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I'm going to tell this story to you all so you can understand what I have been going through. Obviously no one would believe me, but I'm tired of keeping it deep down inside of me. No matter what is said, the only thing you will read here is the truth. I don't really know where it all began, so I'll just start ten years ago. I was thirteen years old at the time, and my dad and I had nothing to do during the summer. We had thought of going camping, so we bought a fairly affordable trailer.
I wasn't that interested in camping much. I was always an "inside" person, if you get what I mean. I would just lounge around in my room, playing video games. I would watch TV, eat cheetos, or just sleep for hours on. But when we got to the campground, I was astonished. The campground was large and beautiful, with trailers everywhere. We had lots of fun; we went fishing and roasted marshmallows on the campfire. They had a large pool, and even a lake to swim in. I don't think I've ever had so much fun as I did back then. After that camping trip, we went to a lot more of them every year. It had been the most fun thing to do during the summer for me, but that all went downhill six years later.
Six years ago, something had happened; something that I, to this day, still can't figure out. Summer had finally come, and I was excited to go camping. My dad had actually booked a campground, a pretty cheap one. It was at Pennsylvania, which was hours away from where I lived. It didn't look as cool as our first camping trip, but I was fine with it. I was thrilled that we got to go camping again. We got in the car first thing on Friday morning, and drove off. It was quite a long ride, but we eventually got there. I looked out the window when my dad woke me up. The campground did indeed look old and a little decaying, but it still had a sense of coziness in it, so I gave it a try. The nature did make up for other views of the campground. There was only one swimming pool, and a lake. Despite what I've seen so far, I was quite surprised to see that our campsite still looked fairly nice. It had a rusted old iron ring for the campfire, and plenty of space. My dad told me to check out the pools, the lakes, and basically everything else. I pondered around the dirty lake as I saw that it was getting pretty late. I decided on going back to the trailer and going to bed. I let out a faint yawn as I went back to the trailer and went to bed. It was so comfortable that I fell asleep instantly. But this isn't the point. The campground being old was not the problem, it was when I woke up in the middle of the night.
I was awoken. I heard a noise, a loud one. It sounded like it came from a radio. It's just music, I thought to myself. But it didn't sound much like music. It sounded horrendous and nasty. But there was something familiar about that song that I couldn't figure out. It didn't stop, and it was getting really loud. I tried to ignore it but I could not. I tried to cover my ears and use ear plugs, but those didn't work either. It just got louder and louder. When I looked outside the window, I could see nothing, so I woke up my dad so he could find out where this music was coming from. He looked a little mad that I woke him up, but sighed, and went to open up the window. He told me he could hear nothing, and that I was probably dreaming. Couldn't hear anything? What did that mean? I certainly heard it, but I was too tired to argue with him, and he too was tired to argue with me. So I went back to bed and covered my ears. The music slowly stopped, and with a sigh of relief I fell asleep. It didn't end there, though. The music played again every night, loudly, and woke me up. I was getting tired of the music. The fact that it played the same song every night made me shake a bit. I decided I would find out myself where the music was coming from. My dad obviously wouldn't go out in the cold to find out who was playing the music, so I was.
I went outside the trailer quietly, trying not to wake my dad. It was unusually cold that night, but I could get through it. I peered around the site, trying to find where it all had been coming from. Nothing. No lights out, no noise, except for the radio noises. But there was one thing I noticed, something that hadn't been there when I looked out the window when I usually heard the noises. There was a red light, coming from within the woods. The radio noises became clear to me, and I could finally see that it was coming from the red light. So, as planned, I decided to follow the light, hoping to give these people a piece of my mind.
I went into the dark, creepy woods. There were branches and mud puddles everywhere, so it was hard for me to get around. This was ridiculous! I can't believe this guy was making me jump through hell to get him to turn off music. I thought I was just being stupid. Before I decided to go back, I finally got to the light. The light was shining above the garage of an old cabin. The cabin was creepier than the sights of the old campground I had left. It was covered in moss, and it was wet. There was no one in the garage, so I went to the other side to find out where. When I found a window, I looked inside and saw a man.
His face was covered in oil and blood together. He was wearing jeans, a white shirt (with sweat marks), and was very skinny. I saw the radio next to him, playing the same music, along with a few dusty old knives that were covered in blood. I covered my mouth with my hands with regret. I had no idea what he was doing with those knives, and I didn't want to know. I could not bear it any longer. As I made my plan to run away and get back to the trailer, I saw the man turn his face to me. He was looking at me, staring into my eyes. There was sweat covering my entire body, and my heart was racing. I could not stop shaking when I saw that his eyes were of a demon's; all red. When I made my decision to run home as fast as I can and call the police (I did not have my cell phone with me at the time) he put his hands on a gigantic axe, and swung it at something on the ground. It made a noise as if it cut through flesh, but again, I didn't want to know. I could have just witnessed a crime scene, a kidnapping, or God knows what. Then he slowly turned his head to me. He gave me a grin and smiled at me. That was when I finally ran from him. I tried my hardest to run as fast as I could. I wasn't very focused on the puddles and sticks all around my path, so I tripped and landed on a rock.
I don't really remember what happened between when I fainted and the time I woke up the next morning in my bed. I sat up on my bed for a moment. Many thoughts circled my head, such as, what had happened? Why did I wake up in my bed? When I asked my dad if he moved me to my bed, he gave me a face of confusion and shook his head. But, what if that man carried me back here? If he did, then why? I had large doubts that this was real. I couldn't keep thinking about it, I was getting sick to my stomach. That was the only thing that kept me from dialing 911. We left the campground in the usual way, but during the car ride, my dad was starting to think I didn't have fun on the trip. I just looked outside the window during the entire ride, not able to relax or fall asleep.
During the following months after that trip we didn't go camping that much anymore. He didn't want to take me because I looked too scared to go, or too sad. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep, and my grades at school were plummeting. I saw myself getting depressed over what happened, and I was losing a lot of weight. Basically, I had nightmares. Whenever I was in my bed at night, I always thought I felt him touching me. Sometimes I even saw him outside my window. My parents were very scared about me, indeed, so they took me to a therapist. The therapist couldn't even help me, because he didn't know what I had gone through. He just told my parents that I was a teenager going through natural things. They were forced to accept that, despite how scared they were for me. Damnit, why didn't I just ignore the music? I feel bad about what they were going through. The trauma was just driving me insane, and it felt too real to be a dream. You aren't supposed to see shit like this at teenage-hood.
I am twenty-three now. Over looking back on what happened, I decided to go back to that decomposing old campground to investigate. It was closed and abandoned to my surprise, so I climbed over the metal fence and into the campground. I looked around and saw a few old demolished cabins, and a few deer hopping by. I always remembered our site number, which was 056. When I arrived at our old camping spot, I retraced my steps to that old cabin deep in the woods. I was very surprised when I saw the cabin, exactly as I saw it that night four years ago. When I looked in, I saw nothing. Nothing. There wasn't even any proof of blood or marks on the walls. I hadn't felt so great in years to find out I only had a nightmare, but then I looked behind me and saw a small radio on the table. I pressed a button on the radio and it turned on to the song "Young Girl". I smiled for a second, because that was my father's favorite song. He would play on his CD player almost all of the time. I chuckled for a minute, then I realized something. I decided to hit the radio a little bit, then it reversed and it all came to me: that was the same song that had kept me up at night ten years ago, but deeper and in reverse. I looked at the ground next to the radio and I saw a little skeleton, half decomposing.
It was a child's...
Written by RynaTheBush