Danger on the Monon Trail?
ThinkKit's December 3rd Prompt
It was 11:14pm on a Wednesday evening. I was walking down the Monon Trail back to my apartment after going to Trivia Night at Brother's Bar and Grill with several friends from the Reddit Group. I was feeling slightly disappointed because our 2 point lead at halftime had quickly been overcome when questions about baseball, hockey, and basketball came up during the second half of the competition, and we ended up in 5th place.
Trudging along, I zipped up my Rose-Hulman Night Hosting hoodie as I fingered the pocket knife that I carried with me. Though the blade was only an inch long, it provided comfort, helping me think that I'd be able to defend myself against anything that I came up against. I was probably wrong.
The cars driving along Westfield broke up the eerie silence of the evening, reminding me how close people were to where I was walking. The sound slowly quieted as I reached the segment of the trail that was separated from Westfield by The Reserve and Island Woods. I picked up my pace, starting to feel a bit nervous about making the walk after dark.
I froze in place when I heard rustling coming from the side of the trail. After a few seconds, I heard the noise again, confirming my fear that there was definitely something in the woods. I was just about to take off running when I heard a voice call, "Can you help me? I've lost my dog."
Now, if this were a horror movie, I'd be the first person yelling at the screen, telling the teen starlet not to fell prey to the serial killer with a wickedly sharp knife. In real life, I sympathized with whomever it was scrambling around, searching for their lost pet. So, I did what any dog-lover would do and hopped the fence, hoping to help someone else out and not be brutally murdered.
Fifteen minutes later, the dog had been found and the grateful owner had given me a six-pack of Magic Hat Number 9. I was feeling much more optimistic about humanity, the Monon Trail, and even myself. This strange encounter had reaffirmed my belief that many of us are all struggling along together, and that I should do whatever I could to help anyone that ever asked me for help. That was the night that I recommitted to leaving this world better than I found it. And, I've stuck to that commitment.
This post was in response to ThinkKit's December 3rd prompt: share the strangest experience of your year.
Playing for Meeps since 1990.
