Speaker 1: When I was thirteen years old, I had an unforgettable
Speaker 1: experience in the woods near my home in northern Georgia.
Speaker 1: I was exploring with three friends, one of whom entertained
Speaker 1: us with random stories. As we wandered through the forest,
Speaker 1: my friends decided to run ahead, laughing as they disappeared
Speaker 1: into the trees, leaving me behind. I didn't mind. I've
Speaker 1: never been one to run unless it was necessary, so
Speaker 1: I kept walking at my own pace, soaking in the
Speaker 1: stillness of nature. My friends came sprinting back towards me.
Speaker 1: There was panic written on their faces, and before I
Speaker 1: could react, a large tree limbs swung into my path.
Speaker 1: It hit me hard and it knocked me to the ground.
Speaker 1: The impact knocked the wind out of me, and I
Speaker 1: gasped for air as I tried to understand what had
Speaker 1: just happened. A little later, one of my friends grabbed
Speaker 1: me by my arm, pulled me to my feet. Run,
Speaker 1: he shouted. I didn't hesitate. I turned and bolted after
Speaker 1: my friends and we fled, and I heard the sound
Speaker 1: of heavy footfalls behind us, and there were snapping branches
Speaker 1: in the thud of something large slimming into the trees.
Speaker 1: There was also a deep, laboring panting, like whatever was
Speaker 1: chasing us was close. It was way too close. Even now,
Speaker 1: I have no idea what it was. Was it a
Speaker 1: bigfoot or some other creature. Well, I'll never know, but
Speaker 1: the memory still sends chills down my spine. Years later,
Speaker 1: I moved with my mother to another part of northern Georgia,
Speaker 1: where I now take care of her. One Saturday morning,
Speaker 1: around six am, I got up early for work. I
Speaker 1: was half asleep, and I threw on my clothes and
Speaker 1: I stepped outside to lock the door. Just as I
Speaker 1: turned the key, a sound pierced the stillness. It wasn't
Speaker 1: a scream or an animal's cry. It was a call,
Speaker 1: one I'd never heard before. The sound was deep and guttural,
Speaker 1: and it carried a strange, almost haunting quality, nothing like
Speaker 1: a human or animal could make. Worst of all, it
Speaker 1: came from just around the corner of my house, next
Speaker 1: to me. Well fear washed over me. I was too
Speaker 1: afraid to investigate, so I locked the door as quickly
Speaker 1: as possible, and I walked away, pretending I hadn't heard it.
Speaker 1: For days, that sound lingered in my mind. Its unnatural
Speaker 1: tone was impossible to forget. Two weeks later, more strange
Speaker 1: things began happening. My mother and I found a reddish
Speaker 1: brown hair tangled on the side of our fence. Around
Speaker 1: the same time, my mother managed to take a photo
Speaker 1: of something standing in the woods. It was watching her
Speaker 1: and our dogs, though partially obscured by the trees. The
Speaker 1: figure was tall and unnerving, with a reddish brown hair.
Speaker 1: I was determined to figure out what was going on,
Speaker 1: so I asked my neighbor to help me investigate. He
Speaker 1: was a close friend. Late one night, armed with a flashlight,
Speaker 1: we went into the woods where the figure had been spotted.
Speaker 1: The forest floor was covered with leaves and natural debris,
Speaker 1: making it impossible to find clear footprints, but we did
Speaker 1: notice deep impressions in the ground where something heavy had stood.
Speaker 1: And as we discussed our findings back at my front door,
Speaker 1: a loud, piercing whoop echoed from the woods. The sound
Speaker 1: was immediately followed by a deep, unsettling laugh that sounded
Speaker 1: so powerful it vibrated our chests. My neighbor drew his
Speaker 1: pistol and I ran inside to warn my mom not
Speaker 1: to let the dogs out. I grabbed my phone and
Speaker 1: rushed back outside to join him. We stood together, trying
Speaker 1: to make sense of what we were hearing. Then another
Speaker 1: call rang out, This one was different from the first.
Speaker 1: Then came the distinct sound of tree knocks that were
Speaker 1: sharp and deliberate, as if something was communicating with us
Speaker 1: or warning us to stay put. We got the message
Speaker 1: loud and clear and decided not to push our luck.
Speaker 1: Since that night, strange activity around our home has become
Speaker 1: almost normal. We hear clicking sounds, grunts, tree knocks, and
Speaker 1: calls that very in pitch and tone. Each sound feels distinct,
Speaker 1: leading me to believe there's more than one creature in
Speaker 1: the area. It's as if they're communicating with each other
Speaker 1: and possibly watching us. Wife chosen to keep my name
Speaker 1: in location anonymous because I don't want anyone disturbing the
Speaker 1: creatures that seem to share the space with us. If
Speaker 1: they're peaceful, they'll stay peaceful. For now. We coexist and
Speaker 1: we keep a respectful distance. I hope it stays that way.
Speaker 1: I am a social worker and I spend ninety percent
Speaker 1: of my time in my car. On this day, I
Speaker 1: was driving my challenger over a mountain pass and I
Speaker 1: had a fifteen year old client riding shotgun. She was
Speaker 1: a foster child from Feather County who had been kicked
Speaker 1: out of her home. The county was small, a pale
Speaker 1: reflection of the Appalachian settlers where I come from. We
Speaker 1: called a Feather County residents. Hillbilly's meth was a major export,
Speaker 1: and as my partner once said, people don't give a
Speaker 1: damn about kids up here. Part Way through our drive,
Speaker 1: my client asked if she could plug her phone into
Speaker 1: my stereo. Your old man music is good, but this
Speaker 1: is a long ride, she said. She was being more
Speaker 1: than kind. Some of the groups that I had hit
Speaker 1: their heyday and retired long before she was born. I'm
Speaker 1: pretty sure that she had never heard of Jimmy Page.
Speaker 1: The light began to fade as we climbed into Lassan
Speaker 1: National Park. The road curved at dangerous angles, with sheer
Speaker 1: drops into what seemed like bottomless canyons. The setting sun
Speaker 1: flickered blindingly between the leaves and needles of trees that
Speaker 1: flanked the highway, and a deer grazed on the shoulder
Speaker 1: and it looked up startled as I suddenly slammed on
Speaker 1: the brakes, The Chevy pickup behind me barked at the
Speaker 1: bumper of the car. It sad like shining in my
Speaker 1: rear view mirror, the driver probably shouting curses at me.
Speaker 1: But I had had no choice. I had to slow
Speaker 1: down or I would have run straight into the beast
Speaker 1: that stood up out of nowhere in the middle of
Speaker 1: the road. It was jet black and impossibly huge. What
Speaker 1: the hell? Came the teenage squeal from the shotgun seat.
Speaker 1: I hit the brakes harder and spun the wheel to
Speaker 1: avoid it, and the tires screeched in protest as I
Speaker 1: cranked the wheel, doubting there was enough room left on
Speaker 1: the highway to miss the beast and the edge of
Speaker 1: the road. The monster let out a roar and blended
Speaker 1: in with the horn of the truck behind me, and
Speaker 1: my high school traffic safety instructor screamed from twenty five
Speaker 1: year old memories, Turn into the skid, Turn into it.
Speaker 1: I cranked the wheel like a speed racer rerun. What
Speaker 1: was that smell? Was it burning rubber? Had I hit
Speaker 1: a skunk? It all ran through my mind in one second.
Speaker 1: The car came to a rest and a puddle of
Speaker 1: pine needles at the side of the road, and I
Speaker 1: looked to my right out the passenger side window. The
Speaker 1: pickup rested broadside in the middle of the road, and
Speaker 1: the Bigfoot, I narrowly avoided heating, took two steps and
Speaker 1: disappeared into the tree. I sat there for a minute,
Speaker 1: breathing and collecting my thoughts, and I looked at my client.
Speaker 1: She dropped the F bomb as she questioned the nature
Speaker 1: of reality. We both stared at where the Bigfoot had disappeared.
Speaker 1: I pulled the charger back onto the highway, and the
Speaker 1: baseball cap guy in the pickup waved as I passed
Speaker 1: him at five miles an hour, looking as stupefied as
Speaker 1: I felt he had seen the creature too. I turned
Speaker 1: off the radio, stunned into silence, and neither of us
Speaker 1: uttered a sound as we drove back to her Foster
Speaker 1: home