“Camping Trip”

    I really enjoy camping. Camping has always been a hobby of mine; it’s always been something I never quit doing. Sometimes I’d go with friends, but the best part of camping is going by yourself. I don’t know if it’s the beauty of being alone in nature or the thrill of making it on your own without the help from society. I just love camping, but that doesn’t change the fact that there have been a few creepy or scary moments. Encountering a bear or having a bear sniff your tent at night is pretty adrenaline inducing. Encountering any large animal while camping or hiking is quite scary, but the scariest thing that can happen to anyone while camping is meeting another person.

I have only had a few encounters with people. One time I heard footsteps outside my tent. They stopped maybe 20 feet away and continued on. There was another time where a man actually came up and started talking to me one evening. He startled me at first, but we ended up having a good conversation. Although I may of had good experiences with people while camping, that doesn’t change the fact that I dread to run into anyone. The fact of being alone with another person that you don’t know, miles away from any form of civilization, is terrifying.

Two months ago, I went camping and hiking alone on this trail in Washington. It was a trail I wanted to go on for awhile, and with the beautiful weather coming in there wasn’t a better time to do it. I was hiking alone up that mountain. It was quite peaceful. The landscape around me looked as if it was from a photograph. Absolutely stunning!

I started to set up camp because it was getting late. I was ready to sit by the fire and began eating my Ball Park Hot Dogs. While eating, I noticed signs that maybe I wasn’t alone up there. I noticed trash and signs of past campsites a hundred feet or so from my newly set up campsite. I was furious! It’s campers code to not leave trash or any signs of a campsite when you leave. I looked around and saw what looked like a ballerinas uniform on a branch right next to rubbage. I sighed and started to pick up the trash, cursing whoever made all this mess.

Later that night, I awoke to the sound of music. It sounded like a lullabye. I went to go grab my handgun, which I carry to be able to defend myself just in case a bear or any wild animal was to attack me or anything. I went to go open up the tent very slowly, just to get a peek outside. As soon as my hand touched the zipper, a lot of loud noises started to be made just outside my tent. It sounded like things were being thrown around. Needless to say, I was terrified. I just stood still, firearm in hand, and didn’t move at all.

I didn’t sleep that night. When I came out the next morning I saw the mess. The bag I put all the trash in was ripped up and garbage littered the ground around my tent.

”Stupid bears,” I murmured, but a part of me knew it wasn’t bears. If it was bears, what about the music. I picked up the trash again, and carried on my way.

Around midday, I was gathering water by a stream. While admiring everything around me, I noticed something that gave me the chills. The same ballerina uniform was on the branch across the stream. You know that feeling you get when you can just tell someone is watching you? That was the feeling I was getting at that very moment. I looked around frantically to see if anyone was there, but there was nobody. I was still completely alone. I ignored the ballerina uniform this time and continued my hike. I didn’t want anything to do with it.

Most of you may be wondering why I didn’t turn back, and to be honest with you I ask myself the same thing. Maybe I just assumed I was going crazy. You know when you hear your name when nobody's home and just blow it off as your imagination? That was what I was doing. There was nobody up here with me. There was no car in the parking lot down the mountain besides mine when I got there. It wasn’t a popular trail. So, I just blew it off as the solitude just messing around with my head. That’s what I was hoping at least.

On the third day, I reached the peak and started my descend down. Nothing really creepy happened to me ever since the ballerina uniform across the stream, and the feeling of being watched started to die down a bit. Later that evening, while setting up camp, I heard what sounded like a whisper. I tried to get closer, trudging through branches and leaves, to hear what it was saying and what I found was a lot worse. The same ballerina uniform was on a broken branch not even eight feet away from me. I turned back to go get my handgun, but there was a young woman blocking my way back to my tent.

She looked like she was in her early 20s and was skinny with black hair. She was just looking down at the ground whispering something. It was like something out of a horror movie.

“Hello,” I said a little shakily, “do you need anything? Are you lost?”

She didn’t say anything. She just kept murmuring something underneath her breath. I got close enough to hear what she was saying.

“Sarah,” she murmured, “Sarah.”

Sarah? Why was she murmuring Sarah?

“Who’s Sarah?” I asked gently, “is she your friend? Is she lost?”

As soon as I said Sarah, the woman looked up and stared at me. She looked off to say the least. She had scrapes and mud on her face sure, but it wasn’t all that crap that made her look off. It was her eyes. Her eyes look empty, but fully conscious at the same time, and they stayed locked on me. I didn’t know what to do. I started to walk backwards towards the trail. I didn’t want to leave all my stuff just laying here, but this girl was crazy.

Then the girl started to laugh, and not laughing at a funny joke laugh, more like a, “I’m nuts and should be in a mental asylum,” sort of laugh.

I started to walk faster not taking my eyes off the women; I was afraid if I did she would run after me or something. She was blocking my way back to the tent, and if she wasn’t just crazy but happened to be dangerous too, I would have to make a run back to the car. It was far sure, but my blood was pumping with adrenaline and maybe—-

I hit something walking backwards. It was soft and small, but it was enough to stop be in my tracks. Turning around, taking my eyes off the lady, I saw something that stopped the air in my throat, making me choke. What I saw was a little girl in a ballerina uniform. Her uniform was mangled and covered in old mud and grass stains. Her arms and legs were all scratched up and she had three deep claw marks on the right side of her face. She just stared at me with green, bloodshotted eyes and said…

“She’s gonna get you too.”

A scream erupted behind me and turning around saw that the lady was sprinting right at me. It was so terrifying that I couldn’t move, like those nightmares you sometimes get when you know you wanna run but you can’t; it’s like your legs decided just then to fall asleep saying something like, “sorry but now's good for me. How about you?”

For a second, I even convinced myself that it was a nightmare. That the lady would come over here and grab me then I’d wake up, but a voice deep in my mind kept telling me to run and get out of there before it was too late. Before she would grab me with those grimy finger nails, and claw me, and beat me until the rest was history. Assuming this was a nightmare was a dangerous thought, maybe even life threatening.

I turned around, the little girl was gone, and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. Jumping over rocks and branches with crazy agility surprising me so much that I almost forgot the problem at hand but only almost. There was no way I could be so forgetful with the sound of her breath right behind me. The sound of her raspy panting and her light but intimidating footsteps. The thought of her catching up and grabbing me was enough to keep me going.

I ran down the trail speeding past towering conifers and firs which were seas of darkness in the setting sun. I ran past the stream and instinctively looked over where I saw the ballerina uniform. There sat the bloodied little girl waving at me as if to say “see you later.”

Tears clouded my eyes as I continued my journey down. I put some distance between the psychopath, but I could still hear the snapping of twigs and her sinister laughter. In the distance, I saw the parking lot at the beginning of the trail. I saw my red sedan gleaming in the moonlight and that was the first real sense of relief I had since the first night. Another wave of adrenaline hit me and I made my way to the car. I was so close, so close to get away from this nightmare. So close to the cool air conditioning and the comfort of my leather seats. So close to life.

I hit the gravel that lined the parking lot and ran to the driver side door. I felt around for my keys and then all the dread and terror seeped back into my body. I left the car keys back at camp.

I turned to look at the trail, and the sounds of snapping twigs and laughter got louder and louder. Cursing I sat down, my will crumbling like broken glass. I leaned back, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. Damn, I really hate camping.