What Echoes in the Woods

Damp leaves whip me in the face as I bolt through the woods. Branches leave thin scratches along my arms, held up to protect my face. I can’t see more than a few feet in front of me, where the moonlight illuminates the muddy ground.

I look up at the small golden light just beyond the periphery of the woods. I don’t know what it is, but somehow I know it is my only hope. The crunching of branches behind me forces me to pick up my pace. 

My head is frozen forward, but I can tell whatever is chasing me is right on my heels. Panting, I force my legs to keep moving forward. My limbs feel like lead, weighing heavier with each step, but I am so close. Just a few more feet and I’ll reach–

I wake up sweating and gasping for air. The clock on my bedside table flashes the time in bright white numbers. 4:32 AM. Flinging my legs over the side of the bed, I try to do the breathing exercises my therapist taught me. In for five, hold, out for five. 

Once the pounding in my chest slows to a dull thud, I tiptoe to the kitchen. I live alone, but the compulsion to be quiet remains. My laptop sits open on a tiny wooden table shoved in the corner of the room, a remnant of my late-night research session. The chair wobbles as I sit down and resume reading the opened article. “Recurring Nightmares: The Impact of Repressed Trauma and the Benefits of Hypnotherapy.” A yawn slips out as I scroll through the research, and I lower my head to rest on my folded arms.

***

“Okay, Eva. So you had the nightmare again last night. Did you have a chance to read through the information about hypnotherapy that I provided?” Jayla, my therapist, asks.

I nod as I look around the room. The walls are painted a light blue, and the furniture is a mix of maple wood and white leather. All designed to elicit a sense of comfort, but even after months of sessions, I feel anything but. 

“What will happen is you’ll lie down, and we’ll try to get you to relax. When you’re ready, we'll place you in a sleep-like state, and I’ll guide you through your memories. What we’re hoping is that this will allow you to remember more than you can now. Does that sound alright to you?” Jayla continues. 

“At this point, I’ll try anything,” I respond. I shift to lie on my back, pulling a small pillow to my chest. The breath whistles out of my nose as I sigh and settle into the cold leather of the couch.

“I want you to clear your mind and try to picture the woods as clearly as possible. Think of the trees, the smell, the sounds, and focus on that,” Jayla instructs. 

I begin to hear the loud buzzing of grasshoppers singing. An owl hoots over my left shoulder, and my eyes fly open. I am in the woods.

As I turn in a slow circle, I hear Jayla’s voice. “Eva, I want you to look around and take in your surroundings.”

The familiar trees surround me with darkness, the moon barely visible through the canopy of leaves. The humidity clings to me like a sweater, and I feel a bead of sweat drip down my forehead. The ground is soft beneath my feet, and my shoes are covered in mud.

“Now, I want you to look for anything that sticks out. Anything that seems out of place.” Jayla’s voice echoes around me. I look up at the sky and back down, craning my neck for any noticeable signs of life hidden by the tree trunks.

A door slams behind me. I whip around and see two lights flash twice before going dark. Headlights.

“Evie! Who the hell do you think you are?” a voice shouts from the direction of the noise. I let out a loud gasp and slap my hands over my mouth. Leaves crunch as the man moves towards me, and I take slow steps backward. 

Crack! My ears ring as a bullet hits the trees to my right. I stumble forward and take off running. I crash through the trees, not caring where I’m heading, when I hear a roaring to the left and take off in that direction.

Thunder booms behind me, causing me to look behind as I run. I scramble back when my shoes suddenly fill with icy water. I look up and down the wide river, rushing with the extra force of the recent rains, but there is no other way to cross.

The sound of my groan is covered by the rush of the river, and I clench my teeth before plunging in. The iciness of the knee-high water makes me hiss. I stagger ahead, arms out wide in a desperate attempt to maintain my balance, as the river attacks my legs and tries to push me to the left.

I feel the water get shallower beneath my feet and jump forward, grabbing a branch and pulling myself onto the opposite shore. Gasping for air, I lie on my stomach for a moment. Crack! A bullet hits the grass to my right. I scramble to my feet and sprint into the tree line.

I hear the man shout curses over the roar of the water. A cursory glance backward reveals that his shotgun has been carried downstream, a victim of the river. As I watch him, he raises his head and locks eyes with me, flashing a malicious sneer. The man bounds forward and jumps out of the stream, but I am already running again.

A wet leafy branch slams me in the face. As I hold my arms in front of me, I recognize the familiar scratches on my arms and realize where I am. There, right ahead, is the golden light, my safe haven.

I sprint forward, ignoring the growing, aching cramp in my left side. As I get closer, I see that the light is a streetlight and, beyond that, a window. If I can just run a few more feet, there have to be people ahead.

The grass before me is illuminated by the streetlight. My mouth stretches into a desperate smile when suddenly, a heavy hand pulls me, and I fall onto my back. The man crawls on top of me and tries to grab my wrists.

“Did you really think I would let you get away with this? You ungrateful brat!” he screams, spit flying. I kick my legs and attempt to wrestle my arms out of his grip. As he turns his head to search his pockets, I manage to free one of my arms. 

He turns his attention back to me and brings his hands to my neck. The skies open, and rain begins to pour, drenching us as we each wrestle for control. My free arm flails, searching for something, anything, as he squeezes the breath from my throat. 

My fingers close around a rock. 

Thunder booms above right as I bring the rock to his head. The man falls over sideways, and I roll onto my stomach, gasping for air. Through the water dripping from my eyelashes, I watch the man convulse on the ground. I crawl over to him and raise and lower the rock three more times, spattering more blood on my face with each hit.

When he stops moving, I fall over to the side and clamber backward until my back hits a tree. Guttural sobs escape my mouth, and I chuck the rock to the right, desperately wiping my hands on my jeans. I sit there as the rain batters me and floods my vision. 

I don’t know how long I sit there when the rain starts to lighten, and I move toward the man’s body. I search his pockets until I find his switchblade and wallet. Stumbling to my feet, I turn around and walk toward the golden light. 

My shoes hit pavement, and my legs give out at the sudden change. My head plummets toward the concrete, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

But it never comes, and I jolt awake. I stare at the ceiling for a moment, afraid to blink, and bring my hands to my throat. Exhaling all the air in my lungs, I move into a sitting position, and a smiling Jayla greets me.

“Welcome back, Eva. Can you tell me a little bit about what you experienced?” she asks in a gentle voice.

I slow my breath. Five in, hold, five out. My gaze is still glued to the ground when Jayla asks again. “Eva, what did you see?”

I clench my teeth into my tongue as I bring my eyes to hers. “Nothing,” I say, forcing a smile on my lips. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. “I saw nothing. It was just the woods.”