Come In

I turned away from the forest once the bird’s song had faded. The night was very calm, and now it was silent as well.

In the distance I could see the lights of the city. They were harsh and artificial, interrupting the otherwise serene darkness of the night. The starlight wasn’t like that. It was a soft and natural light, casting a glow on everything around me and only disappearing when it met the much brighter city lights. I could never see the stars from my apartment window, which was the main reason for my twenty minute drive out to the country. It reminded me of home, which I missed a little more every day.

I had left when I was eighteen, heading to the big city with the dream to be an editor for a famous magazine. Five years later, and I’m still only an intern at the office building. In fact, my boss still forgot my name more often than he remembered it. I often thought about just up and leaving, and how much happier I’d be if I could.

But I knew I couldn’t.

I was the main source of income for the family I hardly ever saw anymore, and my mother still had high hopes for me. I knew what was expected of me, and that was to become wealthy from my dream job and become established in the city so the rest of them could join me in my penthouse suite. I scoffed a little, thinking of my days spent filling coffee mugs and photocopying schedules. Like that was ever going to happen.

Speaking of work, I had to be there early the next morning and it was nearly midnight. I looked up at the sky one last time to see the reason I was out so late, and was surprised to see that there were no longer any stars out. It was strange, as it couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes since I had been watching them intently, and I hadn’t noticed any clouds. However, now the sky was dark, and even the city lights seemed dimmer.

I thought this would worry me, but I was surprised at how at ease I felt. It was as though this was completely natural. Shaking off the feeling, I stood up to start the walk back to my car, about five minutes away. However, I stopped when I heard the bird begin to sing once more. Again, I knew this was unnatural. Who had ever heard of a bird singing at night? This was the time for crickets and frogs. And yet, this was different. The song sounded more inviting, enchanting, rather than just an ordinary bird’s call.

I turned to look at the forest. Although it was completely dark now, somehow I could still see the outlines of ancient trees, their branches dark and twisted. The bird continued to sing, calling me forward again. The song was more alluring, and since I had spent my time with the stars, I contemplated going for a short walk in the woods. I thought about my mother’s warnings, from when I was a small child.

“Be careful,” she’d say, when my sister and I asked to go outside and play in the autumn leaves. “Stay away from the river, and don’t go on the road. And stay away from the forest. You never know what you might find in there. Or what might find you.”

Back then this had been more than enough to scare us into behaving. But now I was much older, and able to take care of myself. Thinking back, I had always done what my mother had asked of me, without question or fuss. Maybe that was part of the reason I feel so lost and miserable now. I had never decided what I wanted to do for myself, and only blindly followed orders.

Well, that was going to change, starting now.

As far as I knew this was the same forest my mother had spoken of, which stretched on for miles. It wasn’t exactly a horribly rebellious thing to do, going for a walk in the woods by myself at age twenty three, but I felt it was a start. The bird was still singing, seeming to grow more excited as I walked to the edge of the tree line. I smiled a little and after only a second’s hesitation entered the dark forest.

The air around me started to change as I walked, becoming thicker, although I couldn’t see any fog. The bird’s song continued, and I followed the song deeper into the dark woods. There was a nagging voice at the back of my head, telling me to turn around and go home, but I suddenly felt that finding this bird was incredibly important. Part of this feeling was no doubt my long subdued need for doing what I wanted to for a change, but it also seemed there was a stronger urge compelling me forward. I shook my head, dismissing the idea of other “forces” and continued on.

I had been walking for awhile, I didn’t know how long, when the forest suddenly fell quiet. When the song stopped, my mind immediately felt clearer, and I realized how wrong the forest was. There were no sounds at all, no rustling of the trees, no small insects buzzing, no small animals running in the underbrush.

It was deathly silent.

I couldn’t see the moon or any stars through the canopy above me, and yet the trees seemed to glow softly nonetheless. There was no other word for the scene around me than unnatural.

I couldn’t help thinking that maybe my mother knew more than she was letting on as I quickly turned to head back down the path the way I had come. It didn’t take long to realize I was hopelessly lost, however, as every direction I turned looked exactly the same. I was starting to panic when I heard the softest rustle in the leaves, and wildly spun around.

Right into someone’s ice cold grip. I didn’t even have time to scream before a frozen hand was clapped over my mouth.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” a voice said, sounding sweet and musical, almost like a bird, before I felt two sharp points pierce my neck and everything turned to black like the starless night above.