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The Whispering Timbers

2/4/2018

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​​I can’t think of anything better than opening up the windows in the spring time and enjoying the fresh air, gentle wind, and sounds of birds in the evening. It’s as relaxing as anything I can think of and one of my fondest memories growing up. It doesn’t matter what part of the country you’re from, you can still enjoy the peacefulness of a nice cool dusk. In fact, having such a nice open yard with large living room windows and big front porch is a large reason I bought the house I live in now. I envisioned having wonderful nights on the swing for many years to come when I first saw it on the market.
 
That all changed on one of the very first nights I was able have all the windows open. I just wanted some fresh air; instead all I got was an uneasy feeling and a bit of a fright too. I was sitting there, reading a book, sipping on some sun tea, and enjoying myself. It was a long winter and I was just happy to finally be able to air the house out a bit and enjoy the temperate weather like in the good old days. I can’t say for certain how long it was before I noticed that none of the birds were chirping, but it was long enough for me to finish a few chapters and half my drink. I only noticed because I began to listen to the wind and only then realized that there weren’t the familiar bird songs to accompany it. It was in that moment that I first heard what caused the shiver down my spine.
 
It was the sound of voices coming from somewhere outside, which wouldn’t have been unusual, had they not been calling my name in a very monotone, yet sing-song voice. I hadn’t lived in the neighborhood long enough for anyone to know my name and I certainly wasn’t expecting any of my friends that time of day to drop by uninvited. And if they had, why would they have just stood somewhere outside calling to me? That wasn’t a question I wanted to find out, so I closed the windows and tried to ignore what I had heard. A couple of weeks went by and the weather had shifted back to being too cold for open windows, so it was a relief in a sense that I didn’t have to be confronted with that again. And I even forgot about it for the most part by the time it warmed back up outside.
 
My mother had come down from Lincoln to have dinner and spend some time with me, as we didn’t get much of a chance during the winter months thanks to all the snow. She and I had a good time preparing a nice meal and she filled me in on all the details and gossip going on around town and with the family. It was quickly shaping up to be a splendid day and we planned on capping it off with a nice, relaxing sit-down on the porch with some coffee. We were both sitting on the swing and chatting away when I realized that the birds had stopped making sound again. The wind picked up and I knew right away what was going to happen once more; and right on queue it did.
 
The same voices that called out to me that first time while I was inside began to call out my name again, but were much more clear now that I was outside with them. And, to make matters worse, a few other voices were calling out my mother’s name. We both looked at each other with what must have been looks of shock but didn’t dare move. There was nobody in sight that could have been saying our names with as much clarity and pitch as they were, but whoever or whatever it was didn’t seem to want to stop. The trees began to sway and bend in the wind and the voices calling out our names got more and more intense.

A branch snapped and that sent the two of us jumping out of the swing and dashing back into the house. I closed the door and locked the deadbolt and went to every window and did the same. We weren’t sure what to do, so we called the police and waited together in the kitchen. It felt like hours but might have only been half of one before the police arrived. We watched them search around the house with their flashlights before one of them knocked on the door. I spoke with him and explained what happened, but he wasn’t sure what it could have been. They didn’t find anyone or anything that looked out of place and just told us to keep the doors locked and an eye out for anything else unusual.
 
I stopped opening my windows and sitting outside after that night, and the whole experience ruined what was once one of my favorite pastimes. I’m considering selling the house, but what if those voices follow me? What if I start hearing them inside the house? I just don’t know what I’m going to do. All I know is that I never want to hear my name called out in that way again; there was something very evil  hidden behind that alluring voice.

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