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Mira walked out of her house and instead of finding her street, she discovered a vibrant forest, thick with golden light filtered through layered leaves. The branches overhead swayed in a rhythm too slow to feel like wind. The scent of damp moss mingled with aged bark that hung heavy in the air. She looked to the sky, only to find more layered foliage where the blue sky should have loomed over her. A shudder ran down her spine as she stepped back, colliding with a round surface.
She whirled around, finding another tree instead of her home. She retreated a few steps as her body quivered. “I’ve never liked nature.”
She pulled out her phone, waiting for the GPS to connect. When it did, she found that she was miles away from her home, deep within the forest she’d grown up avoiding. Everyone who lived there whispered it was haunted. As another shiver coursed through her body, Mira collapsed to the ground.
Her grandmother once told her that no one truly entered these woods. Not unless the forest wanted them. Until now, Mira found it a laughable idea. “This forest was always too quiet, too large, and full of too many old stories about what happens at night.”
After several panicked breaths, tears flowed down her cheeks as a glowing thread of light emerged from a nearby tree, gliding gently through the air. As Mira sobbed, the thread shimmered like spun glass, looping through the trees in slow motions, leaving brief motes of light in its wake. Its movement was playful, but deliberate, like it was choosing her.
Yet Mira couldn’t see the glowing thread through her tears. After several moments of silent observation, the thread whirled about her. The abruptness of the motion halted the young woman’s tears. She looked up, studying the pulsing light. “What do you want?”
It answered with a brighter pulse, circling her in a blur.
Mira climbed to her feet as her head whipped about, searching for her home. “I don’t want to be here!”
The light paused, as if waiting.
She glanced over her shoulder, finding nothing but endless, silent trees, each one watching without eyes. Without making a conscious decision, she turned and followed the glowing thread. Her gaze snapped back to the light dancing around her face as she strode through the trees, as if drawn by an invisible tether.
Drawn forward, each reluctant step brought her across moss covered trails, under arching boughs twisted by time, and past trees that seemed to breathe and whisper amongst themselves. With the light’s companionship, Mira passed stones marked with time and roots coiled like sleeping beasts. Nothing in the forest felt idle. Rather it seemed to be eager for something.
With every passing step, the fear etched upon her brow lessened as memories of stories filled her mind. Though her fear had ebbed, a cautious awe took its place. She knew she wasn’t safe, but maybe she wasn’t supposed to be. After all, nothing so ancient offered safety...
She whirled around, finding another tree instead of her home. She retreated a few steps as her body quivered. “I’ve never liked nature.”
She pulled out her phone, waiting for the GPS to connect. When it did, she found that she was miles away from her home, deep within the forest she’d grown up avoiding. Everyone who lived there whispered it was haunted. As another shiver coursed through her body, Mira collapsed to the ground.
Her grandmother once told her that no one truly entered these woods. Not unless the forest wanted them. Until now, Mira found it a laughable idea. “This forest was always too quiet, too large, and full of too many old stories about what happens at night.”
After several panicked breaths, tears flowed down her cheeks as a glowing thread of light emerged from a nearby tree, gliding gently through the air. As Mira sobbed, the thread shimmered like spun glass, looping through the trees in slow motions, leaving brief motes of light in its wake. Its movement was playful, but deliberate, like it was choosing her.
Yet Mira couldn’t see the glowing thread through her tears. After several moments of silent observation, the thread whirled about her. The abruptness of the motion halted the young woman’s tears. She looked up, studying the pulsing light. “What do you want?”
It answered with a brighter pulse, circling her in a blur.
Mira climbed to her feet as her head whipped about, searching for her home. “I don’t want to be here!”
The light paused, as if waiting.
She glanced over her shoulder, finding nothing but endless, silent trees, each one watching without eyes. Without making a conscious decision, she turned and followed the glowing thread. Her gaze snapped back to the light dancing around her face as she strode through the trees, as if drawn by an invisible tether.
Drawn forward, each reluctant step brought her across moss covered trails, under arching boughs twisted by time, and past trees that seemed to breathe and whisper amongst themselves. With the light’s companionship, Mira passed stones marked with time and roots coiled like sleeping beasts. Nothing in the forest felt idle. Rather it seemed to be eager for something.
With every passing step, the fear etched upon her brow lessened as memories of stories filled her mind. Though her fear had ebbed, a cautious awe took its place. She knew she wasn’t safe, but maybe she wasn’t supposed to be. After all, nothing so ancient offered safety...