A Sunday Jog
You know that forest near your house? I want you to picture it clearly.
It was a late Sunday afternoon. The sky turned a mixture of ocean blue and cotton candy pink. What a perfect night to put on your sneakers and head outdoors for some cardio.
You had recently taken up running, and had a regular route down to the forest and along it’s perimeter. The brisk evening air felt refreshing on your skin as you set out for an enjoyable and stress relieving jog. Your runs were’t typically long, 45 minutes to an hour. Your stamina has improved quickly over the past weeks, and the tempurature was perfect; warm enough to aid your joints and cool enough to not overheat.
You set out by the forest, it looked so appealing. You had not been in there, actually, you had never really heard of anyone who had. There seemed to be a stigma about these woods, not necessarily haunted or mystical, just a sense of “don’t go in there, the bush will eat you alive” sort of vibes.
“They didn’t even look that dense.” you think to yourself.
As the thought crossed your mind, you imagined what could possibly be inside the mysterious woods, and like a seed it grew ever more enticing.
“Let’s try it, what’s the worst that could happen?” you thought to yourself.
The appeal was great, it looked fun actually, and the night was perfect to explore.
The brush was surprisingly open. Old sticks and moss covered the forest floor, creating a nice texture and softness for running. But it wasn’t long until the daylight dissapeared as the forest’s edge got further away. It was hard to tell if it was the time of day, or the coverage of the canopies that caused it to get so dark. Maybe it was the weather.
As darkness began to set in heavily, you realize you're hopelessly lost. You looked for an opening overhead, and the cracks in the trees revealed the sky had turned a curtain of ink, stars faintly blinking like distant lighthouses with no promise of direction. Lost in the ever-darkening woods, a sense of anxiety settles over you like a heavy fog. The sky offers no guidance; its stars too distant and dim to navigate by. What was supposed to be a simple day of hiking has turned into an unnerving maze of trees and disorienting trails.
“Okay, time to get out of here” you mutter, with a drizzle of optimism, as if you weren’t already hopelessly lost. Maybe this is worse than you thought.
“I just have to retrace my steps”
The process seemed easy at first, until it was clear there was no sign of your footprints on the soft forest floor. It had been maybe 30-40 minutes at this point, and a soft drizzle of rain began to seep through the thick ceiling of oak trees.
A few minutes later, the gentle drizzle gushed into a heavy downpour as the sky opened up with what felt like anger. Your gut began to turn as you realized this was getting bad. I mean, realistically everything should be fine, but you had to work in the morning, and if you were late... Let’s not think about what would happen.
You would have to reach the edge of the woods at some point. But among all this optimism, a sense of terror and dread began to overcome your positive glow.
“Will I have to lay down for the night?” you wonder.
With an increasing sense of isolation, you feel your heart race with every rustling leaf and snapping twig. Just when despair threatens to snuff out the last flicker of hope, you spot a glowing light in the distance.
Fuelled by a rush of adrenaline, you eagerly move toward the light. As you near the tent, glowing warmly from an internal lantern, your heartbeat quickens as you become increasingly alert.
You're so focused on your newfound beacon that you don't notice the wire stretched low across the path. Your foot catches, tripping the wire and sending you sprawling forward. Before you can even react, a wave of darkness engulfs you as you're knocked out cold…
When you come to, you find yourself inside the tent, your senses gradually adjusting to the dim atmosphere. A feminine presence fills the tent with an aura of both mystery and comfort, as if she is both the question and the answer you've been searching for.
