H. of the We’re Not Meant to Know podcast

Propped up, looking at me.

Big white face.

I recognized him right away.

I even remembered his name.

And I... I can't move.

It's like I'm tripping on something.

And he's starting to open his mouth real slow, like he's about to say something to me.

But when his mouth opens all the way, it just hangs there and stops.

I've had nothing to drink, no drugs.

I can even see that the door behind him is still open from when the guy had run for it.

I just put the car in a drive and I floored it.

And when I look back at him, he wasn't there anymore.

All I can think of was that it was the punch that did something to my mind, coming off such a traumatic thing with the guy, because he hit me hard.

That was it.

My scariest moments on earth, one, two, one right after another, but it's the Joby thing I can visualize the most, more than even the guy I thought might try to kill me.

So now the question is,

Where'd the little freak go to?

If they really dug him up, authentically, no lie, there was no indication of where they took him after that.

I don't want to think of him sitting up in some attic.

Not because I feel bad for him.