By: Charlie DeJonge
Unfortunately I have had more experiences in the past twenty years with disturbing figures and places than I would have liked, but it allows me to share my stories with you. The story you will read, still haunts me to this day. When I return home, I often find it difficult to go, or even look at where the event happened. I wish I could go back to that winter night and force myself to stay inside watching South Park and just tune out the noises, but I can’t and the only reason I am reminding myself of it is for a few extra credit points to boost my GPA.
When I was about fifteen years old, my parents had gone out for dinner with friends and left me alone. As a freshman in high school, I enjoyed the freedom that came with a night to myself. I planned on sitting on my couch all night and watching South Park reruns until they came back. A bit of a layout of my house, my family room and kitchen are one big room and look out over my backyard. The entire west wall has floor-to-ceiling windowpanes and the couch has its back to the windows.
As the fifth episode of South Park came on and I moved to the kitchen for food, a loud thud broke Cartman’s voice and made me drop my Pringles. I looked at the windows but didn’t see anything. Then another thud. I walked back to the couch cautiously and all of a sudden, a big snowball hit the window in front of me that threw me onto the ground. Very funny, must be the neighbors. I opened one of the doors and yelled out to them but didn’t get any answer. I turned on the porch lights but couldn’t see anyone. Then the thud came again at the same spot and another snowball fell. Where were they?
I locked the doors (because I wasn’t going to let anyone in and because I’m not playing the role of a cliché horror victim) and went to my parents room to turn on the spotlight that would hopefully reveal my neighbors hiding in bushes. I should’ve just gone back to South Park. I turned on the light and there he was. Gotcha. I went back downstairs and with the light still on yelled over to my neighbor. But again, no answer. So with the light still on and the other doors locked, I threw on my coat and boots and trekked across the snow to talk to my neighbor. At least I thought it would be. I was about ten feet away from the man when I noticed something was off. Not only was he wearing jeans and a t-shirt in the winter but he just had a distant gaze to his face. The more I say this the more I can see him. His dark eyes just looked past me to my house and to the window I assumed he was hitting. His hands, dangled lifelessly by his side and he swayed ever so slightly. I backed away without taking my eyes off him. I called my parents and they came home as soon as I told them what was happening.
My dad had gone out to look for the man but didn’t find anything except for my tracks. They saw the marks to the window and said it must have been the neighbors. But I know what I saw. I know that some man was watching me that night. That something was wrong with him and that I still can picture him in that corner when I go home.
I wish for none of you to ever experience anything like this. It is something that has stayed with me for years now and continues to frighten me. I am not sure where he went, what he wanted or who he was, but I know that I never wish to see him again.