The Dark Forest

Seventeen years of running, and I’d gotten no further away from her. My whole body ached, my muscles burned and quivered from fatigue. Exhaustion consumed me. In that nanosecond of acknowledgement, I lost focus on the path in front of me. A gnarled tree root that pierced the forest floor caught my foot and nearly sent me sprawling to the ground. Somehow, I remained standing, but my pursuer didn’t see the obstacle coming and a low groan escaped her as she collided with the ground.

I didn’t want to look at her—this hot mess of a human being that lay on the forest trail—but I did so, only to see if she was as tired as I was. How could she not be? We’d both been running this same endless path together. After a moment, she stood and brushed the dirt from her clothes, unconcerned that I might start running any second. Dark rings circled tired eyes, eyebrows furrowed, jaw set with determination. Long black hair hung around her face, swaying from the gentle breeze around us. Her athletic attire—yoga pants and a black tank—matched my own, except for the scuff marks on the knees. I’d always thought of her as a monster, though we looked the same. Lately I’d been starting to ask myself which one of us was the real me.

Part of me didn’t want to run anymore, but I couldn’t face the truth she represented: the negative consequences of my actions and a past I wanted to forget. The dense forest ahead of us crowded the path that tried to cut through it, choking it. Taking the only available escape, I turned and ran towards the darkness. Plunging myself into the unknown without caring about the end result.

The distance to the darkest part of the forest closed as I ran faster than I ever had before. She was right behind me, however, not missing a beat. Our footsteps fell in unison, the sound echoing off the trees around us. My heart raced and sweat beaded in the curve of my lower back. I refused to believe that my rapid heart rate could be the result of terror, and instead I focused on pumping my arms and legs even faster.

Dodging fallen branches and small ruts in the path, I kept running. I’d always managed to outrun her before, but this time was different. Every bad choice I’d made up to this point only made her stronger and more powerful. Every lie I’d told brought her inches closer to me. The heat of her breath hit the back of my neck. Stopping suddenly, I ducked, hoping it would throw her off balance. She flew over me and tumbled to the ground, rolling in the dirt. Not waiting to see how fast she’d recover, I sprinted toward a dangerous finish line.

Images of us running this endless race flashed through my memory. Sunlight reached the forest floor when we started, flowers bloomed, birds sang. She enticed me with smiles and hugs, promises of fun. The darkness settled in slowly with each bad choice I made. Every lie I told to cover my tracks. Over time, the blossoms died. Shadows crept in as the tree branches blocked any sunlight. Games of hide and seek turned into hiding to save my life. Her joyful smile turned sinister. 

Glancing over my shoulder now, I was certain I’d outrun her. Dread filled me instead. She wasn’t more than fifty feet behind me and only getting closer. She laughed, a cackle that echoed and bounced off the forest wall around me. She was everywhere.

In the darkness, something glowing in the decaying brush caught my eye. A lone white daffodil grew under an ancient oak tree. Six delicate white petals framed a white crown, a strange glow surrounded the whole plant.

My moment of hesitation allowed her to close the last few steps quickly. We crashed into the ground as she tackled me, her arms wrapping around my torso as we met the ground. The air in my lungs rushed out from the impact. Gasping, I rolled to my back to fend off my dark assailant. She pinned me to the ground, her lips curled in a sneer.

She stared at me with an intensity that frightened me. I hadn’t let anyone look at me like that in a long time, afraid they’d see the demons that haunted me. Even though she was the demon I most feared. I closed my eyes in some vain hope that she’d magically disappear.

“Open your eyes.” Her voice was stern, but there wasn’t a hint of malice.

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see the monster before me.

“Open. Your. Eyes.”

Reluctantly, I looked up at her and focused on a dark brown whirl in her iris. My life folded in on me in that nanosecond. Before me I saw the choices I’d made that created her, that created this forest. Some events in my life were not of my choosing and they, too, left an imprint on this place and on her. On me. Things I’d tried to forget, tried to distance myself from, all came back to me. 

My heart stopped beating. A breathless sob escaped me. The reality that I couldn’t escape her anymore struck me. As painful as it had been to outrun her all this time, it was more painful to realize that she existed because of me.

I closed my eyes, but this time it wasn’t to avoid her—it was to accept her. The weight of her body on top of mine disappeared, but she wasn’t gone. She was a part of me again, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t separate my two halves again. When I opened my eyes a moment later, the forest wasn’t quite as dark as it had been. A few rays of light managed to pierce the canopy and hit the forest floor. I sat up and turned to look at the white daffodil that had caught my attention earlier. 

Where there had only been one a few moments ago, now there were several bright white flowers bunched together. I stood and walked to the patch of daffodils and let out a tired sigh. The forest would heal with time as long as I took care of it. Relief flooded me, knowing that I didn’t have to run from myself any longer.