R/Nosleep (Get Spooked)

I Forgot My Manners And I'm Terrified Of The Consequences

By: u/JohannesTEvans

Manners are very important.

That's my opinion, that's my feeling on the matter – I like to think I'd feel that way even if I didn't come where I come from, where having good manners is sometimes the difference between life or...

Or an unpleasant alternative.

I don't think I should really say where I come from: if you know the area, I have no doubt you'll recognise it from context clues, and if you don't, that's for the best. It's not that I live in an unpleasant place – on the contrary, as cold and damp as English weather can be from time to time, particularly up here, I live in a beautiful area, and I've always felt very blessed.

Huge swathes of woodland are protected in trust near to where I live, and the village I'm from is a little ways up the mountain, a plateau cut out with paths that lead down through the woodland or further up and along, to join the public thoroughfares, the national walks.

You have to walk sideways and take a few strange turns to make it down to us. It's very easy for us to make our way out but not so easy for outsiders to make their way in – I would like to tell you it's for their protection, or suchlike, but really it's that outsiders have no manners, and resent the consequences that come of that.

I hope you don't think I have a low opinion of you, presuming you're an outsider, presuming you've never been here – I wouldn't like to make assumptions. Unfortunately, it's always the case that one bad apple spoils the fate of the battle, and I admit, I'm not myself of late.

I thought writing all this out would help.

It starts with what you'd expect, good manners.

Say please when asking for something, say thank you when it is received. Greet those you meet politely and respectfully. Do not step over boundaries or into spaces where you are not invited. Never take the last piece from a plate, or the last fruit from a bush. Don't whistle or make a racket when people are trying to sleep.

Help others. Be kind.

Be thoughtful.

Manners are only local customs, you know – there's nothing universal in them, in any of them, whether they're ours or yours. What's important is what the manners communicate – your respect for other people, and for your surroundings.

And here, we have the People.

We call them the People – there are other names for them, but they're too direct, and the People are quite protective of their names and how they're addressed or spoken of. That's about respect, too, not bandying about their proper names without cause, even amongst ourselves, even to outsiders – it would be like gossip, or blasphemy, or something like a mix of both.

The People aren't sacred, you understand – they're not gods, and they're not monsters. They aren't harmful at all, so long as you treat them with respect. I used to be so frightened of them, when I was a child, and I used to cry when they passed us on the woodland paths and hide my face against my mother's waist.

This was rude, but they never made anything of it, even though they would be well within their rights to.

I'm rambling: I'm sorry, it's complicated, and as I said, I'm not myself.

The People are very tall, seven feet at the shoulder, and they walk on two spindly legs with pointed feet, balancing on them – I think they might be hoof-shaped, but they don't make a sound when they move. They have more joints in their long limbs than we do, and far less torso to speak of: their bodies are thickly, densely furred, or at least, their three long fingers on each hand are, and their legs, too. They wear cloaks woven of tree leaves and wildflowers, or pieces of fir in winter, that hide most of their bodies and the backs of their heads, and masks, too.