It's now time for just the terror with Nick Guerra. the

way

back when I was back when I was six or seven old, I used to sleep over at my

grandparents house a lot, but this one particular time in January brings back some

scary memories. We were about to head over to my grandparents. I had forgotten something in the house, so my dad and I ran into our house while my mom and little brother waited in the car.

He told me to go get what I was looking for while he was on a phone call with a customer.

I only needed one thing to take with me and that was my favorite stuffed animal that I had since I was maybe one.

I ran to my dad to tell him that I had gotten what I needed, but he was still on the phone.

I was bored waiting for him, and I looked out the kitchen window into our backyard and just waved.

Why?

I don't know. Kids do the weirdest things. However, the creepy part sets in when I see a hand with a pair of black gloves wave back from behind a tree.

My natural instinct is to get my dad, but he just told me stop kidding around.

As luck would have it, we forgot to arm the alarm system, and we went out for the rest of the night.

Then they dropped me off at my grandparents for the weekend.

Maybe 20 minutes goes by and we get a phone call from my parents saying

that our house got broken into.

Now looking back, I probably waved at the person who broke into our house.

Count the people.

In 1979, my dad was 16 years old.

He grew up in southern Arkansas near Spavinaw Creek, deep in the country.

He knew that land better than he knew anything.

But my grandmother was still hesitant when he asked to go camping at the creek for the weekend with his friends from the other farms around the area.

...