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Squeal

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I am NOT putting this out there for entertainment. I am putting this out there as a warning. About three weeks ago on a warm summer’s day, I was coming home from a friend’s house that lived a couple blocks away by a large forest. It would take at least 20 minutes to walk around the forest separating us so it was around 6 or 7 o’clock when the sun was just starting to set and I needed to get home for dinner.

I decided to take a shortcut through the woods like we did when we were kids, but for some reason I haven’t taken that grassy path in years. As I started on the trail I noticed the sunset hardly lighting the deep forest. It was starting to get dark. I walked along the trees I heard a faint noise, like a squeal from a pig, but I lived by a few farms but they were miles away. The squealing wasn’t out of pain it sounded like it was out of…. pleasure.

I looked around, scanning the area. Nothing but trees and grass in sight. I soon picked my up pace thinking of the movie “Deliverance”. Damn, that movie was fucked up. I soon heard it again this time louder started jogging. I just assumed maybe one of the hogs escaped from the farm and was loose in the forest. But now I know that I was wrong, dead wrong. I heard rustling leaves a couple feet behind me and began to sprint the hell out of that forest as fast as I could. I soon made it home and ripped open the door, slamming it behind me. I caught my breath, and then sat down to eat.

But little did I know the worst was about to come.

After dinner I was so exhausted I took a shower and went to bed. I was in a deep sleep around 3:00, when I heard a rustling outside my window. I look out the window to see a large, burly looking man digging through my trash through the darkness. I began to open the window to send him on his way, thinking it was a homeless person. My window made a squeak as I opened it. The man quickly angled his head straight to me. His eyes were piercing, red and it looked like he had a snout? I slammed my window shut hoping it was a nightmare. I heard heavy breathing by my window. I kept repeating to myself “just a dream, it’s just a…. dream” The breathing eventually died out and I passed out due to lack of sleep.

The next morning I woke up in a pile of sweat, it was around a 9:00 now but the fear was still with me. I tiptoed down the stairs and saw my parents left a note before they left for work. It read “take in the trash cans before we get home.” I shrugged it off as another chore, so I got on my shoes and started to bring it in when a terrible smell overwhelmed me. I looked in the trash can and found a dead dog laying there… mauled to death. I soon realized that my dream wasn’t a dream. I sprinted into my house, locking all the doors and window then grabbing a kitchen knife and running up to my room, slamming the door shut, locking it in the process. I waited for hours sitting on bed staring at my door waiting for my parents to get home. I looked at my clock, 7:00 pm; they should be home by now. I glance out the window and see my parent’s car in the driveway with both doors opened and blood trails leading into the forest. I began to tear up in fear and in sadness. He’s … here.

I wanted to call the police or anyone… just someone to help me. But my phone was… down stairs. I became enraged with myself. “What kind of idiot leaves their phone down stairs in an emergency?!” I began to get up and slowly grab my door knob…. when the power snaps off. He’s in the house, with me. I open my door and creep out. I check the surroundings, nothing, knife in hand, I make my decent down the staircase. Reaching the bottom, I turn toward my kitchen, surrounded in darkness. “SQUEAL!” I turn around to see the large man except in wasn’t man. He had a bloody boar head, with huge tusks on his face.

He smacked me to the ground. Before I could get up he placed his leg on my chest holding me to the ground. He was crushing my lungs. I then gripped my knife and slash his leg. “SQUEAL!” He pulled his foot off me. I began to crawl toward the phone trying to catch my breath; he then pulled the knife from my grip, stabbing it into my hand. I screamed in agony. I tried pulling it out with the other hand as he positioned him foot over my head. Just then I heard my front door break open with two policemen stepping inside. The beast ran out the back door and I quickly pulled the knife from my hand and started to cry holding the knife. Apparently one of my neighbors the noises and called the police to my house.

I told the police my story and they didn’t believe me. They blamed me for killing my parents and committed me to an insane asylum. No one believes me, but you have to! It might be you he goes after next…

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