There’s Something Sinister In My Grandma’s Old House And Nobody Knows About It But Me

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” I agreed with fear bubbling in my stomach.

The bearded guy (I still didn’t know his name) got really nervous and jittery once we reached the secluded patch of grass in the corner. He could barely focus, but eventually started talking with his eyes on the ground.

“Uh, I have a question for you man.”

“Okay.”

“You think you are better than us just because you go to that fucking school?”

“What?”

“Are you trying to come in here and take our girls?”

I gave the guy a long, confused stare.

“Uh, no, sorry man,” I said in the same way you would say to a homeless person who asks you if you have a quarter. “I mainly just want to leave now.”

The bearded guy didn’t say another word. Just stared at me for a few moments before walking back towards the fire.

The whole interaction shook me up. I was instantly no longer comfortable in the situation I should have never been comfortable in to begin with.

I saw an opening in the fence next to me and slipped out onto the sidewalk.

I started off towards the better part of town and my home in a clumsy gait, tranquilized by the weed which was still bogging down my system.

“Wait. Wait,” I heard Loralei’s voice call out from behind me.

I turned to see her run up to me in the streetlight.

“What are you doing?”

“It was getting just a little too weird for me in there.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s weird. But you still want to hang out?”

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Jack has written professionally as a journalist, fiction writer, and ghost writer. For more information, visit his website.

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