This is something that happened to me when I was a kid. I was around 12 years old and it was the early 1980’s where I was living in the countryside with my family, surrounded by farm land. It was summer time, so my day involved waking up early to help my dad on the farm. By the afternoon, I would be free. I had a best friend named Tim, who also lived on a farm and had a similar schedule as myself. When either of us was done with our chores for the day, we would call each other over the landline to coordinate our meeting time. We lived close to each other, considering it was the countryside—around a forty minute bike ride from each other. We would usually bike to each other and meet half way. There was a main road that the majority of the bike ride would be on, where it would be straight and flat. This was our meeting point. We would also have these walkie-talkies that would work once we were on this road. So once we turned onto it, we would radio to each other to plan out our day or just talk.

This is how we spent the majority of that summer. Once we were together, we would go on adventures, like explore the forests, creeks, tunnels, small caves, the lakes, and the like. I remember it being a very fun summer, sharing it with a friend with similar interests and willing to go explore any chance we could.

However, around midsummer, Tim started to behave differently. I remember him being less cheerful, he wouldn’t talk much, just listen. He also stopped making jokes and laughing at my jokes—almost like his mind was preoccupied. At the time, I was just a kid and didn’t know how to ask him if he was alright. I simply brushed it off and continued to act and treat him normally.

After a little while, he finally started to talk to me about what was bothering him.

He told me there was something that was watching him.

He told me he would hear things in his room at night. He also said he would see things. One night, he told me he kept hearing something outside, so he looked out his window and saw a silhouette of someone staring at him from the cornfield. He would also say that he would hear voices, like someone whispering inaudible words in his ear as if someone was right beside him, but no one was there.

When he told me this, I was definitely spooked out and worried about my friend. I asked if he told his parents, and I could see tears emerging from his eyes. He told me he told his father about the voices he hears and his dad was infuriated with him. Tim thought he was going to get a beating of a lifetime. His dad went on about Tim being put in a nuthouse and everyone would think he’s a nutcase. He scolded him to be more normal like his siblings and demanded Tim to lose the imagination and never speak of this again, to anybody.

Looking back at it now, I can imagine how much Tim must have felt trapped and alone. He told me the voices and stalking were getting worse, and he was scared to say anything, even to me. I remember I was scared for him, and told him that I would be there for him. That night, we asked our parents if we could have a sleep over and I stayed over Tim’s place to witness these strange occurrences.

That night, we got some snacks, some comics and stayed up late into the night—waiting. It got very late, and I was struggling to stay awake. I didn’t hear or see anything. Eventually, I fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning, I saw Tim sitting in the bed, as if he didn’t sleep all night. He told me that the things were in the room last night. He couldn’t scream or talk to wake me up. He was petrified for hours.

At that point, I got scared. Not from these supposed things he talked about, but I was scared for Tim. We stayed up way past midnight, and I didn’t hear or see a thing. I thought my friend was actually going crazy.

I started getting an uneasy feeling from my friend, so I began to avoid him. I think he felt it too and he started avoiding me as well. A little over a week had passed since the sleepover, and we had not phoned or hung out. Then one night, Tim called me unexpectedly, and I answered the phone with a knot in my stomach. The knot came undone as I heard my friend freaking out and begging to stay at my place tonight. I told him my parents wouldn’t accept it, it was late and they wouldn’t let me out to meet up. But Tim was pleading—he told me they were coming tonight to take him away. His fear and sobs made me feel his loneliness and fear.

I told him to hold on, and I begged my parents to allow him over. I can’t remember what story I made up, but they gave us permission and allowed me to go get him. I ran back to the phone, and told him that I would be meeting him at our spot soon. We hung up and I biked off. When I turned on the main road, I turned on my walkie-talkie to speak to him. There was no reply. I waited a bit longer, and kept trying to reach Tim. Suddenly, Tim finally replied, but a static interference took over. I couldn’t hear what Tim was saying, but he sounded distressed. I tried to talk back, but the static was too much.

I sped up to get to our meeting spot as soon as I could. I remember it being one of the eeriest moments of my life. Biking at night, my friend panicking over static filled walkie-talkie and surrounded by corn crops.

I finally made it to the meeting spot and Tim was nowhere to be found. I usually could see him coming from a distance, but the darkness made that difficult. I waited as he should be there any time. I figured I might have pedaled too fast and he should be here any minute. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I knew that Tim should have been here by now. I decided to continue biking in his direction. I was going so fast since I had a bad feeling about this. I was continuously talking in the walkie-talkie with the static getting louder and louder. I couldn’t see Tim anywhere. Then, the static dissipated from the walkie-talkie and it returned back to normal.

I stopped pedaling, and talked into the walkie-talkie, calling for my friend. All I heard was an echo of what I said a couple of yards ahead of me, from Tim’s walkie-talkie. I jumped off my bike and ran to the noise. Tim’s bike, walkie-talkie, and backpack lay abandoned on the roadside. There was no Tim.

I shouted for Tim and all I could see was road and corn fields. The only reply I got was the rustling of the corn. Looking back and forth, I had a feeling Tim ran into the fields. So, I started to head into where he might have jumped off into the field. But at that moment, a dark sensation came over me—it was pure fear. I felt petrified and heard my heart pounding loudly into my ears. I panicked and ran back to my bike and went home as fast as I could.

I ran in my house and told my parents. My mom immediately got on the phone with his parents, and called the police once they confirmed Tim wasn’t at home. My dad and I took the car and drove to Tim’s abandoned bike. When we got there, all the stuff was still there, but no Tim. Tim’s dad and siblings showed up shortly afterward. And then the police. Doing a quick search, there was no sight of Tim. The next morning, the town organized an extensive search, but there was no sign of Tim. After weeks of searching, we couldn’t find Tim. He disappeared. It eventually became a cold case.

As I got older, I kept thinking of my friend Tim and the fear he felt of someone or something after him. I eventually moved away from my hometown, but I occasionally searched for any news or updates about Tim’s missing case. But there hasn’t been an update since the night he disappeared.

It still keeps me up at night sometimes; what was Tim seeing and hearing, who was after him, and where did he go. The worst is wondering what I could have done better to help and protect my friend.