It Happened One Evening

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

A first hand account of what happened, one August night while investing a neighbors house after he requested we do so when it became apparent there was someone living there.

“I think someone’s fucking around in our neighbor’s house...” Ricky said to me, with a slight pause in his voice. “You want to come help me see if we can find any evidence?”

“Sure.” I said, eagerly.

“Alright, first thing’s first. We’re NOT sneaking out in the middle of the night with you wearing a red shirt, and short jeans. Put on some dark clothes.” He said to me.

I went to my room and changed.  This bizarre feeling arouse in my mind about what was going to happen. I had an anxious feel in my stomach every time I looked up at that house from outside the kitchen window. “Ok, turn your shirt inside out and give it here.”

I did so and he cut the tags off. “What are you doing that for…?” I asked curiously.

“If there is someone out there and they’ve got an LED light, then your tags will light up like a Christmas tree. Which is why I asked you to turn your shirt inside out, so the picture wouldn’t show. We are gonna be invisible to them.” He responded.

I was nervous because now I was more sure than ever that he had done this MANY times before. He seemed unusually calm about it to. The kind of carefree attitude that someone gets when they’ve been through something so many times that they can do it by heart. We walked outside and he killed all the lights. “Walk slowly and cautiously. When you go to take a step, use your heal first and then your toes. That way if you step on something that’ll break, you can move your foot away and eliminate the noise.”

I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or anxiety that I was feeling, but I was sure feeling something! We crept up to the house very slowly. Ricky turned to me and whispered in my ear, “If we see a spot that’s lite up, avoid it. And if we HAVE to go through it, move swiftly.”

All these tips he was giving me were starting to freak me out more than ever now. My footsteps were never louder in my entire life. Every leave that I stepped on seemed like a gun shot. As did every twig, and every step for that matter. We slipped behind a tree and he showed me how to hold a flashlight in the darkness without exposing my position.

“How do you know all this, Ricky?” I whispered in his ear. He quietly chuckled to himself and whispered back, “I use to be a loan shark.” He then gave me a smile and a wink. We’d slowly pressed on to behind the shed. Suddenly I heard a loud noise behind us. I was about to freak out but Ricky looked at me and sighed. “Something fell from a tree.” He whispered. “After you’ve spent a good amount of time in the woods, you start to distinguish noises from what should and shouldn’t be there.” He added.

My eyes panned up to the stars. They were more beautiful then I remembered. Ricky pulled out a pocket flashlight and looked at me for a second. “Get down. Slowly.” He whispered. We both slid to a tire that was lying next to the shed. He pulled out a flash light and concealed the tip so that no light was visible. “This is gonna fuck with anyone who’s been watching us. It’s called the Flashlight Game.”

He then moved his thumb off the bulb for a half a second and moved it back on. And did this a few more times. He did this for a couple minutes and then stopped. “Now we play the patience game. Some of the people out here have been doing this a long time and are very patient; you just have to out wait them.” He whispered in my ear. We sat there, motionless for the next, what seemed like, five minutes (although I’m not sure how long we were REALLY there for). Out of nowhere I heard gravel shuffling and saw bright lights heading our way. “GET DOWN!” he whispered loudly. We both ducked for cover, not moving an inch. My mind was racing and every single noise I heard was being processed all at once. The cricket chirps, the squirrels moving around, night time birds, nothing was missed. I heard every single thing. My adrenaline was building like crazy. The car seemed to take an hour to leave (20 seconds, real time). Ricky turned to me with a rather large grin and whispered “That was cool wasn’t it?”

I let out a large breath and responded with a nod and a tiny smile. After a couple more minutes we began to see a red light flickering on and off. I had that familiar feeling in my heart again. Ricky leaned over and whispered to me, “That’s just a tweeker playing the flashlight game. He can’t actually see us.”

I nodded and watched as he kept shining his flashlight on me, hoping that Ricky was right, as I was about ready to piss myself. Eventually it stopped, and Ricky told me that it was time to move on. We slowly crept behind a shed, doing the heal technique he taught me. I just watched him, the person I had known of for a very long time, doing this with relative ease, almost like it was a carefree sport. It kind of blurred my judgment and made me question what sort of things. Before I could process anything, a bright light docked the shed, and I jumped down like I was on fire, but Ricky just stood there, motionless. It was a very quiet car, pacing back and forth. At this point, I’m not sure if time was racing forward, or slowing down. But whatever the case, it was a disheartening blow to see that we could be arrested very quickly if that was an undercover cop. After they drove off, Ricky began to quietly laugh to himself again. “You know, I did the exact same thing my first time.”

We then had to climb up a hill to get to the back door. The night heat and hot clothes were beginning to get to me, for whatever reason. (I guess August in the south isn’t always a pleasant experience). We were at an incline with a large opening by the door. Ricky looked back at me for a moment, then turned around and did a power walk across it. He peeked around the corner and signaled me to come along. I did the same power walk and stopped beside him. We were now posted beside this odd little shack with tools and things. Ricky told me that the key was in there, and that I needed to stand guard. He was messing around in there looking for it, and I was standing on the opposite side of the backside of the driveway looking. Then, after about 10 or so minutes, the whole plan had gone awry. A car had stopped at the driveway and someone had gotten out. I signaled to Ricky to abort. I don’t actually remember what happened after that, and truth be told, I don’t think I want to. But what I do remember is after the car was gone; Ricky had the key and turned the doorknob in such a way that it made no noise. We both discretely slipped inside, and closed the door behind us. It’s an odd feeling being in a house where no one’s in. A little spooky, you get this paranoid feeling, and it seems like it almost has a super natural aura to it. The moonlight was shining in through the curtains, so everything was brightly illuminated. It seemed like the place had been ransacked, as there was crap strewn everywhere. Left over forks, dishes, pans, etc…

Ricky signaled me to come forward, and we crept down the hallway. There were 5 doors. 1 closet, 1 bathroom, and 3 bedrooms, and to the side, was the living room. We didn’t pay much attention to the living room, and checked the first bedroom. Ricky cocked and eyebrow and pointed to the open window shades. He whispered in my ear, “They’re open so that when the moonlight hits, you can see outside real well. It’s an old way to keep tabs on your stuff.”

Once again, I nodded, and we checked the other three rooms, ignoring the bathroom, to find the same thing in each. The window shades were opened. Ricky whispered that there had definitely been someone here, someone experienced. We made our way back to the kitchen, and heard a noise coming from downstairs. At that very moment, I remembered that there might be people in this house, armed and dangerous. I asked Ricky what we’d do if they had a gun. His response was less than comforting. “Well then, we’re fucked.” He whispered with a grin. As we descended to the lower levels of the house, odd noises kept popping up. Ricky turned on his flashlight, as the basement was pitch black. We searched around for a door knob to the laundry room/storage to see if anyone was there. At that moment, we heard a sliding door open and close. Ricky and myself both looked at each other with a look of discontent. Ricky let out a childish giggle and said to me “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

We weren’t as careful with our escape, but there was definitely someone there in that house when we were. I wonder who it was…

Submitted: December 29, 2013

© Copyright 2020 Xavior. All rights reserved.

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