I'm 13 years old and I live about 30 miles from Kansas City, Kansas.

My family's always hunted, My dad has fished the m

uh who can't pronounce this Marius des kangus River all his life.

I'm just not even going to try that one.

He started taking me with him when I was about five.

Dad and I had been on a roll, slamming monster channel cats all summer.

Our goal was to catch big flatheads since I've never caught one before. I was really determined to do that

when we got to the river two days ago. It was 7 p.m. and about 30 minutes until dusk when we got there.

We checked out a few other places before we settled on my grandfather's favorite spot.

It didn't take long to unload the truck and get set up.

Then 10 minutes later, we were already getting big bites,

so we knew it was going to be a good night.

Everything was going great.

We were having a lot of fun. Dad brought everything we needed to roast hot dogs on the

fire. So I was busy cooking myself a couple while I kept an eye on the poles.

I love the feeling of being out there. About the time we the feeling changed. Everything got eerie all of a sudden. It was still and quiet.

Behind us we started hearing brush popping. No sooner did we zero in on that, then something was thrown at us out of the darkness and landed right

next to us. And then something else was thrown and landed in the water.

Well, I kept hearing stomping right behind me. I turned the spotlight on

it several times but I never saw anything. I was already feeling pretty unnerved when I looked over at my dad.

I could tell right away that he wasn't feeling right about any of this either.

That made it all worse for me.

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