16 and skating with friends. Back then it was easier to mess around and find ourselves out at 2 or 3 am. One night we had been drinking and I told everyone of a supposed haunted house I heard stories about. Had just found out it was really close by my house, and we felt brave so we were down. We skate less than a mile From my house, to this small area that’s like mainly owned by local farmers, whose land was bought and made into the neighborhoods. The house is ONLY accessible if you go though the alley behind the houses. There wasn’t any other way of getting to it. We start walking down the alley, it’s late, we’re teeny as hell and buzzing off taaka. My friend mentions something about how it’s a bad idea to be high or inebriated in haunted areas, cuz you’re more vulnerable, or something like that. There aren’t streetlights, it’s pitch black dark and we can’t see anything. Us, teenage skater boys, held hands and walked down this quiet alley hearing the lightest flutter above us. We got to the fence at the very end of the alley, which has a small abandoned sign. We can only see in the smallest glow of our phones. Anyway, we’re trying to muster up the courage to jump the fence, when we hear a twig snap. Just one, then after a long soundless pause, a second. Then it stopped. In the moment, I thought, fuckin serial killer or bobcat this might be, they know we heard it. Then, a flutter. Right on the neck high fence we’re standing next to, a barn owl is perched. Locally, superstitious Hispanics believe in lechuzas—witches, or demons appearing as white owls with large wingspans. We freaked the fuck out. Ran off so hard, didn’t say anything. We even tried passing it off like, yeah nope, that owl in front of our faces wasn’t the reason I hauled ass for my life.
Obviously, was a barn owl. Obviously, nothing paranormal. But a fun night with friends, our boards, no work or school the night after, every reason to do everything but also scared off by an owl. Cool times :-)