This was written a few of months ago.


Andy
Monday, October 10, 2011 :: 4:05am
Home

There is something outside of my trailer. I live out in the middle of the woods in some property that my uncle had acquired, and sold off to my moms. And there is, really, something outside this trailer at three in the morning. At first, I just dismissed the sounds I was hearing as critters, or bigger animals going about their business. Though, the animals aren't as interested in this trailer as whatever is outside of my trailer. Sure, I have encountered a couple of coyotes outside in the middle of the night -- although, they are usually more scared of you than you are of them, and when that realization ran through my mind, the coyotes ran out of sight. So I can at least have a meek guess at what kind of psychology animals have. Whatever this something outside of my trailer is, it doesn't follow such psychology. Though, I have not confronted whatever is outside of my trailer, nor do I want to. Its not like, I'm grabbing a flashlight and looking for a mystery with the gang. And it isn't as if I've been bothered yet, so I will leave my fate to my assumptions that I will not be bothered. Although, I am bothered. It feels like something is waiting for SOMETHING out there, outside of my trailer.

Every once in a while, I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, of the window that is dawned upon our front door. Which, mind you, is elevated above the ground, to the point where we have steps at our front door, which are metal and very easy to hear. So every once in a while I catch a glimpse of something white in the window. I cant tell what it is -- though, my own thoughts have illustrated this further to be the girl from the grudge, or that one picture of the girl looking in the mirror as her reflection is screaming at her. Scraggly thin hair, and a scowl that wont escape my imagination, even while I write this. Though, the weird thing is, I don't hear anything! No steps, no hurried scurry of an escape.

When I do hear something though, it isn't in relation to seeing something in the window, but rather just random noises from the creatures of the night. I figure mice or maybe even gophers are making the sounds that I hear directly below me; which mostly sounds like scurrying, or rustling. Until I heard something sliding against the trailer, AND FELT IT. I felt the trailer move in its entirety as whatever is outside my trailer pushed itself against it, and slid from one end to the other. But even this can be relieved to the fact that there are winds -- and strong ones. Maybe something fell and, blew up against the trailer.. Maybe a light branch with a bunch of leaves? I started diffusing the thought that there was something outside of my trailer, until I turned my head to try and catch what I had only caught a glimpse of, something is outside of my trailer.

Now I have something to stare at, something to shake the disbelief from me. I hardly want to turn my head again to look at the sight to write about it. It looks like someone had fogged up on my window and were using worms to carve out lines in their own patch of condensation. The lines looked other-worldly almost, and even now, it holds to be the best description of the art that is now dawned upon my door. I am bothered, the noises are getting worst, is it even windy out?

Aside from that, I am hearing more noises from within the trailer, and I fear that whatever was outside my trailer is no longer outside of my trailer. Though, the fears are instinctual, through concrete reasoning, they have subsided. I am yet to be bothered, therefore nothing will. The concrete reasoning that has kept me in my faith thusfar will be my undoing, I know. I am trying my best to try and ignore everything that is going on outside of my trailer. Whether or not it's an animal, something is outside of my trailer. Waiting for something. Or maybe it is interested. Maybe it wants to know more.

Maybe it isn't an it at all, maybe there is a world-weary, cold, humanized, person out there. Left to the elements due to my anxieties and fears. And even now, I think of the face that would be at my window until I could barely catch a glimpse of it. How grotesque, and twisted. How otherworldly the art that is now dawned upon my front door. How these things aren't that of something humanized, and how I spent fifteen minutes to write this account, how through writing this, I wasn't bothered. How there is something outside of my trailer, though it is not bothering me. Of how I am bothered. I think of how THAT something outside of my trailer has a reason. Of how it got here, and how it will disperse from its current location. I will sit inside my trailer now, and have a look around tomorrow.