In August 2002, my dad took me out camping for the first time when I was 11. He chose a smaller campground called "Waterways" along the Rideau River. It was a bit off the beaten path, which my father liked and my mother resented because it didn't have a landline telephone, supposedly.
Regardless, we packed up and my father and I were on our way. The campsite itself was nice; it was grassy and sheltered from the other campsites with a thick line of fir trees, which made it seem as though no one else was around. That's how it stayed for the rest of the weekend because nobody camped anywhere near our site for one reason or another.
Setting up the tents was done by flashlight due to arriving late. I was scared of the dark so I ended up being not much help. It was dark by the time we had finished setting up the tent, it must have been around nine o'clock. Dad gave me the reigns and let me pump up the mattresses, but I quickly got tired. Instead, I asked if I could go outside and check on the fire that we set aflame over an hour ago.
Before I even heard his approval I was unzipping the door. I took two steps outside, gazed at the fire and let my sight trail up into the tree line just a little way. That was when I saw it - a hooded figure.
It was small, must have been only a meter and a half tall, and about five meters away. It was in the tree line so I'd guess about two meters off the ground. The hooded figure wore a long cloak, with wide sleeves that met in the middle of his chest as if he were pressing his knuckles together out in front of him. The shadow of the hood showed no facial features beneath. Its entire body was transparent. I stood in utter shock for several seconds. Neither of us moved.
Then I screamed and nearly tore the tent open, crying for my father to go outside. I've never told the full story like this, and I'd like some help in identifying just what visited my campsite.