Collin Bishop-Karney
speaker
139 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Nov 2024
last heard Nov 2024
Collin Bishop-Karney’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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Appearances
The horse behind me got scared from that and bucked a bit as well. almost bringing his front hooves right down on me. I was lucky enough to roll to the side, right into a thorn bush. The rancher came up, calmed the horses down, and picked me up out of the thorn bush. I saw the red trickling down my arms, and dripping off my cheek.
I had been cut up pretty badly, but I'd rather have taken those cuts than died by horse trampling. It hurt so much after my adrenaline wore off, and I had the gauze taped on tightly. Thankfully, I slept pretty soundly that night. The fourth event, and quite possibly the scariest thing I had ever experienced, was the day I almost drowned in the lake.
During our second-to-last day at Camp Woodruff, I decided to spend my free time at the lake with some friends from my troop. But something felt different that day, almost as if I had to be at the lake. It felt like something was calling me to swim. I felt compelled to do so, and I didn't understand why at the time.
After starting to swim for a few minutes, I heard my friend tell me he dared me to try and touch the bottom of the lake. I didn't know any better, and I didn't realize how deep lakes actually were. I took a deep breath and started to swim down. After seven seconds, I didn't feel the bottom, and I knew I had to swim back up. I felt disoriented for a second, unsure if I was swimming up or sideways.
But it was too late now. I just had to go for it. I felt that I had finally reached the surface, and my lungs were burning for a breath of fresh air. But as I went to take a breath, The only thing that filled my mouth and partially my throat was the disgusting taste of lake water. I thought to myself, this is it. My life literally flashed before my eyes.
As I thrashed and kicked, trying desperately to reach the surface, a miracle happened. My hand breached the water's surface, and a lifeguard on the floating platform in the lake grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the water. I coughed up the little water I swallowed and lay on that platform gasping for air for a good long while. He asked me if I was okay and what had happened.
I began to say my friend had dared me to swim to the bottom of the lake when my friend, whose voice I heard, said, I never dared you to do that. I've been on this platform the whole time talking with Garrett. At that moment, I knew everything had come full circle to this moment.
The fall, the cold and nightmares, the whispering late at night from the woods, the snake coming down the river at just the right time, and now hearing voices after feeling pulled to the lake. I knew something was in these woods, and it wanted me dead. I stayed away from the water after that, and I made sure I was always with an adult or older scout.
On the seventh day, when we loaded our things onto our bus, I had never felt so relieved to be going home. After all that had happened to me, my mind might have been playing tricks on me, but while we were driving, I could swear I had seen that same mist-cloaked figure watching our bus drive away and back onto the highway, staring at me as if disappointed, angry, or hateful.
i looked straight ahead and didn't look back out the window until i had woken up and we were in atlanta passing through you may not believe my story but i don't need you to camp woodruff is a real place and you can easily find it online and see pictures if you want to look it up
I'm sharing this story now because, as an adult, I still refuse to go into the woods, and I just want to warn you that there are malevolent things that happen in the trees, far from the view of cameras. So if you do decide to go camping, just be safe and watch your back.
The excitement of returning to Shiprock filled me as the car crested the last hill, revealing the familiar landscape that had always been a part of my childhood memories. The desert stretched endlessly, bathed in the deep golden light of the setting sun, and there, nestled against the dusty horizon, lay my grandparents' house.
It had been years since I last visited the reservation, and I felt a mix of nostalgia and curiosity as we pulled up the long dirt driveway. My mother smiled, but her eyes seemed to hold something deeper, something unspoken. I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the warmth of the reunion ahead. The evening was everything I'd hoped for at first.
Laughter, stories, and the comforting aroma of fry bread wafting through the old trailer. My grandparents greeted me with open arms, and my aunts and uncles arrived soon after, filling the small living room with the sounds of family. We shared stories from the past, tales of old mischief and local news.
The night was moving smoothly, but I couldn't shake a sense of unease that lurked beneath the surface, an energy that seemed almost tangible. And then, perhaps out of ignorance, I asked the question that changed everything. Hey, are skinwalkers real? I blurted out between bites of fry bread, a casual curiosity slipping out without a second thought. The room fell instantly silent.
It was as if I had opened a door no one wanted to look through. My grandmother's face seemed to age in that moment, her eyes growing dark, and she shook her head slowly. Her hands trembled as she placed her cup down on the table, her gaze meeting mine with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
you shouldn't speak of such things she said her voice almost a whisper the warning clear the mood in the trailer changed instantly the warmth vanishing as if someone had extinguished a fire my grandfather gave me a look a mix of disappointment and fear before standing up and quietly retreating to his room my aunts and uncles followed suit murmuring good-nights their faces tense my mother scolded me softly
telling me that there are things better left unsaid. I nodded, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in my stomach. The once lively trailer now seemed empty, and an unsettling quiet fell over the house. I tried to brush it off as just nerves, just the stories getting to me. But that night, lying on the couch, I couldn't sleep. The trailer felt too quiet, the air too thick,
the desert wind whispered outside its low moan seeping through the thin walls shadows stretched long and deep across the floor flickering in the dim glow of the hallway nightlight i couldn't shake the feeling that something was out there just beyond the thin curtains in the deep empty night of the desert
i turned over trying to force myself to sleep but every creak every rustle seemed amplified my heart thudding in response i squeezed my eyes shut but my mind raced the stories my mother used to tell me came flooding back Stories of creatures that wore the skins of animals, that lurked at the edges of the light, waiting for the curious and the careless.
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