sat in my room reading a book at approximately 10pm, when I heard a knock on my window. My heart dropped, I knew who it was. I looked at my window to see the man in the black hoodie. We seemed to stare at each other for what felt like an eternity. He began to reach up and grab his hoodie, he pulled it down to reveal his face. It was the old drunk man from the restaurant that had harassed me and my family, which felt like it was so long ago. He stood there looking at me with his cold, emotionless eyes. It all made sense. My dad more than likely found the old man, yelled at him or maybe even beat him up. Then when my dad left, the man had probably followed him home and stalked my family as a way of ‘revenge’. I hurriedly stood up and ran out of my room to tell my dad. When I got to the living room, I saw my dad sitting there with his head in his hands.
I was going to tell him about the man at my window when I noticed what was on the TV. It was a news report about a dead body found in the woods a few miles from my house. “Breaking news, a 56 year old man, Charles Burlap was found dead in nearby woods a few hours ago. It is suspected the cause of death is murder. Police say the man has been deceased for an estimated 3 months, and are currently investigating further.” They then popped a picture of this man Charles onto the screen. It was him. The man at my window was the man that I was seeing on the TV. I didn’t have time to process what was happening, when it started. Knocking, on every possible surface. On every single window, door, and wall, there was loud, aggressive knocking. My dad quickly ran into the bedroom and grabbed his hunting rifle and headed outside.
Dad never came back inside. Police were only able to find his hunting rifle 2 miles into the woods. They called off the search not long after. I have no idea what happened to my dad. I have no idea what he did to that man the night that we were at the restaurant and to be honest, I’m not sure I want to know. Ever since his disappearance however, I have not seen the man in the black hoodie. Everything has been very quiet recently. The only problem however is that my little brother has started to get night terrors again, and I often catch him waving out the window to somebody on the playground, that I can’t see.