You see the yeti in all its fury, its blazing red eyes seemingly piercing through your body. Your eyes widen in shock and disbelief while your mind attempts, but fails, to rationalize the situation. You may have stood there for another ten minutes, were it not for the fact that the yeti suddenly let out an earsplitting howl and began furiously pursuing you, at which point all sense returns to you, and you turn around and flee for your life. You narrowly escape by stumbling into a dense thicket of trees and ducking behind a large bush, constantly waiting for a large, hairy arm to appear and grab you; however, the arm does not come, and you hear the yeti stumbling off into the distance.
In the days following this fateful occurrence, you can think of nothing else, and consequently, find solace in telling your closest family and friends what had happened. They are highly skeptical, of course, but out of love for you they do not laugh or attempt to belittle your experience as merely you "imagining things." And thus, you slowly learn to put this experience behind you, and yet, in the back of your mind, you will forever be haunted by not only the close encounter with the yeti, but more importantly, that everything you had been told in your life up until that day turned out to be a lie.
So yea, I'm bored. I gave it a shot I guess?
