When I was eight years old,I loved to take late-night walks with my mom and our dog.The streets were pretty quiet most of the time,because our neighborhood being located on the suburban fringes of lansing,Michigan and borading a gloomy swamp.On one particular evening at around 11:00pm my mom and i were walking along the edge of thr swamp,an eerie noise echoed through the air,whisting.{eerie whisteing} at first,i thought it was a bird,but something about it made it sound distinctly human-like.But who could be lurking in the dark depths of the swamp alone at this time of night?.The whislte's pitch continued to rise and fall,and as it did my mom grew visibly concerned.She grabbed my hand.And we returned home immediately without ever explaining why.And at eight years old,i didn't really think about asking my mom on what happened.Two years passed,and with incident lost to back of my mind,i decided to take my dog again one night,only this time i was by myself.I finished the walk without much trouble,but just as i passed one particular spot at the swamp's edge,i heard it again.The whistle.[eerie whistling]as soon as it reached my ears,a chill traveled down my spine.I immediately returned home and made sure never to pass that spot in the dark again.The whistle.For more than a decade,i actully succeeded in avoiding the whislter's clutches until one foggy night when i was twenty four years old.Having recently moved from Michigan to South Dakota,my girlfriend and i decided to spend independence day camping along the bank of the Missouri river,where we could relax and watch the fireworks.For the festivities,the police had cleared the river of any boats,since i became a videographer,i decided to seize the opportunity and film the calm,empty waters for a bit.Only it appeared not all the boats had obeyed the no-boating order.somewhere on the shadowy lake,i heared the unmistakeable sound of a paddle methodically dippping in and out the water.I sqinted into the growing darkness and could make out a figure streeing a canoe about sixty five feet offshore.Brushing it off,i continued to film the lake,until suddenly i heard something that left me frozen,riddled with goosebumps.A slow whislting.[ererir whislting].The exact same whistle i had heard all those years ago.Unable to make out the whistler's face in the dark'i tried to be rational about the whole thing.It couldn't possibly be the same whislter,right?.Well,what happened next only covincwed me more.As the whislter lined up with me on the lake,he stopped paddling to face me,and let out his signature sound once more.[eerie whistling].Moments passed,and the whislter didn't move a muscle.Only when i stood up and shouted at him asking who he was he turned and paddled out of sight.It was to dark for me to capture much of the actual person in the canoe,but i did manage to film their whistle before he entiely disappered.Take listen.[eerie whistling].[fireworkd boming].[eerie whistling].

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