June

June of 1967. Ah yes, I remember that year quite well. Why wouldn't I? It was the beginning of the end for me, the start of something I can't take back now. I know who you are, I know why you're here. I bet you've heard the same thing a million time - "It's better not to know", and "Go back while you still can". And they're right. But you know what else? If you've come all the way to find me, then maybe you do have a part in this story. Maybe you'll help us find out what really happened on that day.

The sun was glistening from the golden stalks of sun-burnt grass. It may not seem very poetic to say the world looked cooked, but everything seemed to flow from one golden husk to another . The golden coin of a sun to the golden grass, to the browned trees and goldenrod leaves. It felt like nature was at its prime here, in the valley.

But, oftentimes, normalcy has to end. Well, that's what brings change, right? Well, here it was just a beep. Than another. And soon a monotonous beep began, slow and steady. A song without rhythm. Not expected, but not quite expected. I'm not sure how to explain it - it seems like it was natural, but exciting at the same time. Like the sighting of a hawk, or an eagle. But, not quite so magical. Mabey more like finding a ripple in a otherwise still pond - it seems natural, but unexpected, if that makes sense.

At first, the beep cause quite the stir. Birds flew off their perches on their trees, hares and bunnies ran home to where they felt safest from unidentifiable threats. Deer leapt over fallen branches and trickles of water to get far far away from what could be danger. But soon, they all come back. They always do.

It is funny, how life is like that. It adapts to the strangest of circumstances, always bending and adapting when necessary. We get used to the strange and odd, and just let it be. That is likely how life has survived for this long, just adapting and changing to suit the needs of whatever wants it to change.

And that brings me to the device. After a few minutes of searching through the knotted grass, I found it. It was a little golden triangle with something in the middle, and some form of pictograms on it. I had looked it over a bit, but couldn't tell how it was making the noise. I wasn't even sure if that was making the beeps, but sure enough, it was. Not knowing really what else to do, I had put it in my pocket to bring back to town next time I went. You see, way out there in the fields, I couldn't just drive to town at the drop of a hat for something so trivial. A little machine that beeps? Who would I ask - the barber? The only time I remember any sort of unexpected trip to town was when my mom gave birth to my brother two weeks early. That was quite the surprise.

I had planned on showing the device to my parents when I got back to the house, but one thing led to another and soon it was dark, and I still had the device. It had stopped beeping at this point, now nothing more than a wedge of gold and strange shapes. Back in the field, it had seemed so normal, but back there in the house, it had seemed so odd, so out of place. It felt like trying to bring the moon to earth - so glaringly out of place it felt wrong. I spent that night unable to sleep, the only sound in the room my own ragged breathing as everything seemed wrong. The muddy shoes I never washed after coming inside looked like the feet of a sea monster. I recall staring down a perched baseball cap, not able to distinguish what it was in the dark, terrified it was a monster staring back at me.

I don't know how, but I never connected any of this the the device. It was like I was trying to push it out of my mind. Or maybe I just simply forgot about it. Looking back, that may have been for the best. I shouldn't have picked it up, I shouldn't have carried it back. But I was stupid then and now I wish I could take it back. But, you didn't come to hear about the regrets of an old man, you came to hear about the thing that has tormented me all these years.

The next morning, I had cleaned my entire room. I shoved things in boxes and hid anything that had a face. My toy soldiers and the teddy bear I always had on my shelf were hidden in the deepest parts of my closet. I couldn't find the device, but didn't think anything of it. I was a messy kid, and my mom liked to say I could lose an elephant in a locked room. Gosh, I miss her lots, even after all these years. And in case you're wondering, her death had nothing to do with the disappearances. She died a few years later, while giving birth to my youngest sister.

I would love to say that that night was fine, that removing my things made it all better. But it didn't. This time, the shadows had less things to hide behind. Instead of not knowing if what I was seeing was my empty fish tank or a bubble-headed creature, I knew that it was a monster. They slipped about the room as the moon circled over the house. I didn't have a bedside light or anything in those days - all I had was the overhead lights. But to reach them, I'd have to cross the floor infested with monsters. I know it was probably my imagination, but, back in the moment, I could not bring myself to leave the safe confines of my bed, step out to the darkness just to turn on the light.

I should have told my parents then, but I didn't. It was an 11 year old's pride to not be scared of the dark anymore, not cry in fear when the sun sets. I was supposed to be tough, so I stayed quiet. Looking back, I'm not so sure that telling someone would have helped anyways. After weeks of endless torment, and moving back all of my stuff, I had an idea.

Just like any other kid my age, I thought it was genius. I waited for my parents to go to bed, and when they did, I snuck the flashlight into my room. I hid it under my blankets and waited until the monsters showed up. I was going to show myself that it was nothing more that shadows - I thought light would fix it. Boy, was I wrong. I shone to light to the worst of them - the one right by the lightswitch, where I had seen the darkness collect. I hoped it was nothing more than nothing, but it wasn't, not at all. I know I'm stalling at this, but bringing back the memories is just so painful. In the circle of light was a monster. A monster that wasn't a shadow, wasn't just nothing. It had a long face and weirdly short legs, but the front arms were dispoportionatly long. It looked almost human, but not quite. I didn't get to see it long, as I dropped the flashlight, but I watched that thing come to life. It picked up my flashlight and stood still for a bit before starting to move around, looking in my drawers and cabinets. I wanted to close my eyes, pull the blanket over my head and scream, but I was frozen.

It may seem dumb, but eventually I somehow fell asleep. I don't know if that thing cast some sort of spell or if the sleepless nights finally caught up to me but the next thing I know I was awake - safe. I told my older sister what happened and she laughed and told me it was sleep paralysis. I begged her to believe me but she was adamant. I even began to believe it - surely my overactive imagination was getting the better of me. My sister had gone to college and was home for the summer - she knew more than me. But it still gnawed at the corners of my mind. What was that thing? Why did it choose me? Or did it just not care? Was it even real?

I have been thinking of that night for many long years now, over 50 if I'm right. I'm an old man now and a young lad then - so why do I still wonder what would have happened if I had moved. Just a bit. Sometimes, I wish to never go back to then but other times, I don't know. I feel like I need to know, but it almost feels like I'm not meant to know, you know?

Over the next few years I would occasionally find myself alone in the dark, which life often does. While I never saw the creature again for years, I often feel like it was there with me, watching me. I can't saw it was nice, it felt suffocating. Like a bully just waiting for you to make a wrong move. Like a tiger waiting to pounce. I didn't get the impression that they were evil on the first night, but it grew slowly until I couldn't take it anymore. After the later events, I think this was just me and my fault alone, but back then I didn't have the same years I have now to ponder over it. I moved out when I was 19, and went a couple states away. I want you to know that it wasn't just the creatures I was scared of in that town. It felt like the people knew something, and it felt like - well, how do I say this. It felt like I knew it too. I would find myself staring at newcomers like they were alien and I would catch myself gossiping about them. I was a part of that town, whether or not I knew it and whether or not I liked it.

I'll try to keep the next few years short. I found a wife, but she left us just a couple years ago. I had a two kids at that time, one more a few years later, a good job at a factory, managing. I was doing pretty good for myself, but there was something in the back of my mind, slowly creeping in, until it blotted out every other thought. What was that thing I had seen?

It was difficult to convince my wife to go, but we took the kids and spent a month at my old town. I didn't tell her about the things, but she sure was stubborn about the whole thing. She really liked the city and she wasn't willing to head out to the "backwards country", as she called it. Yes, she was stubborn, but I do miss her. Some days, I wake up and wonder where she went before reality kicks back in. I'm sorry for delaying, we just had so many good memories together. I really loved her. But anyways, the story.

We went on the guise of letting the kids have some time with their grandparents, my father had remarried a couple years prior, and for us to relax and get away from city life. Once there, I took a temporary job selling newspapers so we'd have extra money for souvenirs. I had saved up for the last year to earn a vacation for a month, and I didn't want to run out of funds. We stayed at my parent's house, and I got my old bedroom again. There wasn't enough space for two people in that room, and my Paula, my wife, refused to sleep there anyways, so I booked her a motel for a few nights while we figure out the living arrangements. I stayed with her, and things were fine, but I still needed to know - would that thing come back if I was in my room?

I had thought about if for a week while my parents tried to find an air mattress for us to sleep on in the living room. It was a small town and 4 guests at once wasn't very common, even if it was just family. We warned them ahead of time, but they were getting older and not really used to having lots of people anymore. But this gave me the idea for sneaking to my room.

I told Paula that there wasn't any queen matresses in the store, but there was a single. At first she insited I have it, but I refused and told her I would sleep in my old bed. I hadn't let the kids sleep in there, saying that they needed to stay together and my room didn't have a second bed. My wife saw that this would seperate us, but she saw that I need to be alone in that room. I hope she just though I needed the nostalgia, I hope she never found out. Speaking of hopes, I hope that she never found out about that night. It changed me, really changed me. I'm sorry for the backstory, but this is where you want to pay attention because this is what you came here for.

I began the night by bringing up coffee, two flashlights, spare batteries, some matches, and my pocket knife. It may seem overkill but put yourself in my place for once - I had seen something in the dark. We are always told to not be afraid of the dark and there is nothing there. But there was something there. I know it sounds like the ramblings of an old man, but trust me when I say that I was terrified. I don't know what compelled my to turn the lights off, some sort of spell or perhaps pure bravery. But I waited in the dark with my coffee.

I guess I had forgotten to tell you, but I had noticed that I seemed to wake up at the same time every night. It wasn't an important detail until now, but I should've mentioned it. I'm sorry. I did have a clock in my room at the time - a watch - but it didn't have an illuminated face so I'd not be able to read it even if I had it on me. I don't recall the exact time, but I guess I just knew. I spent the time waiting, with no illumination, no lights at all, waiting for this creature to come.

I wish I didn't have to say this but I soon heard my younger son scream my name. I spent a second paralyzed, but soon my parental insticts kicked in. I turned on the light to see the creature once again. This time I didn't drop the flashlight, but I could tell my hand was shaking as I turned the light around my room. There were dozens of these creatures, a bit smaller than people. Their heads were smaller than mine, but their foreheads sloped out, like they were hiding vast amounts of knowledge behind them. They looked like modern people - they even had clothing. It wasn't like ours at the time, but it looked sturdy. My memory fails me on what exactly it was they were wearing, but it looked like something like denim and, not cotton, but like that, if that makes sense. They had 4 legs and seemed to rest on them, but they could stand up as well. They seemed do wrong there, standing in the light. Like deer in the headlights. They were watching me. They were waiting.

After a seocnd, my son screamed my name again and they all turned. All I thought at the moment was to distrct them, keep them away. "What do you want", I had whispered just loud enough for them to hear. I know it sounds cliche but I could really think of nothing better at the moment. I was terrified for myself, scared for my son and my wife and family. I wanted answers - why did they haunt me? Why me?

One of the ones in the back whispered in a cracked voice that sounded like someone just learning english. "You know" it has said. You may be able to guess what they wanted by the start of my tale, but I didn't know this at the time. Remember, to me it was just a peculiar object I had found as a boy, not a big deal. Like finding a cool bottle out in the woods or something.

I will remember this next second for the rest of my life. One crawled up to me at speeds I can harley fathom and licked my face. Its tougue had no moisture and I assume it was some sort of ritual I don't know about. It whispered to me to find it. They all turned and ran out the door and I gave chase, but I could see them going into my son's room. When I went in it again, he was gone. They were all gone.

I called the cops the next morning, as the police didn't operate at night there, but they never found the kidnapper. I cut the vacation short and dragged my grieving family home. I never wanted to go back there, but somehow I did. After my wife died, I reopened the grave and went back. I read my old books and scribbles, and somehow found the device again. It was stuffed in a very old pair of jeans, and as I saw it in the light, I knew that it was what they wanted.

I know you want an ending, but I can't give one to you. Here, take this. I'm an old man now, weak, my health is failing me. I fear I'll be following my wife soon enough and I can't end my own story. Please, save the town. I don't know what happened on that warm June day, but I hope that you can find out.