Personal Narrative-The Boogey Man

Throughout the course of our childhood, we have all been told frightening stories. Whether those stories were about “The Boogey Man” or “Bloody Mary” or even an original story, they all served one purpose, to frighten us into behaving. I really wish I had listened to my mother, I really wish I hadn’t tried to be the moron I was, if only I had experienced the slightest ounce of fear to prevent me from entering the woods, especially at night, when evil is said to be at its strongest. As a child, I was raised my whole life in the country side. My mother and I had lived for years in a lonely shack at the edge of the small village we called home. At the very edge of the village was an eerie forest, a forest that seemed to beckon unwary fools into entering it. I was always told as a child to never go near the forest, especially at night. Some people say that a bear lives there, while others say that a serial killer lives there, and some even say that a monster lives there, either way the forest is always portrayed with death. I remember various occasions in which I would wake up for reasons unknown, only to find myself outside in my backyard staring at the edge of the forest, the soft moonlight caressing my bare skin, the crisp night air followed by the refreshing scent of grass. On one occasion I thought I heard a
The jacket still smelled of him. The faint scent of cologne was his, as I put it on, I felt something in the pockets, as I pulled it out I realized this was a note. I opened it and realized this one undeniably my mother’s handwriting. The note said “Wherever you go, just know that your brother and I will always love you, just keep in mind that there is always a place in this house for you, I love you”. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, lumps in my throat, before I knew it my cheeks grew warmer and I felt tears streaming down my face. This was the first time I had cried since my mother