I’m Finally Ready To Confess What Happened To Me The Summer Of 1994 At ‘The Covington House’
In retrospect, it may seem quite obvious that whatever was out there had been doing something to keep my grandparents asleep that night. And if it could do that, who knows what else it was capable of.
“Don’t look! He wants you to look!”
I hurried to my grandfather’s side of the bed and was gripping Pops’ shoulder to try and shake him conscious when he sat up so suddenly that I had to stifle my own horrified yelp. Pops was definitely fully awake this time. That much was obvious just by his eyes, which were wide open as he glared at me from behind an expression that was a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Joel? I just had… the worst dream. You were…” That was all Pops managed to get out before he abruptly fell silent, turning his gaze to the window behind me.
“I was what?” I asked, trying to keep him talking.
Pops looked like he was going to tell me but then he paused, his mouth curving into a bashful smile as Pops finally shrugged and said, “I can’t remember.”
Then there was the time when what should have been a ten-minute hike through the woods resulted in me going missing for almost nine hours. And I’m not saying that I got lost in the woods and it took me nine hours to find my way out. I mean not even I can tell you where I was. I was just… gone.
I had tagged along with a few of the older cousins who had planned to go on a hike the night before but it was around noon when we finally started and there were a ton of mosquitos out that day (like most days), so the older boys had quickly grown weary of the idea. We were actually on our way back to the Covington house when they decided to ditch me out there in the woods.
