Whistler

As the holidays roll by and that certain time of cheer rolls in, everyone gets into the spirit. Whether its singing, dancing, or humming; eventually their mood becomes catchy.

​This one such story comes from my aunt, who I will refer to as C for anonymity.

My aunt has a grandson and has been out shopping for him like crazy lately. He's a cute kindergartner and we do enjoy spoiling him. 

Since last Friday, she has been all over the county looking at things for him. On the 3rd day, was when she noticed the oddity. C was standing in line to check out when first noticed the whistling. It came in long notes of different pitches just barely above the sound of the crowd.

She strained her ears to listen to it. The feeling of warmth of the season drained from her like someone poured ice water over her. She pulled her coat closer and nonchalantly looked around for the source. 

She saw some hunched over guy in a hoodie standing next to a display of sodas facing her direction. She couldn't see his face as the hood was pulled up. He had a loaf of baked bread in his hands. The whistling stopped like he knew she had seen him. C said she watched the guy lift the bread up to his mouth and take a bite. When he pulled the bread away from his hood, the end was left jagged like a shark bit it. 

She moved up and threw her items on the counter and refused to look back at him. She could hear the whistling again and tried to ignore it. The cashier was merrily talking on to herself, oblivious of C's near panic.

C ran from the store with her stuff held close to her chest. Panic started to swell up in her. She didn't stop freaking out until she was at the red light and on her way home. She didn't take the direct route to her house just in case he had been waiting for her to leave.

C made it the rest of the day without hearing the whistling. She vowed to do online shopping the next day.

On the 5th day, she decided to venture out again. This time she went to a different place on the other side of town.

She was happily enjoying herself when she realized the whistling had started. This time it sounded closer than the first. Every hair on her body stood on end. She ditched her items and left the store as quickly as she could without running. 

C barely remembered climbing into her car and slamming the door. She took deep breaths to calm herself before inserting the key. The whistling started back up again.

She looked around and saw no one. She looked in her empty back seat and started to hyperventilate. She was alone in the car and yet she could hear it. Her blood stopped flowing when she realized the whistling was coming from her car speakers.

C cranked up the car and peeled out of the parking lot. She turned on her radio and cranked it as loud as she could. On the way home, she called my mom.

On the 6th day, I arrived earlier at Mom's to find her and C in a quiet living room. I could tell there was something wrong. C would jump every time the magnolia tree would rub against the siding.

I was told to sit down.

So now you know as much as I do.