Shine Through, Shine On

Most explanations are simple once you let go of all your preconceptions.

***

That morning, I didn’t want to read her letter.

I thought maybe she would try to stop me from going, or at the very least list out a few good reasons why I’m a shit father. I almost just threw the damn thing away. But her car keys were laying on top of the letter and the coffee pot was warm and full.

She was no where to be found, yet here she was, offering me her hand.

I wanted to take it. I wanted to take it badly.

So I lifted her letter and began to read.

Miran,

I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean half the things I said (yes, only half).

I don’t want you to go. But not because I think you shouldn’t go, but because I think you can’t go. Your knee still hasn’t recovered and you’ve never backpacked before. Uncle Joss was experienced and knew Pinecrest like the back of his hand. That part of the forest has a way of swallowing you whole and heartily, and I just don’t want what happened to him to—

But I know you need answers. I know you need to know what happened to your brother out there on that trail. And though I can’t give you my blessing, I can give you my understanding.

I am putting my foot down with the whole hitchhiking thing though (serial killers are real!), so please, for the love of God take my car and give me some peace of mind.

I hope you find what you’re looking for, Dad.

And please, be careful.

–Boo

After I finished reading, I folded the letter into thirds then tucked it into my shirt pocket, wanting to keep her words close. She had no idea how much I needed them.

Then, I reached forward and picked up her car keys. She had a small Mike Wazowski keychain attached, the character from her favorite movie Monsters, Inc.

I remembered when she was a little girl, we’d watch that movie ten times a day just to keep her from crying. It’s why I still called her “Boo.”

I rolled over the worn, plastic monster with my thumb, and when I pressed down on its eye, the little toy glowed green.

Green that shined through. Green that shined on.

I loved it.

Then I filled my coffee mug to the top, grabbed my backpack, and walked out the front door.

***

Each step I take with trepidation, for I am just a small insect inside the mouth of a monster.

The maze of pine trees is absolute and overwhelming; a never-ending mass of branched towers twisting and contorting into one another. It’s worse when the sun goes down and the trees, somehow, stretch taller and wider, elongating into a distorted darkness. And then everything, including myself, disappears with the night.

The sun set a few minutes ago. Darkness is closer than near.

And I am lost.

And I am scared.

I started my trek where Joss started his—at Pinecrest lake— and have been hiking my way north for about a week now. At least, I think I’m heading north; my compass stopped working yesterday and I cannot find my map. I must have misplaced it.

I haven’t found any signs of Herring Creek and my water supply is getting very low. My phone died two days ago, and I should have hit Hammill by now. My knee started swelling this morning and I fear I will have to make camp again soon to alleviate the pain.

This is such a fucking mess, I knew Boo was right when she said I shouldn’t have come, I knew that. But I had to see this for myself, feel this for myself. I had to try and find Joss, try and make some sense of—

SNAP.

I freeze, instantly. My heavy breathing, my boots crunching on leaves, all of my weight just stops. I hold my breath. And then I hear it again.

SNAP.

I spin around at the unmistakable sound of a branch breaking nearby, this one closer than the last, I’m sure of it. Feeling my heart pounding in my chest, I reach into my pocket for my flashlight. I click it on and the light shines, but dimly. I’ve had to use this flashlight every night out here, and I think it’s running out of batteries. Didn’t think about packing extra.

My hand tries holding the light steady but I’m shaking, shit I’m shaking badly. I flash the dull light in the direction of the sound but don’t see anything—

SNAP. SNAP. SNAP.

I turn to the right, trembling. And then, forming fully from shadows, I see its eyes shining like golden coins.

Eyes that shine through.

Eyes that shine on.

In an instant I know those eyes, and whatever they belong to, have been watching me for a long time. Yes, those eyes have been waiting for me, for this moment, right now.

I can’t breathe, I can’t think. All I can do is stare at that ugly pair of yellow, unblinking eyes, as they bore back into mine.

Suddenly, the creature steps out from behind the trunk of the tree. And I see it. I see all of it.

It’s standing upright on two hairy legs, with outstretched hooves for hands. Its massive head holds two thick horns, tall and curved, like bent branches. This thing, whatever it is, opens its maw too wide, the corner of its lips tugging upward in a lopsided grin. And it’s breathing, heavily, through that torn, ragged mouth.

In the unending moment before unrelenting terror unleashed itself upon me, the forest lay still, the night held its breath, and all was silent.

Then, in a voice as dry and dead as autumn leaves, the creature says one word.

“Miran.”

I watch the thing take one step forward. And then I’m running.

I don’t wait a second longer, I don’t even look back. I just turn and sprint forward as fast as my legs take me. The trail becomes a blur and so does the trees, but I don’t stop, can’t stop, because every ounce of my being is screaming at me to run, run, run.

I can hear it, that horrible, terrible thing following me, catching up to me. It’s faster than I am, and God, how am I going to outrun—

Suddenly, through the tangle of trees a dim orange glow grows bolder and brighter with each step I take. Yes, the faster I run, the closer the flames become.

It’s a fire. A forest fire. Someone is out here, someone who can—

“Help!” I scream. My voice catches in my throat and I try again, louder this time.

“Help me, please!” I’m much, much closer to the flames now and can make out three silhouettes standing around it.

I can’t help myself, I break into a grin and pump my arms faster and faster, determined to reach them before the creature reaches me. I call out to campfire group one last time.

But when I’m just a few yards away, I come to a complete stop. Because I can tell, even from here, that there’s something not right with them.

Three women, each one naked and thin, are jumping over the flames of a gorging bonfire. As they jump, their pale, loose flesh hangs from their bones, like limp laundry on a clothesline. They look identical, with their long black hair falling far past their hips. But quickly, my eyes fall on what each one is holding in their hands: a small, plump chunk of— meat?— covered in feathers.

It’s impossible to look away, but I want to, God, how I want to.

The woman on the left stops and takes a bite of the thing in her hand. A stream of scarlet runs down her chin, down her chest, finally falling on her breast.

In my horror, I accidentally step backwards, snapping a branch. The woman turns her head and looks right at me.

And at that moment, everything I’d been holding inside— Joss, the creature, the maze of trees, and now this woman with maroon stained lips— comes spilling out, and I scream.

Oh, how I scream.

“Miran?”

I turn around, convinced I’m about to be face to face with that demon in the trees.

But instead, there, scraped up and standing before me, is Joss.

My Joss. My little brother. He’s alive!

I fall forward and collapse into his arms, sobbing his name over and over again. After a minute, I pull away and look at my little brother for the first time in over a year.

And he doesn’t look good.

Joss’s entire left side looks cut up, like something clawed at him. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he’s lost a lot of weight. I grip his shoulders.

“Joss, where were you man? I, we’ve, shit we’ve been searching everywhere. We thought, maybe, you were…” I trail off and realize Joss isn’t looking at me. He’s looking past me. Remembering the three women, I turn around.

But all I see is the bonfire blazing, unguarded, unwatched. Joss never takes his eyes off the flames and begins to walk towards it. Before he passes me, I slam my palms against his chest.

“Hey! You’ve been gone, Joss, fucking gone and dead to the world! Will you please just look at me and—” My brother cuts me off.

“There's no time.”

I stare at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Joss lowers to the ground and starts frantically scooping up twigs, leaves, and any other rubble he can find. He’s whispering soft murmurs to himself, but I can barely make him out.

“They’re coming, they’re here. They’re all around. But the fire, the flame, it will keep them away. The fire, the flame, it will keep them at bay.”

Like a mad man, Joss is scrambling around and tossing anything and everything he can find into the bonfire. I try and stop him but he shoves me off, then continues scavenging for sticks.

Right then, one of the center logs splits in two and crashes down, embers flying. Joss freezes, staring at the flames.

“We need more wood. I’ll be right back. Tend to the fire. Don’t let the light go out.”

I start shaking my head, not quite believing what I’m hearing.

“Joss, I just found you. Please, you can’t—”

But my brother is already running past me, heading for the woods.

And then I’m alone, standing beside fading fire light. I call out to my brother, two, three, ten times. I’m not ready for him to disappear again.

When I turn back to face the fire, I can’t believe my eyes. The flames dwindled into small licks, and the once blazing bonfire is now a pile flickering coals.

That can’t be though. The fire was burning out of control just a second ago. A fresh wave of panic washes over me. My brother’s last words ring in my ear:

Don’t let the light go out.

And then it’s me scavenging the forest floor on all fours, tossing every last branch, stick, and leaf into the fire. I’m trying, I swear to God I’m trying with all my might to keep these flames going. But no matter how many things I toss in there, it’s as if they evaporate into dust, and soon, I’m watching the last bit of blaze burn out.

And then, I am consumed by complete darkness.

“Joss!” I shout out to my brother, my voice is swallowed whole and heartily by an unforgiving forest. “Joss, please, come back!”

No answer, no sound. Nothing but—

SNAP.

I spin to the left at the sound of a branch breaking and suddenly, I’m sure, quite sure, that the creature is back.

“W-who’s there?” I whisper, my voice faltering. As if in answer, an onset of bright giggles burst out, and I turn around, digging into my pockets for my flashlight. But it’s not there, the only thing I can find are my car keys—

Don’t let the light go out.

I’m on my knees now, groping at the ground for my backpack, because maybe I left the flashlight in there. But I can’t see anything in the dark. I crawl forward and then…

A pair of yellow eyes blink at me from the shadows. And as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I watch the creature’s massive silhouette elongate disproportionately, and then it’s standing on two legs right in front of me. I stare at its maw, hanging low and wide and now unhinging from its jaws.

Trying to get away, I fall backwards hard, my palms slamming into the ground. And unable to take the madness of the moment any longer, I shut my eyes and brace myself for death.

But it never comes.

Because just then the creature hisses at me and begins to back away. It looks afraid actually, really afraid, and I remember—

Don’t let the light go out.

I look down at my right hand and see a faint light emanating from beneath my palm. I lift my hand and stare right at Mike Wazowski’s glowing green eye.

Boo. Her car keys. The key chain with the little toy light.

Light that shines through.

Light that shines on.

After a few seconds, I look back at the creature, expecting its ugly yellow eyes to be staring at me. But they're gone.

And this is how I stay, still clutching my daughter’s glowing key chain, until dawn arrives and sunlight streams through the tree line.