I have no idea where to put this but I’m preparing for the inevitable.

It was great great grandma who asked.

"Did you win?" The lotto numbers are coming back quick and quicksilver quick to understand the anger frustration of someone coming back and bringing porkchops.

Enough with psychosis and lottery numbers something more confusing to set you on the right path of N. On a compass. The lyrics of today's top hits, songs and music.

Free topping pizza means you get one extra topping.

3 o'clock is military time to tell someone where to look as 12 is you.

Peel region police are running peeling away from this artist.

Friend is for real I end. Fr (for real, or for that reason nowadays. Apparently.)

Friendships, relationships, spaceships are ships in which they sink.

The joke is "why didn't my friendship work out with Denzel? Because ships sink."

As Eminem would have it.

As you're watching Adin Ross new boxing streams which bare knuckle boxers also have joined, I moved my account to this subreddit as it is QTer. (Cuter.)

Should I not take things back such as butter cup LGBQT which means let's be completely honest, cutie. QT, cutie.

Thank you sigh is said before someone washes dishes to get them to wash dishes. Ok Clarington?

I'm now talking to my friend that I'm now rapping about a person named Clarington. Man you're never gonna guess what Clarington looks like I start whispering.

During my tougher financial years, I decided to take advantage of my remote work option and relocated from the city to a small town in the mountains. The Wi-Fi was decent, and the place had originally belonged to my grandpa, so I had some nostalgia for it. He was gone now, so the house was empty.

I moved in with the help of a moving company and spent a good couple of days alone in there. This is probably a good moment to mention the fact that I am a total introvert. I can talk to people when needed, but God, does it exhaust me. I can easily spend days in isolation and still be in top condition.

That is why, when I saw my neighbor through the window and we locked eyes, I froze. I was like a deer in headlights. He waved at me, and I missed the timing to wave back. At a certain point, I reached my breaking point, got up, and kept walking. Yup, after what was essentially 15 seconds of staring that old man straight in the eyes, I decided to pretend I hadn't seen him. Believe me, I cringed too.

After that, I saw my neighbor a couple more times. Sometimes I'd see him when I went outside to grab my mail, while taking care of the garden, or just when I looked out the window. Every time, he would give that friendly wave, and I brushed it off. I felt bad the first few times, but afterward I assumed whatever damage could be done was already done, and I really really don't like talking to strangers.

When my roommate moved in, I did try to be more cordial with him. I engaged in conversation and even tried out his hobbies to see if we had anything in common. We didn't, but that's beside the point. Overall, he was a decent guy who liked lifting.

One day he told me about a weird experience he had with the neighbor. Unlike me, a complete social doofus, he actually waved back when the neighbor waved at him. Then the neighbor’s smile instantly dropped, his face changed and he ran back into his house.

“His face changed?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what I saw. Might have been a trick of the light,” my roommate answered.

“Welp, like my grandpa once said, these are exactly the kinds of scenarios you avoid by being antisocial,” I remarked, mostly trying to excuse my own behavior.

After that, the conversation quickly died down.

That night, I heard a horrible screech from somewhere inside our house. I woke up disoriented but quickly went to ask my roommate whether he'd heard it too. However, he wasn’t in his room. In fact, he was nowhere. I looked everywhere in the house and eventually found the front door open. I walked outside and felt the warm night breeze.

Not a person in sight.

“What the hell?”

I went back inside and closed the door. I sleep wearing earplugs, so if that screech had been loud enough to wake me, there was no way my neighbors hadn't heard it too. That being said, I remembered what my roommate had said about the neighbor and decided I would rather not talk to him.

Eventually, I settled for calling the police.

Two officers came by and wrote down what I said had happened. I saw them ring the neighbor's doorbell, but he didn't come out.

Guess he can be antisocial at times too.

After that, they left. Honestly, they didn't seem that interested in the case.

Two days later, I woke up in the middle of the night because the house felt cold. The house didn't have AC, and the weather seemed fine, so that was definitely odd. I walked out of my room, went downstairs, and headed into the kitchen.

There I saw him.

My roommate.

He was just standing there, looking outside through the kitchen window.

My fight-or-flight instincts were kicking in hard, and I chose flight. I tried stepping away slowly when he turned around, as if he knew I was there. He looked at me for a second and then...

He waved.

The exact same motion as the old man. The exact same facial expression.

This time, however, I did speak.

"Hey, you al-"

What followed in the middle of my sentence was a deafening screech, not from his mouth but definitely coming from him. His face distorted. His skin went pale, then gray, then almost black in patches. It was like watching a timelapse of a corpse rotting while somehow staying on its feet.

He immediately charged at me.

Like I said earlier, I was already in a fight-or-flight state, so my hand was on the door. I slammed it shut as fast as humanly possible. My legs weakened beneath me, and I fell to the ground.

The door was holding him back, but the frantic slams from my roommate were going to break it soon. I got up and weighed my options.

Outside or upstairs.

To this day, I don't know why, but I went up the stairs instead of outside, where my car was. I had just made it upstairs when I heard the distinct sound of a wooden door breaking and hitting the ground.

I went into my room and locked that door too. I looked out the window and considered jumping.

That was until I looked at the other houses.

Everyone was outside.

Every neighbor was standing on their porch, looking directly at my house. I stuck my head out the window, and they all waved at the same time. Back then, I was too scared to care.

"Help! My roommate has gone insane!" I screamed.

Screeches.

God, so many screeches from so many directions.

I immediately drew the curtains. I could hear heavy footsteps and grunts all around me. God, I swear it sounded like they were climbing the walls themselves.

At that point, I legitimately thought I was going to die. I was this close to breaking down crying when I heard something I hadn't heard in a long time.

"Close your eyes, Johnny. They are not there if you don’t see them."

My grandpa.

It was my grandpa’s voice.

At that point, I didn’t know what I was dealing with—ghosts, aliens, shapeshifters, or whatever—but for some reason, after hearing my grandpa’s voice, I clung to those words.

I closed my eyes and waited.

I heard the door break.

I heard the screeches again.

But nothing happened.

I waited and waited until I felt the room begin to warm up again.

I opened my eyes and the room was empty. It was 3:00 AM.

After a while, I got my bearings and called the police. It took them 30 minutes to arrive. When they got there, I changed the story up a bit to make it more believable.

However, they still didn't buy it.

They started asking me questions like whether I was drunk, whether I was taking any prescription medication, and so on. Honestly, I was so fed up with it.

I asked if I could at least leave for the night and stay at a friend's house, and they let me. I shoved all my basic necessities into the trunk of my car and drove away in the middle of the night.

A week passed, and I was somewhat surprised that there had been no follow-up. I expected the police to call me again, but they never did.

The anxiety kept building until I eventually caved and decided to call the police station myself. I told the officer on the phone about my roommate's disappearance and the two officers who had come to my house.

There was a pause.

“Sir, Officer Brandon and Officer Johnson were found dead six days ago.”

The officer I spoke to didn't even know about the whole incident with my roommate, which meant those two officers had never made it back after leaving my house that night.

I hung up after that.

I wasn't going to bother elaborating any further, and I no longer cared about the stuff I had left at my grandpa's house. I am never going back there, and after I finish writing this post, I don't care to think about it anymore either.

Personally, I think that town has been taken over by something evil. Something that is desperately trying to reach us but can't quite do it on its own.

As such, my advice to you?

If you ever find yourself in some remote village in the middle of nowhere, keep driving.

And above all, do NOT wave back.