I grew up in a broken family. A home without a father, my mother, a fragile woman with a heart of glass. She loved me enough, but could never hide the pitiful look she had when she looked at me. A reminder of all the mistakes she had ever made in her lifetime. Even though she tried, the way she looked at me told me all I needed to know.
Despite this, I loved her as much as a child could love the person who raised them. My mother had never married, and my father was nothing more than a name. I didn’t spend much time with my mom because she was always busy trying to put food on the table. Our conversations were awkward at best, as if she were a stranger trying to relate to someone else’s child.
Thankfully, my brother and I were close, which was what kept me going; Nate was my best friend, even if we had had different fathers. He was younger, so naturally I became his caretaker, but I was just as much a child as he was.
Most of our time was spent alone in the trailer. The rules were simple: we could eat anything in the fridge that wasn’t Mom’s, and the doors remained locked for anyone who wasn’t Mom. Of course, since she was rarely around, we broke these rules regularly.
For some context, my mom worked at a roadside diner. One of those diners in the middle of nowhere. The one-off pit stop for the few drifters passing through, or anyone unfortunate enough to get lost. This one in particular was in a flat forested area. Our trailer basically settled only a few miles away from the diner; not far, but far enough that my mom wouldn’t know about us wandering out into the woods.
Our daily routine consisted of waiting for our mom to leave before going out into the forest to play for hours. Looking back on it, I never thought about how dangerous it was. I guess for two kids who don’t know any better, boredom is a fate worse than death.
Of course, nothing ever happened as long as we cleaned up and made it back to the trailer in time. As long as we didn’t get caught, we’d keep going until something happened, and inevitably, I’d learn the hard way what it meant to tempt fate.
That day began like any other. My mom had recently been moved to night shifts, trapping Nate and I inside. So of course, when night came, we were both wide awake. We sat on the floor drawing on paper, under the dim fluorescent kitchen light.
My mom got ready for her shift, grabbing her keys, bag, and work uniform. “Make sure to turn off the lights before bed. Bye, love you guys.” She smiles at us halfheartedly.
We waved to her, without even giving an audible response, which at this point was normal for us. The car sputters up, and we listen as the sound of tires on gravel gets further away. Nate and I looked at each other. “Are you tired?” I ask.
“Not really,” Nate replied softly. Nate was always more timid than I was; his voice was quiet, even with our mom gone.
It was always a hassle to get him out of the trailer, even when it wasn’t dark, but that wouldn’t stop me from asking, “You wanna go outside?”
Nate looks up at the windows, “but it’s dark.”
“Come on, we’ve been inside all day.” I was always mildly annoyed that I had to convince him every time. We had never been out at night before, which made him uneasy.
“Hmmm…” Nate remained hesitant. I knew I wasn’t scared, but for some reason, seeing him nervous never felt right to me. It made me feel like I should be scared, even if I didn’t know why.
“What? So you’re just gonna lie down until you fall asleep? We haven’t been outside in like three days!” It felt wrong trying to convince him to go out, but somehow his fear only made me bolder. Besides, what kind of older brother would I be if I never taught him to face his fears? At least that’s what I told myself.
We put on our worn jackets and boots, and stepped into the cold crisp night air. The moonlight was barely visible through the towering pine trees, light dipping in and out as clouds passed over. I gave Nate the lantern and took the flashlight. This night felt darker than most, whether because the batteries in our lights were running out, or that they just couldn’t cut through the dark of night.
I wasn’t afraid of the dark, and stepping out of the cramped trailer was like a rush of energy. After hours stuck inside, it was as if my day had just started. I looked at Nate, whose face was illuminated by the lantern.
“Let’s go to the rock.” I could tell he was still nervous as I asked the question, but he looked more excited now. He nodded in agreement.
The rock was a place we’d been a hundred times. It was a big mound of stones formed in a clearing of trees. During the day, when it was well-lit, we would pick up sticks and play war, or try to hunt bugs and animals. That’s why it was fun for us; every day was a journey. Even though we would watch cartoons or movies at home, the outdoors was where our fantasies became real.
We made our way toward the rock just from memory. It was usually a walk that took only a few minutes, and our internal clocks got pretty good at telling us when it was time to go back.
The walk this time felt unnaturally long, as I followed the path instinctively. “Are we lost?” Nate asked timidly from behind me.
“We’re almost there.” I lied, unsure if what I said was true. Stubborn as I was, I told myself even if we were lost, that the way back would be easy for me to retrace. After a few more minutes of wandering, we stumbled into an opening. My flashlight shone into the clearing of trees, and the light illuminated the giant boulder in the center. I looked back at Nate, “told you.”
We made our way to the center. Both our backpacks were full of random objects to aid our journeys. Snacks, papers, action figures, the usual. We sat beside the giant boulder that protruded from the earth. The lantern between us. Nate gave me a look, “Now what?”
I paused for a moment. I hadn’t thought this far; our usual activities were impossible in the dark of night. We rummaged through our backpacks looking for any form of entertainment.
My hand passed through the papers, plastic figurines, clips, marbles, strings, and snacks. I reached toward the bottom, remembering something I had “borrowed” from mom. Then I felt it, a cold metallic rectangle that fit in my small hand.
I pulled it out, a shiny and slightly scuffed-up lighter. The lantern’s lights reflected off the metal as I held it to my eyes. “Let’s make a fire.” It was the only idea I had.
Nate looks at me, “How do we do that?”
“With this!” I flipped the lighter open, trying to get it to light.
“What is it?” Nate looks at me, confused. The flint sparks, and a small flame dances up from the small silver box. “Can I try?!” Nate immediately takes interest.
I pull away abruptly, “No way, you’re gonna burn yourself. But, you can help me get some sticks so we can start a fire.” My way of getting him to do what I tell him.
I closed the lighter and placed it into my jacket pocket. We both got up and began gathering sticks, bringing them near the spot where we were sitting. Once we had enough, I brought the flame to the heap of sticks, but had no luck in getting it to catch. I scrunched my face in frustration, unwilling to give up. My hand dove into my backpack once more, retrieving some of the loose paper. I began balling them up and placed them in the stick pile. This time, bringing the flame to the paper, the sticks kindled into a small fire.
I sat back satisfied. It was the first time we had started a fire, and I imagined that we were like survivors in the wilderness. We sat admiring our work while warming ourselves. The natural light was perfect for eating snacks and playing with our toys.
I’m not sure how loud we were, but I know we weren’t trying to be quiet. At some point, I noticed how silent it became; not even the sound of crackling fire could be heard in the silent pauses of our conversations. The sounds of nature had faded; the faint noise of crickets, bustling trees, or owls had subtly died into an eerie and still silence.
It was like all sounds of life had fled from our presence, leaving our voices exposed and no longer hidden. Our entertainment died with the bustle of the forest, and eventually, we got bored. Nate looked at me, “Should we head back home now?”
I knew we still had time before Mom would come back, and sleep was the least of my priorities. “Let’s play a game of hide and seek, then we can go back.” I offer him a deal, knowing he’s already past ready to leave.
He pushes back, “It’s too dark for hide and seek.”
I chuckle, “That’s exactly why it’ll be more fun!” He remains steadfast in wanting to go back. I looked at him, “Fine, then you can go back first,” I said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to find his way back without me.
Arms crossed, he reluctantly concedes, “Whatever, but I hide first.” At least if he was hiding, he could always come find me if he got spooked. “Okay, you have 20 seconds.” He nods.
I close my eyes and start counting, “1,2,3,4…” I hear his footsteps getting further and further. At this point, I couldn’t hear him anymore. “18,19,20! Ready or not, here I come!” I scout my immediate area, just in case he was too scared to run into the woods. I check my surroundings thoroughly before moving out.
It strikes me, looking out into the dense surrounding of trees, that if he got lost, then it would be impossible to find him. I walked toward where I last heard his footsteps. In the dark, my light never went beyond the wall of trunks surrounding me at all times.
I expected to find him at any moment, or that he would try to jump out and scare me, but with every passing second, my expectation became an uneasy hope. I didn’t know how far I walked until I lost sight of the clearing; a slight panic fell over me. In trying to look for my brother, I had completely lost track of where I was.
I spun around, trying to find anything to tell me where I had come from. It was strange how the sight of trees could cause me so much dread. I finally decided to call out, “Nate! NATE! Where are you!” I got nothing back, not even a gust of wind. I try my best to retrace my turns while standing in place, my heart racing because one wrong turn could send me spiraling deeper into the woods.
I began carefully replaying my series of movements several times in my head, the best that I could, before finally deciding the direction I would start walking. I moved slowly as if caution would be the difference between me finding my way back or not.
I walked at a steady pace, my head down. At one point, I looked up, but the tree covering was too dense to even see the sky, and I had no clues to know whether I was headed the right way. One step after another, I just had to convince myself that this was the way I had to go; if I didn’t, I might have just broken down right there.
It felt like ages, but eventually, through the layers of trees, I saw the faint glow of our fire, barely lit. And in the clearing, standing there was Nate. I breathed a sigh of relief, finally feeling like I could breathe. I kept my composure to keep Nate from freaking out.
I didn’t know what to say, but eventually my mind caught up with my mouth: “Why didn’t you answer me when I was calling?”
Nate looks at me, confused, “Calling? I was calling you?!”
I was annoyed by his response, “Well, I didn’t hear you, I swear your yelling is like normal people talking!” Not hearing my brother was expected, but what confused me was how he didn’t hear me. I had been yelling at the top of my lungs, “You seriously didn’t hear me?”
“No!” He is adamant, and I can tell he’s not lying.
I look at him, “Whatever you win anyway. How long were you waiting here?”
He thinks for a minute, “I don’t know, I got scared so I came back here, I don’t think it was that long.”
We both agreed that it was time to go back. The walk back was quiet; we were both tired, and maybe just a little on edge having almost got lost. Eventually, I heard the sounds of owls and crickets again, and moonlight shone through the treetops.
We made it to the trailer in time, trying to clean off any evidence that we were outside, and we nestled ourselves in bed, knowing that Mom would be home in a few hours.
I’m woken up by Nate tapping my shoulder. I wake up half-startled; he’s in his pajamas, sitting on the couch. A sleeping arrangement we talked our mom into, after we agreed we wanted our own space.
He looks at me, “I can’t sleep.”
“Then go into mom’s room.” I grumble.
“No, it’s not that. I can’t sleep, I had a bad dream.” Nothing I hadn’t heard before.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a dream.” I brush him off, wanting to go back to sleep. I can tell he wants to tell me about the dream, but he and I both know what I’ll say.
But then he says something strange, “Did you see anything in the woods?”
I furrow my brow, my eyes still closed, “No. Did you?”
He pauses, “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” I ask, wanting him to spit it out, already set on dismissing his overactive imagination.
“Well, I didn’t see anything, but I did see something.” Now I think he’s just being dumb, so I begin to tune him out.
But then he continues, “There was something in the forest, in the dark, while I was waiting. I couldn’t really see it, because it was in the shadows. At first, I thought it was you, but that couldn’t be right; you had a flashlight.”
I yawn, “It was probably a deer, or moose, or something.”
“I thought I saw eyes.” He seemed somewhat comforted by what I said. “But if it were a deer or a moose, wouldn’t I have heard its footsteps?” There was something about that last part that didn’t sit right with me.
I didn’t have an answer, but I was done entertaining him, “What are you, a detective? Just go to bed.” Eventually, he fell asleep, but I was the one left awake thinking.
I knew my brother was easily spooked, but hearing him describe what he said he saw in the forest, the way he struggled to describe it. It felt different this time, like he was really just trying to figure it out himself.
After that night, he didn’t bring it up again, but it was safe to say he didn’t want to go back outside. It had been several days since we had last gone out. Mom was about to go to work, but she was running around frantically looking for something.
“What are you looking for?” Nate asked.
“My friend Susie’s lighter, she let me borrow it, and I forgot to give it back to her,” her hurried search continued.
Nate looks at me, and I put my finger over my mouth so that he doesn’t give me away. “I don’t think we’ve seen it,” I told her.
“Crap… It’s alright, guess I’ll just get her another one.” She gives up her search and grabs her keys before heading out. Once she is out and we hear the car leave, I look at Nate.
I scurry to my backpack, scavenging through the items. I empty everything onto the floor, but the lighter is nowhere to be found. Nate does the same with no luck.
“Crap, we left the lighter at the rock,” I mutter to him.
“We? You’re the one who had it!” He corrects me.
“We have to get it back!” I try to convince him.
“Why? Mom said she would just get another one.” He answers back.
I scowled at him. Money was tight as is, even if it was just a lighter. Even if it was just this one thing, maybe I could help her for once… “Mom has it hard as is; we got to help her out.”
Nate remains unconvinced, “You can go get it yourself. Besides, you were the one who brought it in the first place.”
I rolled my eyes, “Fine, but you better not cry here by yourself when you get scared!”
I grab my backpack and get dressed. I reach the door and stop. Unlike all the other times, I hesitate, I look back at Nate, who is still sitting on the floor. I turn the knob and exit into the dark of night. There was a light rain beginning to fall that pattered on the roof of the trailer.
“Here goes nothing,” I tell myself, trying to ease my anxiety. It was different being alone. I didn’t have someone to be brave for, no one that would say my stupid thoughts out loud, so that I could argue back. It was just me.
This time, I walk toward the direction of the rock, slowly, carefully, timidly. Step by step, just like when I was lost. I creep through the mass of trees, being quieter than usual. I keep my light low, as if I’m trying to hide it from the dark. The rain is heavy now, my feet squishing down the layer of wet leaves beneath me.
Suddenly, I hear a piercing noise come from deeper in the woods; I freeze, dead in my tracks. A terrifying cry of some animal; a deer, a moose, maybe? I wasn’t sure. I remained motionless, but when I didn’t hear it again, I continued forward even more cautiously, trying to convince myself that I’d only worry about it if I ran into it.
Eventually, I made it to the clearing. And sure enough, everything was dead silent. What I once thought was calming became something more unsettling. It was as if anything that was not silent did not belong there; even the sound of the pouring rain felt lighter the longer I listened to it.
I shone my flashlight toward the rock. Making my way toward the place where we had lit the fire. There it was, right where we left it, sitting upright on the stone we sat on, almost as if waiting for me. My mission was complete. I picked up the lighter, holding it in my hand to be sure not to lose it again.
Then I swept the rest of the area with my flashlight, trying to see if I had left anything else; something I would soon regret doing. Not too far from where we sat, my flashlight shone upon something on the ground. A heap of brown fur drenched from the rain, hooves, all the markings of a deer, but it lay there motionless.
I couldn’t see its head or eyes from where I was standing, but I had no interest in getting any closer. I began to back away, keeping my eyes on the animal, which had no visible signs of injury, but it was still as a corpse, not even the rising and falling of breaths.
After I had taken a few steps, the deer began to move, its head lifting off the ground, before snapping straight toward me. I froze in fear, it stumbled onto its feet, and I staggered backwards. Then the same sound that I had heard on the way here.
I backed away further as its cries continued, then its calls stopped, it turned its head, darting across the tree-line, its ears flicking as it scanned for something. Instinctively, I shone the flashlight in the direction it was looking. Just for a moment, for only a glimpse, I saw it: two white dots, peeking out of the shadows just beyond the trees.
Suddenly, I was plunged into complete darkness; my flashlight had finally run out of battery. I hear the sound of the deer’s hooves hitting the wet ground, the sound getting further, but then another cry, then silence.
I slam the rear of my flashlight, drenched, desperate to get any flicker. A few flashes are all I get. I point it toward the direction of the deer. Like watching a horrific stop motion, I see the deer lying on the ground, its body spasming and contorting unnaturally. Slower, slower, then it stops.
Now, in complete darkness, a figure looms over the poor creature, closer now; there they were, the two white dots. Then I remembered what Nate said, why he had struggled to describe what he had seen, because that’s all they were, two white dots, surrounded by darkness. Like a shadow without a surface or a silhouette without an owner. A darkness that had shape, but didn’t cast its own shadow.
In the pitch black of night, those two white dots were fixated on me, or rather, just past me. Like whatever it was, it knew I was there, but looked straight through me as though I wasn’t. The shadow stood completely motionless, completely silent.
I didn’t want to look at it, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. I’m not sure if I screamed, but if I did, I couldn’t hear it. I wanted to run, but my legs had nowhere to go.
Every part of me knew this thing was wrong, but then there was a familiar voice that came from just past the tree line. It was Nate. “Josh! Did you find the lighter?!”
I was so relieved to hear his voice; tears started rolling down my cheeks, his lantern light came into view, the shadow vanished immediately before my eyes, and it was as if I regained control over my body.
I sat on the ground, mortified, fully soaked from the rain, two white eyes now burned into my mind. I stumbled to my feet and grabbed Nate by the arm, “We have to go now!” I make a mad dash for the woods, and we race toward the direction of our house. While at full sprint, I can’t help but get upset at Nate, “Why’d you come out here!”
Nate looks at me confused, “Because you were outside alone! I didn’t think you were crazy enough to actually do it!”
“What if you got lost or…” I pause. Out of the corner of my eyes, every few trees I see those white dots staring at us. “Listen, Nate, just stay inside next time!”
“What, why?!” Nate seems annoyed at me all of a sudden for being so shaken up. “I thought you said not to be afraid?! Aren’t you proud of me? I came out here all by myself!”
“Forget what I said Nate! There are some things you should be afraid of…”
We get out of the clearing of the woods and see the trailer in view. I looked around for the eyes, but there was nothing. We hide our wet clothes, and I place the lighter on the counter as we enter the trailer. For a good few hours, I sit silent while Nate tries to ask me what happened.
I decided that it would be better for me not to tell him everything, so I came up with a fake story to scare him from going out again. “There was a monster outside-“
He interrupts quickly, “You saw it, didn’t you? The one with the white eyes?…”
I stop, chills run down my neck. “Listen… no more going out at night…” We both silently agreed, and I tried not to further disturb myself by continuing to talk about it.
But then Nate says something innocently terrifying, “Is it still dangerous if it’s in my mind?” The way he says it rubs me entirely the wrong way, as if what he said was possible. I shudder at the haunting idea…
“No, whatever is in your head, it’s only there cause you put it there, it doesn’t actually exist…” It sounds right, but even for me, it’s just a bit too practical to believe.
I remember checking all the windows that night before going to bed. My brother and I had the lantern close to us just in case. Every time my eyes would get heavy, I would jolt awake, wanting to stay vigilant. But eventually my eyes closed, and I fell asleep.
I woke up abruptly. I wasn’t able to move; my breathing was heavy, Nate was fast asleep right beside me, but I couldn’t wake him up. I looked at the corner of the room, and I saw the same two white eyes peering from the darkest corner inside the trailer. I squirmed, tried to yell, but nothing happened, not even a sound. It looked through me just like before. I jolted awake, Nate still fast asleep next to me.
My eyes were fixed on that corner of the room until the sun came up. The comfort of the sunlight was the only way I could get any sleep. When I woke up, the sun hadn’t completely risen, but oddly, the trailer was quiet.
I got up and went to find Nate, who was on the floor watching cartoons, “Where’s Mom?” I asked him.
“I dunno. Still sleeping?” Nate answered.
I peeked into her room, but the bed was empty. “She’s not here.”
“Maybe she had a morning shift?” Nate said.
“Maybe.” I look out the window and see her car parked outside. “But her car is still here.”
Nate looks at me, “Picked up by someone?”
It was possible. If the car broke down, she’d usually get a ride from someone. I don’t think twice about it, expecting her to get dropped off sometime later in the day, but with every hour, my worry grows. Night begins to fall, still no sign of her.
I rationalize that she must be working a double shift, and that she’ll be back in the morning. So we go to bed, confident that we’ll see her at sunrise.
That night had the same quiet that I felt at the rock, no animals, no crickets, no wind, just silence. I didn’t dare look out any of the windows, because I was scared I might see it out there somewhere staring straight at me. For the first time in a long time, Nate and I slept in our mom’s room, hoping maybe she’d wake us up when she came home, but in the morning we were still the only ones in the trailer.
Even if Mom was gone a lot, she would never leave us like this. I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if I should look for her. I thought back to that thing in the forest, and my heart sank. I saw what it did to that deer. I was more afraid of what I’d find than what I wouldn’t.
Thankfully, it was morning, so it felt safer going to the rock when we had light. I looked at Nate, “Should we go look for Mom?”
Nate looked at me, concerned, “Are you sure it’s safe?…”
I use Nate to muster up my own courage, “How are we going to survive without her? If some monster doesn’t kill us, then starvation will!”
He looks at me, “Last time you said-“
“Forget what I said last time, okay! I’d be a goner if it wasn’t for you! Just promise me this: if anything ever happens to me, you gotta leave me and save yourself. The reason I told you not to come out was for your safety, I can’t protect you all the time… promise that you’ll save yourself!” He nods to me.
Nate looks at me, “Josh, what did you see in the forest?”
I hesitated, but eventually reluctantly explained what had happened to me, “That thing with the white eyes, don’t let it find you.”
We grab our backpacks, jackets, and tools, looking at the trailer before we set out on what’ll likely be our last journey, one way or another. We make our way to the rock; the path is clear during the day, everything as it should be. We quickly reach the clearing, just as we remember it.
The corpse of the deer remains where it was. There isn’t much area to explore, and no sign of Mom. We circle the area together, walking into the dense trees, deeper and deeper, but with no luck. Defeated, we head back to the trailer and wait for another dreaded night to fall.
The same sickening silence falls over the area. At this point, I’m not even sure what I’m thinking. I know it’s out there somewhere. How long can we last here? What is there left to do?…
Nate and I huddle close next to each other, sitting low to the ground, avoiding the windows. All the lights are off, but we keep the lantern on. We sit in silence, just staring at the ground in front of us; the lack of sleep makes our eyelids heavy.
The hours of the night feel like days, and Nate slowly nods off to sleep first. I stand guard, getting glimpses outside. At times, I can’t find it; other times, I barely see it peeking from the darkness. Closer, further, closer, further, it moves without motion, eyes always fixed in our direction.
I begin to drift off; as much as I fight it, inevitably, my eyes eventually shut. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but my eyes opened abruptly. It’s dark; I look over at where Nate was; I don’t see him.
In an instant, I’m wide awake. I nearly rush out of the room to look for him, but restrain myself. I flick the lantern; it’s dead. I creep out of the room, scanning the area. It’s dark, but I notice something, it’s not silent anymore.
I rush around the trailer looking for Nate. The front door is open. Without thinking twice, I grab the lighter and make beeline for the woods, desperate, hopeless.
The silence; I needed to find the silence. I run to the rock, but the noises remain. I wait, but nothing. Running out of options, I resort to a desperate plan. I rummage through my bag, a wound-up spool of yarn, I tie it to a branch in the clearing, and put the ball of string back in my backpack. Then, headlong, I ran deeper into the darkness of the forest. Deeper, listening, deeper, listening, until finally I’m completely lost. The small line of string, the single hope for my safe return.
I stop, heart about to burst, blood replaced with adrenaline, my mind settles into a silent plea for reason, but there’s nothing left.
I crumble to my knees, “Where are you?!” I didn’t know who I was calling for; I just hoped something would happen. Half desperate for my brother, the other half ready to face that thing.
It reminded me of the first night we came out to play hide and seek. The first night I was the seeker, the night I came to get the lighter, Nate was the seeker, it was my turn again…
“Josh!” In the distance, I hear the familiar voice of my brother. Relief washes over me, but then my mind wanders. Why now, why was there no silence? Where had the thing gone? Was that sound actually my brother? Why would it just bring him out here?
I shouted just to make sure, “Nate?! Is that you!”
“Josh! Where are you!” He calls back.
“How am I supposed to know?!” I pause, still not sure how to feel about any of this. Was this some kind of trap or ruse? I decided to find out before getting any closer. “Nate! I miss Mom!”
“Me too!” He hollers back.
I continued, “Remember, for one of her birthdays, we didn’t have a gift, remember what we gave her?”
“Are you talking about when we almost burned the trailer down trying to bake cupcakes?” It wasn’t quite the answer I was thinking, but only my brother would know something like that.
“I was thinking about that time when we made that car freshener out of a pinecone and gave it to her, but burnt cupcakes work too.” With renewed confidence, I made my way to my brother.
His voice got closer and closer until he was practically right next to me. I pulled out the lighter, flicking it on to illuminate the area, and Nate, seeing the light, came stumbling forward.
I grabbed him quickly, gave him a big hug, but our reunion was short-lived. That unsettling silence that I knew all too well fell over us once again. It was here. I looked toward the way that the string led, but to my dread, the string was being pulled into the dark slowly, steadily. The thing was following the trail I had just left for myself.
A cold chill ran down my spine. I took off my backpack, leaving it and everything else right there on the ground. I flicked off the lighter, and Nate and I made our way to the cover of a tree shrouded in the dark.
I don’t know why, but something compelled me to wait for the thing to appear. As if seeing it one more time would give me some sort of understanding, or maybe my instinct just knew that it was safer to hide than run.
Nate and I sat silent, motionless, barely breathing. I looked over at the backpack on the floor. There was just enough moonlight peeking through to see the bag and the line of string. The string pulled, and pulled, eventually becoming taut, then limp again on the ground, the shadow emerged from the tree line, motionless. Its eyes never even looked at the bag; it stared just beyond it, through it.
A gaze so hollow and empty, yet full of unknown intention. I looked back at Nate, who was closing his eyes now, then back at the spot where the shadow was; it had already vanished.
We were still shrouded in silence, and I kept dead quiet; something deep inside told me not to make a sound, and I knew Nate felt the same. I could only pray that eventually the comfort of sound would return, but it didn’t. It was waiting…
Then a sickening thought fell over me. What if, this time, I wasn’t the seeker; what if, this time, it was… What if the last two times, it had been “hiding”? It was never trying to be found, but now that it had been, it couldn’t hide anymore, not from the eyes that had seen it…
My heart sank to my stomach. It was looking for us, one final game of hide and seek. Cold sweat began dripping from my face, my hands becoming clammy. I look at Nate, unable to communicate with him.
I’m clutching the lighter in my hand, as I scan around trying to find the figure, but it’s impossible. Besides the dots, any part of its body would blend in with the pitch-black darkness.
I ravage my brain trying to come up with a plan. I thought hard, trying to piece together anything about this thing. I go back to my encounter, the way it looked through me, the strange silence. With nothing else to go on, I desperately craft some sort of strategy.
A few things that sounded reasonable, but not concrete. There was something significant about the sound, or rather, lack of it. Possibly in the silence it creates, it uses sound as sight? There was also something with light, maybe helping it see, but not able to be in it. It was shoddy at best, but it was all I could come up with based on everything I could recall…
Yet the more I thought, the more it made sense. The more closely we resembled its nature, the harder we became to detect, the dark, the silence, the stillness, maybe that’s what it was used to.
That meant we had no choice but to wait. I felt the hours pass; the silence was deathly. Not even the cold air relieved my feverish state. I didn’t move an inch, not even the slightest shuffle of my clothes. I had to keep Nate awake, so I made sure to squeeze his hand every time I saw his head nodding off.
For what was likely an hour that felt like an eternity, things went as planned; it was torture, but doable, and we just had to wait until morning. With no light, my eyes adjusted to the dark, but then, just a few feet away from us, I saw something move, a shadow. I didn’t even look up. I kept my head down, staring at my feet. It seemed like Nate didn’t notice, which was good.
I held my breath, but kept aware even after it passed. But then I realized something wasn’t right, I would catch motion every few minutes. It was getting closer… Somehow, someway, it was closing in on our location. I panicked, a million questions filling my brain. The plan seemed assured, but I felt my heart pounding in my chest, and my breathing quickened ever so slightly. I heard my own heartbeat in my head; it was faint, but I heard it. The chilling realization was that it had heard us this entire time, and had slowly been trying to figure out where we were…
The lighter was still in my other hand, and I contemplated what we would do. It could provide us light, the only thing that might protect us from the shadow, but once it knew where we were, eventually the lighter would go out, and deep down I knew that it wouldn’t be enough to last the night. We would have to find a way to move from where we were, if we could just buy a little more time, but how?
I play scenarios over and over in my head; none of the options are good, but I have to choose something. I motion to Nate to take off his shoes. It would be impossible to be silent while trying to escape, but I thought maybe even the slightest reduction of sound could make a difference. More than that, the only other way to draw attention away from us would be some sort of distraction. I kept my shoes on because I had already decided; I would be that distraction.
I grab Nate gently and look at him. I point over to where my backpack is. Like a game of charades, I try to explain my plan without words. He looks at me, and I see the terror in his eyes, but I give him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders tighter. I hugged him tightly, and knowing exactly what that meant, tears welled up in his eyes. In 5 seconds, Nate would be sneaking back to the clearing, and I’d be running as far away from him as I could.
I hold up my fingers, the countdown begins: 5,4,3,2,1… I take off, leaving Nate behind. My steps are heavy, I don’t look back, I don’t hear him, a good sign. My heart is racing a million miles, my vision a blur, if the eyes are watching me, I couldn’t see them, all I had to go off of was the silence. My footsteps don’t even reach my own ears; I knew it was on me. I run as fast and as far as I can, expecting to see the white eyes at any moment. Instead, I burst forth from the dark into another clearing.
I stop abruptly; it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. In the middle of the small clearing, I make out what seems to be a small abandoned cabin, decrepit, lonely, desolate. There is nothing around it; for just a moment, my mind forgets my terror. I look behind me, but I don’t see any white eyes, no misplaced shadows, but the silence remains. Every part of me is disturbed, caught in a stalemate, to return to the forest or approach the cabin. I conclude that either choice may lead to the same fate. I twist the handle, and the door opens with a long, drawn-out creak.
The cabin is dark, full of dust and cobwebs. I walk around tense, looking around, through the window, I see the white dots from the tree-line, somehow, I feel at ease knowing that Nate has probably made it back to the trailer by now. Still another part of me is constantly on edge, ready for some serial killer to jump out at me at any moment. I look around, waiting for the shadow to come closer, but it never does. I scour the house looking at whatever I can, maybe a source of light, but everything is old, as if it had been built ages prior.
Old books in a language I don’t understand, a kitchen with dusty pots neatly arranged, a living room beside a fireplace, the firewood long rotted through, dusty sofas and couches, and a rug in the center. I go upstairs to see three rooms neatly arranged: a bedroom, a bathroom, and an empty room.
Nothing is out of the ordinary. I look outside the top-floor window; the white dots are still looking at me from the edge of the forest. In the bedroom, I find a small book. Inside are pages and pages of notes, with corresponding dates.
They start normal, like recounts of a day, what the person writing ate for breakfast, but then a section stood out. I take the book and make my way to the porch, the moonlight shining down into the clearing. It’s beautiful, even seeing the eyes peering at me from the dark. Somehow, I’m more afraid to be inside than in the open.
I open the book, and look at the heading, May 9th 1904 “there’s something in the woods.”
The writings describe in detail nearly everything the writer experienced. One part read “Joe never did come back, he ran into the forest, teeth out, snarling at something I couldn’t see, he was too far to hear my calls… I do miss that ol dog.”
“Its dead stare looks straight through a man, past their eyes, and right through them.”
The entries become more sporadic; “It’s so quiet, it’s so quiet” is repeated several times across an entire page.
“I made sure to lock all the doors for a third time! It won’t get into my room again…”
“I can’t see it, I know it’s there. I can’t hear it, I know it’s there.”
The most haunting and disturbing sections come from the writer’s clear degradation into madness, “I know what you areeee!” The writing has devolved into scribbles, “you can’t find me if you can’t see me!”, “What do you mean you don’t like my eyes?”, “Who let you in here!?”, “As long as I’m quiet…”, “I don’t want you in my head anymore…” It feels like he’s talking to whatever that thing is, but the only response he got was from his own deranged psychosis.
The last entry reads, “You’re not real. You’re not real, I know you’re not real. You’re not standing right beside me; it’s all a lie. I’m alone, I’m fine. I’m alone, I’m fine. The doors are locked, no way in. You weren’t in the attic; there’s light in the attic. Why are you here? I’m safe in the cellar, quiet, and dark, just how we like it. Stop looking at me. I’ll be gone soon, you can leave me alone now. Please, I’ll be gone soon, I promise.”
I close the book, and look into the woods, the eyes are gone. I walk back into the house in front of the fireplace. I take the lighter out of my pocket and light the book on fire, before placing it onto the ash pile. I know the flame won’t last long, but it’s something. I gather a few of the books to the fireplace, and throw them into the fire to keep it burning.
Nervously, I go upstairs, I look up at the ceiling trying to find the entrance to the attic, then I see the hatch, it’s too high for me to reach. I grab a kitchen chair and lug it noisily up the stairs. It’s just enough to unlatch the attic door that drops down a ladder. I ascend the ladder slowly, carefully, and timidly peek into the attic that’s full of dust. Using the lighter, I give myself vision; on the ground is a small lamp. It’s not much, but it’ll last longer than the lighter alone. I climb all the way up and take it in my hands. On the floors and walls, I see mad scribbles all over, etched images that look like the shadow.
The place is unsettling, a disturbing contrast to the rest of the orderly house. I head down the ladder and down the stairs. Midway down, I freeze. I look up, instantly noticing something in the doorway. There it was, standing there staring straight through me. It’s pitch black outline blocking out the moonlit porch.
Its presence, just like the first night I’d seen it; the same wrong feeling, every part of my body pulling away. I sit down, making myself smaller, unsure of what’s going to happen next. I open the lighter and light the lamp. Placing it between me and the entity. I stare at where its feet would be, avoiding its eyes.
Just like all the other times, it remains unmoving, silent. I blink for a moment, and it disappears from my view. I look up fully, and the doorway is empty, then in the corner of my eye, standing on the stairs… I don’t look at it.
I blink, and it’s gone again. This time, I didn’t see where it went. I grab the lantern and make my way to the fireplace. Still wanting to burn the heap of books I had brought over. I entered the living room; it had already entered the kitchen, knowing where I’d be next.
The next few hours are silent. While beside the fireplace, I turn off the lamp, making sure to burn all the books before resorting to my other sources of light.
As I waited for books to burn one by one, I’d flip through pages to see what they were about, the shadow would get closer and closer, testing a theory I opened the lighter, holding it out toward the shadow, so that it would be near light, the shadow would disappear instantly, not in a smoke, or vapor, but as it was never there. One of my theories had turned out to be true.
I thought about the writing in the book, I thought of what Nate said, and I wondered, even if I somehow made it out of here, would I really be safe? Is this thing still dangerous, even if it’s in my head? What about Nate? I hoped he made it back to the trailer.
After running out of books to burn, I lit the lamp. The final stretch had begun; at this point, the shadow had vanished from my sight, but its silence was still present. Waiting for me to make one wrong step. I sat with my legs crossed next to the lamp. The lamp burned for what felt like a little under two hours, but dawn had barely started breaking, so I grabbed the lighter and flicked it on. Placing it on the floor right in front of me.
The shadow appeared this time, the light just weak enough to illuminate my face. I felt my hair stand up on the back of my neck as a pressing weight fell on one of my shoulders. Its touch was cold, unnaturally so, and my sweat was like a fountain. The cold was so intense that it burned like a hot-cold fever, slowly spreading from my shoulder to my spine, down my back, and every part of my body not illuminated by the faint glow of the lighter. I closed my eyes, praying that I wouldn’t be plunged into utter darkness. If it could hear my pulse, it must’ve been like a beacon. A beacon ready to be snuffed out in an instant.
Then, with the first chirp of a bird, the touch on my shoulder vanished… I let the lighter burn out even after I was sure it was over; the weak light of morning barely shone into the cabin.
I had next to nothing left in me. I sat utterly paralyzed until the sky was fully blue. Somehow, pulling myself up from the ground, I made my way to the forest line. I looked back at the cabin, and just for a moment, I swear I saw two white dots looking at me from the doorway.
I made my way through the forest the best that I could. That terrifying run, a memory I’d rather not have etched into my mind, ended up being what miraculously led me back to the string that would lead me home. I followed it back to the clearing, through the woods. The sounds of birds and wind, and my own footsteps, were music to my ears.
I heard a familiar voice, “This way!” It was Nate, but who was he talking to? I hurried forward.
“Nate!” I call out, then I see him. He can barely believe his eyes as he runs toward me. Behind him, I see a larger man wearing a diner uniform. “Who’s this guy?” I asked, immediately confused.
The man looks at me, “Hey, you must be Josh. I’m Kevin. We haven’t seen your mom at work in a while, so Susie asked me to come check up on you guys.” The look on his face read genuine concern. I must’ve looked like crap; dehydrated, dusty, like I haven’t slept in days. “Are you okay? Where’s your mom?” He asked.
“We don’t know, she hasn’t come home in a few nights,” I uttered weakly.
Kevin looks at us worried, “Look, I think it would be best if I take you boys to the diner until we find out what’s going on.”
A wave of relief came over me. Though it didn’t seem like it, at that moment, Kevin was like an angel sent from heaven. We gathered our stuff and left for the diner; the burger I had there reminded me of my mom. The police got involved, but nothing came of it; they simply said she must’ve run away or run off with someone. To be honest, I hoped that was true, the idea that she was out there somewhere, finally happy, was better than what I had come to.
Nate and I refused to go back to the trailer, and eventually, we were put into foster care. We never told anyone what we saw in that forest, but I still have the lighter from that day.
Sometimes, when I’m alone in the dark, and I feel that cold touch on my shoulder, I flip it on again, just until I’m able to go back to sleep.