by James Jester

Created on: July 09, 2009   Last Updated: July 16, 2009

First off, I'll begin by saying that my family has always been very superstitious and this is partly because of all the wise-tales my great-grandmother told us through-out the years. She was an old Native American woman who held her traditions close to her heart. Her biggest fear was owls; from her learning, they were spirits that were either bringing death or safety, but through her experiences they had only ever brought upon the more morbid of the two.

Anyhow, I never really paid much heed to these stories, and when I was about eight years old she passed away. Around this time, my dad had become very entertained by my Playstation game console, that I received for Christmas that year, and enjoyed a particular game called, "Resident Evil". Which, in case you don't know, is filled with zombies and outrageously ominous undead monstrosities. I soon found myself watching him play this game on a daily basis; lying on the couch, I would watch in terror, but was never able to take my eyes off the television. Almost immediately, I began to have a recurring nightmare where the theme of the game was most evident.

To entertain the ending of this story, I feel as though a description of this dream, is necessary. To start, my father's side of the family lived in a small fishing-oriented community in Arkansas,surrounded by a huge lake, and they were all within a few short miles of each other. I spent most of my time at my grandparent's or great-grandmother's (not the one mentioned above). All of my favorite cousin's lived in the area, so that is where I enjoyed spending my time during the day.

The dream would start in the evening, right before sunset. Me and my younger cousin, we'll call him David, would be outside my grandparent's house when he would decide to go exploring into the woods. Of course, I would oblige, and off we would go. After running into the woods a ways, we would always come to a small bridge, which wasn't there outside of my dream, and take a rest. The sun would be disappearing behind the large oaks, and we would be deciding whether or not to go home.

Then, to our dismay, a man in a black duster and cowboy hat would appear a short distance away and we would always be scared. At this point we precede to crawl under the bridge we sat upon as to hide. The man never saw us and would walk aimlessly for a spell until he made his way to about ten feet away from our hiding place. He was tall with long finger-nails, and he would always remove his hat that

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