I don't care who believes me and who doesn't. When I was about 14 years old, my mother and I lived in a small town of Kentucky. The name is irrelevant. We lived in the backwoods of this small town, up on hill set back a ways into the woods. Neighbors were a country mile away; everybody likes their privacy.
One June summer night around 3am, I awoke from a deep sleep. What woke me up? I have no clue. But my television was on and it was white noise. I'm not sure why, but I was instantly terrified. As I lay in my bed, my breathing quickens at the silence in the room. All of a sudden, I could see my breath. Like I was standing outside in the middle of December. But it's June! I'm frozen. I can't move or think. I lay still for what seemed like an eternity. What felt like eons later, the room became normal again. Warm, cozy, and my television returned to whatever show I had fallen asleep to.
What was it? Who knows. And honestly, I'm okay with not knowing. Take my story for what you want. I know what's true.
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