[This is a copy of my other story. I’m doing it again so that I can put the general area of the campsite on the map. I can’t put the exact address, because it’s a private property.]
It was summer just a few years ago. I sleep in a bunk bed with my brothers in the room that we share. I woke up one night from the top bunk.
Like I said, it was summer, and it tends to get stuffy at night, so the window was open. I could hear a very slow, raspy breathing, and the sound of the screen from the window being scratched.
I quietly rolled over onto my stomach and looked over the side of the bed down at the window.
It looked like a man but it’s features were just… Wrong. It was as pale as the moon and bone thin. It had long arms and it had a hand with long fingers scratching at the screen of the window. Its eyes gave off a soft glow that sort of light up the room a little bit. It was looking around the room from behind the window.
It wasn’t even trying to get in. It was just… Examining the room. From what I could tell, it hadn’t spotted me yet, and I couldn’t get out of bed without it seeing me, so I just crawled over to the other side of the bed (the side by the door) and layed silently terrified until morning. It left after about an hour judging by the digital clock on top of the TV.
The next morning I went outside and studied the window. Whatever had been there HAD to have been at LEAST 7 feet tall, because the window is about 5 feet off the ground, and this thing was hunched over.
A few weeks go by and I go on a camping trip. My brothers were in boy scouts, and I was allowed to go on the camping trips, which I love because I’ve always loved the forest.
It was in this enormous forest in the middle of nowhere. The property belongs to someone from scouts and there’s nobody else for miles.
Everything goes fine. Fun day of fishing and hiking, s’mores, everyone’s about to get in their tents and everyone’s silenced by an echoing, bloodcurdling scream. It was definitely, absolutely not a fox. And there haven’t been any mountain lions in the entire state for centuries, so it couldn’t have been one of those either.
Somehow everyone was able to get some sleep after that. I convince myself to get into the big family tent and soon I’m out cold.
I woke up to the sound of the tent fabric being scratched at. I look around, and on one of the walls, long scratches are being made periodically from the outside.
I turn on the lantern hanging from the ceiling and it stops. I can see it’s silhouette. Its the same thing from only weeks before. Large, bone thin, with long arms and legs.
It creeps away and It begins to do the same thing to the other tents at the campsite.
I wait for it to finally leave, and I turn off the lantern. I somehow was able to fall asleep.
My dad’s into paranormal stuff, but I don’t know how he’d take all this. I haven’t told it much, and every person who cared to listen didn’t take it seriously.
I haven’t seen it since, but whatever it was had followed me from my house in the suburbs to the forest out of town. I’ve always slept on the other side of the bed since then. Away from the window.