Someone Memorized the Family Knock

My friend had a cabin near a lake, and one evening she, her cousin, and I went fishing at a secluded beach. To reach it, we walked through a small section of woods and climbed a steep hill. We stayed until it was dark, then packed our gear and started back.

As we crossed the trail, my friend’s cousin suddenly stopped and stared into the trees. He grabbed both of us by the arms and made us look. At first I could not see anything, but then my eyes adjusted and I saw a large figure stumbling slowly toward us.

We panicked and scrambled up the hill. When we looked back, the figure was moving faster and coming after us. It got close before we reached the top. We ran across the road to the cabin, threw our gear on the porch, and rushed to the front door.

The door was locked. The family used a complicated knock to identify relatives and trusted friends, so my friend and her cousin repeated it loudly. We were let inside and told the adults what had happened. They thought the person might have been harmless, but we still felt safer with the cabin locked and the adults nearby.

My friend and I slept in the walkout lower level. After we had begun calming down, we heard the family knock. I assumed it was her cousin trying to come through the stairway door and called for him to come in. There was no answer. The knock came again, and we realized it was coming from the window.

We ran upstairs and told everyone. Her cousin went down to listen and confirmed that it was the same complicated knock. While several family members gathered flashlights to investigate, the knock sounded again at the front door. Everyone huddled together, and her uncle called the police to report that someone was trying to enter the cabin.

The knocking continued for a short while and then stopped. Officers arrived and searched around the property, but they found no one. We described the figure on the trail and the repeated knocking. The officers suggested that the person may have been trying to frighten us.

What still disturbs me is that the person had somehow memorized the family’s private knock. Whoever had been outside had watched us reach the cabin, learned the pattern, and then used it at the lower window and the front door. We slept together on the floor that night. I have never again assumed that a familiar knock means the person outside is safe.