This here’s another story, just like the other ones, except that this one is true. Now I knows that, after reading it, you might not feel like believing it at all, and if you don’t – that’s no probs – just take it like a piece of twisted fiction. Where I am now – it won’t matter one jot to me whether you believe or not.

It happened last Thursday. I was sitting on the back stoop, pretty much minding my own business, excepting keeping an eye on Mrs Stevens across the way – washing her windows dressed in a nice halter top and shorts that were so short that she might as well not be wearing any, when Larry rides up on his bike.

Now, Larry is a little bit special. He tells me that he found something in the woods and that I’m to come quick and see it. You might think that the telling of that’d be the work of a few seconds, but Larry kind of likes to go around the block a little when he talks – if you’ve ever read anything by that English dude – Dickens – you’ll get the idea. Plus, he’s got a real bad stutter.

So, to cut a long story short … yeah, yeah, I know – too late. I ups and gets on my bike and we ride down to the woods. By this time it’s getting pretty late and I know mom’s cooking something special on account of it being her birthday, so I wants to get there and back as quick as snap. Thing is, though, them woods is pretty deep in places, and Larry just keeps riding and riding – tearing up the track like he’s got hornets chasing him.

After a while, I kinda starts to feel the air get real chill, like as if the sun’s going down, except I know it ain’t due to dip down until at least a couple of hours after that, so I calls to Larry to hold up and say how much further we gotta go. That’s when it happened.

The sky goes real black, like something humongously big just flew over and there’s this mad buzzing sound coming from deep inside somewhere, like maybe inside my own head. I skid to a stop, pretty much to keep me from smashing into the next tree, and I sees Larry stop too and I thinks to myself – wait up, how come I can see him, but I can’t see trees – ’cause by now it’s gotten real black. Then I realise it’s because Larry’s glowing from the inside.

And aside from that – it aint Larry.

I can see that twisted up face now. I can see that weird glow. I can see him coming closer and closer and me not even being able to move. Like that buzzing is kinda holding me there. And when he binds me with plain old twine I think that I was happy that it weren’t a big old pin, like what Larry sticks into butterflies for his collection. Later on, I thought about that feeling and thought on how the pin would’ve been better. Much better.

I must’ve blacked out because when I came too, she was there. I ain’t gonna tell you nothing about them things she did to me. Not pretty things. Not that kind of things I wants to have done to me by a girl. You might say that stuff is stuff and that any teenage boy wouldn’t mind at all, but that’s horseshit. There’s things that she did that I ain’t even seen on the most worstest porn sites. Bad things that left me hurt.

Anyhow’s, it strikes me that this ain’t nothing like the story I thought I was fixing to tell. I’m home again. But it ain’t home no more. I’m in my bedroom, but it ain’t mine. I’m on this laptop, but … hold on – some kinda noise outside.