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The cold autumn breeze blew the leaves up from the ground, gently crackling as they flitted along the old gravel paths. Rotten produce festered along the empty farm land’s once bright fields, now corrupted by time. Silence is the only thing to be heard on these days. When alone for so long, the mind runs wild. The darkness forms into figures that clamber along the rotting wooden ceilings. They hide just out of view, taunting the lonely with brief glimpses at their forms, before they slide into the cracks between wooden panels and floorboards. I can hear them talk at night. They mock me as they scatter through the halls of the building. I know where they hide. Wherever the light cannot venture, they take up their dwelling. In cupboards and closets, basements and attics, they lurk, listen, and wait. These unsightly amalgamates of the mind hide among the darkness, cowering in fear from the light that singes their flesh.
Some nights, my mind does not wish to rest. These nights have been more and more frequent as of late. On these nights I walk down the halls in hopes of meeting one of them. I have gotten close. I saw it from my window, hunched over the old tractor, but it can sense my eyes. It turned to look at me for a moment, seeming to contemplate if I could really see it. It did not last long, as it quickly covered itself with the shadows the moon casts along the ground. I quickly lit a lantern and hurried down the halls, floorboards creaking with each step. The brisk air enveloped my face. The pungent smell of the soil cutting through the air. As I ran along the ground, my barren feet pained with each step. Sharp rocks, broken glass, and rusted nails each dug into the soles of my feet. Nothing seemed to matter as I ran down the path. Beyond the tractor. Beyond the fences. Beyond the trees. Beyond the edge of the moonlight. This would be the night I would find it, I assured myself as my legs began to give out. Adrenaline wearing off, the pain soon became unbearable.
It was there upon a tree root, I sat for hours. The frequent chatter of the creatures now a quiet whisper among the trees. Defeated, I let my head fall to the soft earth beneath and stared at the vast emptiness above. That is when I saw her. Hiding among the trees, a pair of orange eyes glowed. They stared at me; pupils like a dagger’s edge. My breath stuttered and slowed to a hush. Paralyzed I lay beneath, watching as her eyes pondered my being. Without warning, they quickly vanished back into the embrace of the tree’s darkness. I do not know why, but I shut my eyes. In that moment, I did not care if they ever opened again. My soul was in the hands of the forest. In a way, I felt at peace.
What may have been minutes, or hours passed before a gentle thud awoke me. As my eyes opened to the moon watching from overhead, I heard distant footsteps. I quickly sat up right and propped myself against the tree stump. Her eyes shone bright, piercing through my chest. Her body, only a silhouette as dark as the souls of the damned. The moon cast no light on her. She paused, as still as a painting. Head tilting back and forth as if in thought, before making her way towards me. She glid along the ground as I stared in an ethereal trance. Before long, she was within inches of me. I asked who she was, but was met with no response other than that same stare. That stare that etched itself into my brain. That stare I would never forget. My eyelids began to sag as the exhaustion that had plagued me for so many nights began to take hold. She raised her arm, hand outstretched towards me. With my last drops of energy I took her hand. A feeling of security washed over my soul as the darkness began to flood into my eyes. The world now an echo. My breath slowed. Her eyes, the last thing I could picture before, nothing.
Rowan Renner-Lassar is a Junior at Kirby School, www.kirby.org