The Forest Knows

Suddenly, all the chaos of the real world was gone. No more email notifications, calls from her boss, bustling cars, shouting clients. Just Elizabeth, the forest, and the stream.

The cool autumn breeze brushed her face as she stepped into her sanctuary, one of the few untouched patches of nature left outside the city. Leaves crunched underfoot, orange and brown like memories. She remembered the stream being bigger when she was younger. Everything had felt bigger then.

No one else knew about this place as far as she could tell by the lack of chip bags and beer bottles. Perfectly preserved for her and days like these, perfect for getting away from it all and returning to nature.

Elizabeth crouched in the shaded area by the stream and listened to the water flow while trying to find a pattern in the way the water moved. Every now and then a leaf would pass by, floating in the water, disrupting her analysis. However, she accepted it as a subtle reminder that even in nature the world never behaves how you expect it to

“Hey!” a voice called from the trees.

She froze. No one else should know about this place.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, Elizabeth.”

She turned slowly. Nothing but trees and leaves. “Hello?” she called.

A small crow peeked out from a branch. “You’re Elizabeth, right?” it said in a high-pitched, raspy voice. It sounded eerily like her best friend from high school.

“You sound a lot like—”

“I know,” the crow interrupted. “You always come here to escape, thinking it’ll save you. It is a nice little forest, I’ll admit.”

“Escape?” she echoed.

“Do you remember what happened last time you were here?”

She tried. Her mind reached, but the memory slipped away. Her heart dropped. Why couldn’t she remember?

Just then the wind picked up. She clutched her jacket tighter, tears forming. The trees rustling louder, drowning out her thoughts. She looked for the crow, but it was gone.

Then came the sound. A dragging, scraping noise through the leaves. Elizabeth’s chest tightened and heartbeat picked up. Something else was here.

She stepped forward, peering through the trees.

It stood there across the stream. Tall, human-like, made of sticks and dead leaves. A pumpkin sat atop its shoulders, carved into it was a face. The light inside its head danced like a dying ember. The beast didn’t move. It didn’t need to.

“You don’t remember, do you?” it said in a low, distorted voice.

The crow reappeared on her shoulder, bracing against the wind. “Don’t listen to it, Elizabeth. Leave while you still can.”

But she couldn’t move. She stared at the beast.

“There’s no running from it,” it said, “Every mistake you bury grows roots here.”

A light began to glow inside the pumpkin’s head.

“The stream,” it continued, “runs on your regrets.”

“Stop…” Elizabeth whispered. Her stomach sinking.

Her voice rose. “Stop.”

The crow leaned in. “I tried to protect you from this,” it said softly. “But now we can face it together.”

Elizabeth steadied and looked at the humanoid beast.

“Again,” they said in unison.

The forest shifted. The wind softened. The pumpkin’s light dimmed.

Elizabeth breathed in the autumn air. She let go of her jacket and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She began to walk towards the stream, towards the beast. As she walked forward the beast’s light started to dim.

Then she stepped into the stream.

The cold water rushed over her shoes, soaking through her socks, seeping into her skin. She flinched but didn’t stop. The current tugged at her ankles, not to pull her under, but to remind her she was still standing. She remembered trying to understand this stream. Now she walked through it. Not to solve it, but to feel it.

She looked down, wiped away her tears, and smiled.

The pumpkin started to fall apart.

She walked toward the beast. The light inside faded completely. Her fingers touched the rough bark of its chest. Familiar. She peered into the hollow pumpkin and saw something. Herself. Younger. Scared. Still standing.

The crow perched again on her shoulder.

“You stayed,” it said.

Elizabeth turned to look at the path behind her. Then forward, past the beast.

She walked out of the forest. The crow and the beast didn’t follow.

Now, they didn’t have to.