Let me preface this by saying I grew up in a very rural, poverty stricken part of North Carolina about a mile away from Tar River. The area in which I lived was a bit swampy, with heavy, dense woods all around the single wide that we called home. During the summers, when we had abundant time to spend traipsing around the creeks and fields around the area, my siblings and I would spend from dawn until well after dusk playing around in the forest, the river everywhere.

As children, our parents argued a lot, because we were very poor and they would frequently fight about jobs and money for days and days, so we always preferred to be out of earshot of them. Which meant we had to play in forests. We'd always had some sort of experience around the river, but we would always just explain it away. Branches snapped, rocks tossed around, the crunch of leaves in the distance. Nothing was as scary as being at home with Them. Looking back, I think something was influencing my parents attitudes and emotions. But that's a whole different story.

The first time I saw one, it was just the beginning of fall, the sun had almost gone completely down, leaving a sliver of red and purple that fade into a black abyss. My parents had a huge argument that ended with both of them raging out of the house. My mother sped off in her car and my dad walked out into the darkness of the woods. As a few hours passed, I began to grow worried about the whereabouts of my dad. So I strapped on my boots, grabbed my dog and walked out the door. I began to walk around our small backyard, trying to find any clue to where my dad had gone.

I looked behind me and upon the ridge I saw a shadow walking around, the moon illuminating the sky. I decided that must be my father and ran up the tall hill to meet him. At the top, I looked around but saw no one, and then suddenly my dog, a very laid back and soft pitbull, growled this horrible, guttural sound. I felt the hair on my neck shoot straight up, my arms covered in goose bumps. Without thinking I shot down the hill, running as quickly as my legs would go.

As I got to where the property began, I saw my dad sitting on a felled log. He looked angry still and his expression softened a bit when he saw my face. "Pops. Were you just up on the hill?" He looked at me perplexed, "No, I've been here the whole time. I saw you walk up there and wondered where you were going." He explained. I told him we should probably go inside since there's probably a bear around. As we were going inside my mother pulled up, got out of her car and told my dad "We need to talk about this." I went inside figuring they would sit in the car and talk about things I don't want to hear about.

In the back of our yard, we had a makeshift fire pit, which they had decided to sit around as they talked. About five minutes after I walked inside and began to get ready for bed, I heard banging on our back door, it was my ma, "Hurry! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!" My room was right beside the back door so I rushed to it, unlocking the door to see the terrified faces of my parents tripping over each other to get in the door. Then I saw it, standing just outside the line of trees, holding a decent sized sapling it had snapped. All I could do was stare at it. The thing screamed, a bone chilling howl. I snapped out of my trance and slammed the weak door closed and locked it, though I knew if it really wanted to get in it could just rip the door off the trailer. I stopped going in the woods after that.

Every spring and autumn they would come through. I don't know if they migrate, or what it is they do. But, as they come through, they whoop, and holler. Whistle and scream. Bang on the sides of the trailer. The second time I saw one, I was trying to get some sleep, a hard thing to do when one suffers from insomnia. I finally gave up trying and turned over to try to get a book to read when I noticed the shadow cast on the floor from my window.

Slowly, I shifted my gaze up to the window. There, sort of stooping down, stood one. Peering into my window. Resting one of it's hands upon the a/c unit. It tapped on the glass and let out a low whistle. I laid in my bed, just staring into whatever it was. It stood there letting out various whistles and clicks for about 10 minutes, before it tapped one last time, stepped back and walked back into the woods. I didn't feel threatened, I think maybe it was just curious.

There's a lot of mysterious, weird things that go on in the swampy woods around Tar River in North Carolina. Some things natural and some things... Other worldly...
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This is a neat story; I like your writing style.
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Was it a Sasquatch? 
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Giving this is a flame of recognition.

I'm sure this is one you'll enjoy @Darkness Prevails 
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Darkness Prevails
@AmmeJeanRomeo Thank you! It's been a while since we've had one of these.
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