I watched a shadowy figure in my front yard on the night of July 27th, 2018

The most striking thing about the figure is how still it was. I could see the way branches of a tree swayed gently in the wind, the billowing fibers of a cottonwood tree drifting towards it, the moon climbing across the sky. That immobability now seems to serve as some sort of evidence, evidence that I've struggled to explain to myself and others. <br><br>It was around 2am. I couldn't sleep, so I opened my window to let cooler air inside, and sat at my desk looking out through the open window, staring blankly across the street I'd lived on for the past twenty years. That's when I saw it. <br><br>The figure stood in the center of the lawn, about 20 feet from the street. It was tall and humanoid, but it was quite a distance away from me, and the only light I could see it by was a street lamp in front of my house, and the faint moonlight that was starting to show in the horizon. It didn't seem to be wearing any clothes, and its skin was a deep black color. I could see its shadowy arms hanging down to its thighs, too long to be human. <br><br>I tried to scream, but I couldn't. My voice caught in my throat and all that came out was a rusty gasp. The figure didn't move. <br><br>I didn't know what to do. I thought about going to wake my parents up, but I didn't want to leave the window, in case it moved and I couldn't see it. It was so perfectly still. I looked over at the trees, but the wind wasn't blowing hard enough to cause any movement. I tried to compare the movement of the branches with the figure, and I realized that even the fibers from the cottonwood tree weren't reaching it. <br><br>It was still and unresponsive, but something about it felt malevolent, like it was plotting something. It was very frightening, and I tried to scream again, and this time I was able to. <br><br>If it was real, it didn't respond to my scream. It continued to stare across the street. I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath, opened them, and it was still there. I thought about my parents' bedroom and started to get up from my chair, but now the figure was moving. <br><br>I started to shake. It was walking towards me very slowly, bisecting my front lawn. It had a strange shuffle to its walk, like a dog with three legs. I pushed my chair back and started to run to my parents' room, but I couldn't take my eyes off of it. It kept moving towards me, and I felt a weight in my legs that kept me from taking a single step. I stayed frozen in place, watching as it moved across my front yard. <br><br>The house grew darker. I started to hear a strange sound, like the hiss you hear when you turn on a television. The figure entered my field of vision, and I could see its dark outline against the lighter interior of my room. It moved in front of my desk, between me and the window, and I could hear the sound growing louder. <br><br>I felt a warmth at my sides and looked down to see my arms dissolving into light. The figure moved closer, its presence filling my entire field of vision. I tried to struggle, to push against it, but it was too late. It was inside me, and I was gone. <br><br>The next thing I knew, I was back. I was sitting at my desk, hunched over in a fetal position, and my head was pounding. I looked out the window, and the figure was still there. It hadn't moved. <br><br>My head hurt so badly that I started to cry. I had to look away from the figure. I sat in my chair and cried for hours, until the sun started to rise. <br><br>It's been a few days since that night, and the figure is still out in my front yard. It hasn't moved at all. The only evidence I have that anything happened is the pounding headache that still hasn't gone away.