Lush green fields stretched miles out, as far as the eye could see, in the front of our farm. Many nights were spent reflecting in these fields.
On my favorite nights the moon sits at it's highest point in the sky and shines so brightly that you can even see the mountains in the distance. The field and restless winds seem to rest on these nights, and things become so quiet that you can hear your own heartbeat.
The first time I experienced the moonlit fields, I was left breathless.
To the sides and rear, smaller fields were enclosed by trees swaying with the often rough wind. Seeing the dark forests gave me chills when I stood in the backyard. The darkness within the trees and noises that drifted from, were not safe for my imagination. I figured the forest housed many animals I was familiar with, some of them I'd seen before: deer, squirrels, birds. Lately it seems as though there have been too many calls screeching from the trees that I did not recognize. One voice in particular felt like it was talking to me, or maybe asking me, for something? Energy slinking in from the forest. This force feels like it's grabbing at me, pulling me, dragging me...
Sunlight pours through the translucent white curtains hanging over the bedroom window. My eyes flutter open while my heart pounds against my chest.
Forests, my mind faintly recalled as I came to.
I was dreaming of that damn forest, again. I shivered.
Particles of dust float dreamily in the sun shining through the glass. I continue to lay on my bed a couple more moments, brain still spinning, working to bring myself back to reality. I cannot remember how many times now my dad has tried to tell me there is nothing in the trees. The saner part of myself realizes that dad is right, but it doesn't stop the hyperactive part of my imagination from reeling. I walk to the window and look out from the second story, simultaneously pulling the window open.
During the day, I can admit that the forest is beautiful; it looked as if it was it's own entity. The way the wind moved the trees as if the forest was breathing and the animals seemed to operate on a schedule together. Hive mind, I mused.
Just then, at the wood line there's movement in the tall grass. My heart begins racking against it's cage.
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