“Sam.”
I could barely hear my name at the edges of my subconscious but it was enough to yank me from the lull of peaceful slumber.
Opening my eyes, they slowly focused on the uneven texture of the popcorn ceiling above my bed. It was dark in my room, the moon only a dull sliver in the sky. Nothing seemed out of place, no one standing over me that could have called out to me, the TV was as black as the sky outside. The shadows didn’t move at the edges of my periphery, my bedroom door was still closed and the window to the outside shut. Chalking up the sound to a dream that felt too real, I turned onto my side and shut my eyes again.
“Sam.”
No mistaking it that time, someone was shouting my name from a distance, the sound floating in through the glass of my window pane. I shot up in bed, listening again but the silence stretched out uncomfortably long. I decided to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, exiting my bedroom and moving out to my living room.
I lived in a fairly small cabin I had built by hand in the thick pines of the Pacific Northwest. It had the essentials I needed to get through the day and books to keep my mind occupied. Years ago, I could no longer breath in the big city. The buildings and people were suffocating me, so I left and gave myself the space I needed to heal. At least I thought that’s what I was doing.
“Sam.”
My head snapped toward the front door, knowing now the voice was imploring from outside. I moved to the curtain shrouding the large living room windows, pushing it to the side just enough to peek outside.
If any one was out there, I couldn’t make out their form in the black void that pressed in on the window. I could just see the trees that lined the property but the shadows they threw hid anything else from sight.
Whoever it was knew my name, though. And that was unusual since I had kept to myself for the better part of two years now. I couldn’t get close to any one else again, not when blood still stained my hands.
“Help!” The voice came again, this time louder. It was coming from the tree line North of the house but that was the most I could narrow it down.
I considered going back to sleep, leaving whoever was out there to their own devices. I do not go out on limbs to help others, not when I can’t even help myself. But this forest was dense and rarely trekked by humans. If someone was out there, they wouldn’t be found until it was far too late for them.
I retrieved my massive handheld flashlight from the garage and steeled myself to open the front door into the darkness that was outside. As I did, it seemed to roll in like a fog and threateningly hang over the living room. I stood there in the entryway with the door open, pushing the button on the flashlight.
It illuminated the clearing my cabin was in and the tree trunks around the edge. The light swept back and forth as I analyzed outside but no soul could be found.
“Help me!” It came again and this time with the door open I could hear it properly. It sounded eerily familiar but I could not quite place my finger on it.
“Is any one there?” I yelled once my throat opened up again, realizing the light was moving so much because my hand was shaking.
“Sam?” It came in reply.
The familiarity allowed me to build the courage to step over the threshold of the home and out into the darkness. I took a few steps forward so that I was standing on the very edge of my porch, searching furiously into the places my flashlight brought to light to try and see if there was movement passed the treeline. The LED light hardly penetrated the thick canopy.
“Hello?” I called out into the night, feeling my heart pounding against my rib cage.
The air was still for a few moments before a scream ripped through it. “Help me!” It screeched, the voice getting louder and more familiar. It was strange though, it sounded just slightly off, as if someone was speaking through a tin can. Each time it called out, it was more normal sounding. It was a woman’s voice.
“Where are you?” I yelled back, frantically moving the flashlight along the tree stumps. No sound came back this time.
I looked over my shoulder at the open door to my home, considering going back inside. However, the voice sounded close and these woods could be dangerous at night, filled with predators that might be attracted to the pleas for help. Cursing under my breath I pulled the front door shut and descended the few stairs that led to my front yard. Approaching the tree line, I called out a couple more times but it was a few silent moments before I heard the voice again.
“Sam?” It came from what seemed like just a few feet in front of me. The closeness gave me the courage to enter the forest, the thick leafy branches swallowing up the already dim light of the moon.
“I’m coming, just stay still!” I pushed a few pine branches out of my face, feeling the nettles poke into the soft skin of my palm. The bark was rough as it scratched against my shoulders, barely enough room for me to squeeze in between the trees. “Keep making sound, I’m coming for you!”
“Please, help.” The voice cracked with fear and something close to hopelessness. Even though it had sounded only a few feet away before I entered the forest, it was not getting any closer no matter how many steps I took toward it. The familiarity of it was screaming at me now, like I could picture the person but their face was just slightly blurred beyond recognition.
The pleas continued, never growing louder as I picked my way through the trees. The only explanation was that sound couldn’t carry properly through the thick canopy but something in my brain was telling me to turn around, it was no good here.
After what felt like hours but was a mere five minutes, the voice died away. No matter how many times I called for them, they were not responding any more. I kept walking, kept trying to locate where they could be, but after a few moments passed I shook my head and decided it was time to give up. It was probably stupid kids playing a prank on me.
I had purposefully walked in a straight line, correcting my path every time something got in my way and I had to skirt it. So I turned on my heels and began walking back. The flashlight bounced off the tree stumps and the brush underneath my feet, I could just see movement out of the corner of my eye. Every time I turned the flashlight to focus on it, there was nothing there. Must have been critters.
I walked for about ten minutes and began to wonder why I wasn’t breaking into the clearing that my cabin was located in. I had only walked for that long in the opposite direction and I knew I hadn’t made an incorrect turn. I tried to look above my head to reorient myself with the stars but the tree limbs blocked out any light.
“Fuck.” I muttered under my breath as I kept moving forward. An hour later and I still had not found my house.
I had taken my watch off prior to going to bed so I had no idea what time it was. Judging by the height of the moon when I had left the cabin, it had to have been around 3. Soon the sun would rise and I would probably find it easier to get home.
My legs were exhausted. Despite living in the forest for two years, I didn’t even like hiking. I was not in any shape to spend all night trekking through thick underbrush with no trail. After another thirty minutes of walking, without hearing the voice again, I decided to sit down and rest my legs. I clicked the flashlight off, knowing that I needed to conserve it’s batteries, and sat down at the trunk of a tree. The bark scratched my back through my thick jacket as I leaned back against it.
I felt the same sense of hopelessness the voice had.
I fought sleep but exhaustion eventually rolled over me, despite being horribly uncomfortable sitting on the ground.
Suddenly, I was a kid again. Sitting at the dinner table of my childhood home, my legs kicked the air because they couldn’t reach the ground.
I was shoveling cereal in my mouth, listening to my parents scream at each other despite the fact that it was only 11 AM. Mom had drank a bottle of wine last night and slept in and the school eventually called my Dad to see where I was. Livid, he returned home and yanked the blankets off of her.
From there it escalated until the front door slamming rattled the entire house. Mom collapsed into the chair next to me and dropped her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I frowned and placed my spoon back into the bowl, hopping off the seat and moving to wrap my arms around her.
“You’re all I have now, Sam.” She cried as her shoulders shook.
“Sam.” The voice was back out in the forest this time, causing me to be pulled from my dream and back into the waking world.
Clicking on the flashlight, I scrambled to my feet again. “Hello? Can you hear me?” I called as I spun in circles, shining the light in every direction. There went my perfectly straight line in and out.
“Please help me, Sam.” The voice sobbed from just beyond my sight. I started running in the direction it came from, the vines clutching at my sneakers. My flashlight bounced off the tree trunks wildly.
My foot caught on a rock and I flew forward, the flashlight flying from my hands. It bounced on the forest floor with a loud cracking sound and the light flickered off, leaving me in utter darkness. With a moan of pain I pulled my foot into my body, I had twisted it badly on the rock. This is why I don’t help people, God dammit.
“Sam, please, I need you.” It sounded like it was right in my ear and I spun around, throwing my hands forward but they only fell through the air and onto the ground. Breathing heavily, I closed my eyes.
I was back in that home again, this time in the living room. I had missed school yet again, but now it was middle school. I was taller, but awkwardly skinny. “I just couldn’t do it.” Mom said as she rocked in her rocking chair. “If I took you to school, what am I going to do all day? Sit here by myself? I just can’t any more.” Tears streamed down her face but these days, tears were always streaming down her face.
I opened my eyes again, knowing I hadn’t fallen asleep that time. Was I losing my mind?
Breathing heavily I tried to get to my feet but the pain in my ankle made me wince and collapse against the tree next to me. “Where are you?” I screamed into the darkness, feeling anger rising in my chest. Who was messing with me?
“I’m here! Please come find me.” It begged, and the voice was morphing into my mother’s from the dream. It was still slightly off, like I was talking to her on the phone.
“This isn’t fucking funny.” I tilted my head to look at the sky. How was it still dark? The sun usually rose around five in the morning and it felt like I had been here for hours.
Limping forward awkwardly and using the trees to aid my gate, I continued toward the sound of the voice. At least if I found it, two people lost in the forest was better than one.
I walked for a long time, making slow progress and feeling the pain shoot up my shin with every step. The voice kept pleading but I could never get to the source. It was like they were walking away from me, deeper and deeper into the forest.
I cursed myself over and over for being so stupid. I should’ve stayed in bed.
I couldn’t make it any further. I hit my ankle again on a large rock and I wondered if it was broken because the pain was unbearable. I sat down on the forest floor again, leaning back against the rock and looking up into the black sea above my head. “If you’re up there, God, I could really use a solid.”
I waited a few moments, knowing I wouldn’t hear anything back. Why would God help me? What had I done in my life to earn any kind of good karma from him?
This time, I willingly thought of Mom. My heart ached for her touch right now, wishing she would grab my hand and lead me out of the forest.
I remembered the days we spent together. She never again had a boyfriend after my father walked out and we never heard from him. No calls or letters. Her drinking got worse, partnered with the capsules in the little orange bottles she kept. It was never the pills the doctors told her to take, however. She got meaner and pettier, often criticizing my every movement.
One time in particular, we got into a bad fight. I rarely let this happen, giving in every time she got angry with me in the hopes that we could avoid further conflict. I never wanted to fight with her, I loved her with everything I had in me.
But I was in high school now and I wanted to live a normal life. I still missed a lot of school because of her but it was easier to take myself there now that I could drive. And I liked school. I liked interacting with kids my own age instead of just my mother day in and day out.
“It’s a movie for Christ’s sake! I’ll be gone for like two whole hours.” I said as I tied my sneakers on the couch.
“Just stay here and we’ll watch a movie!” She said as she stood in front of me, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. I almost gave in because of that, but I needed to hold my ground.
“Mom, this movie is not going to be on TV. Besides, I want to hang out with my friends. I never hang out with them. They’re not going to keep being my friends if I never do things with them.” And I so desperately wanted friends.
“No, no, no, no,” she mumbled as she shook her head, dropping onto the floor in front of me on her knees so she could be at eye level. “Please, baby boy, just stay here. I can’t be alone in this house. The voices are so loud.” The tears were now freely streaming down her cheeks.
“Mom, come on. I have to live a normal life.” She put her hands on my knees as if to hold me down but I stood with ease. This caused her to fall back on the floor and began to flail her feet and arms wildly.
“Sam, please, please, please,” she kept sobbing over and over again as she rolled around. I watched her, standing just by the front door. I should stay, she needed me. But I knew Heather was going to this movie and I had been dying to talk to her outside of school for so long.
I put my hand on the front door. “I love you, Mom. I will be home soon.”
That elicited a heartbroken wail from her and her hands entangled in her hair, pulling it out in clumps and leaving a bloody mess behind on her scalp. She only got a few fistfuls out before I dropped to the floor next to her and wrapped her in a hug, subduing her so she couldn’t reach her head again.
“I’ll stay! I’ll stay!” I yelled into her dazed face until she finally stopped struggling and her ragged breathing slowed a bit. “I’m sorry.” I said, feeling the warmth of tears on my own face now. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Coming back to the moment, I shook my head to attempt to dislodge the memory. It was one I visited frequently, both in my dreams and in the waking world. My heart ached everytime I pictured her ripping out her mousy brown hair. It was why I ended up moving out to the forest, so I didn’t have to drive by my childhood home every day on my way to work and relive it all. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see the home to remember what happened inside of it’s walls.
“Please, Sam, stay here. With me.” The voice came again from the trees, reaching out to me with ice cold fingers and sending a chill down my spine.
There was no denying it was my mothers voice. But how? I had heard it even deep in my sleep, before these memories hit me. Then again, the voice had only sounded slightly familiar then. The deeper into the woods I got, the more realistic it became and eventually morphed into my mother’s voice.
Replaying it in my head, the voice hadn’t sounded human when I left the cabin. It sounded like a creature imitating a human. Why had I so blindly stumbled into the trees then? Was I still trying to make up for what I had done, not helping Mom then?
I saw the scene like I was there. It was a couple of years after the hair pulling incident, and I had finally, finally asked a girl out. I’d never gone on a date before, knowing Mom probably couldn’t handle the thought of another woman replacing her. But friends often encouraged me to stand up to Mom. And I was aching for the love of another human, one that was less toxic than the love Mom gave me. She still drank at all hours of the day, washing down pills with whiskey. She still watched my every move and found something to insult. It was exhausting, feeling like I could never really do anything right. Tonight, I could go out with a girl and not think about these things.
Of course, telling Mom didn’t go over well. She yelled and sobbed. Tried to pull me back into the house, scratched at her arms and pulled on her hair again. But I wasn’t having it this time. In fact, her pathetic actions only filled me with rage. I stormed out and slammed the door.
Returning a few hours later, the house seemed relatively undisturbed. Mom was always crying out for attention but I hoped that she started taking me more seriously now that I had strengthened my resolve to have a life outside of this home.
Entering the front door, I dropped my keys in the bowl. “Mom?” I called into the house, not seeing her in her rocking chair. Her glass was there, empty. That was unusual.
“Mom?” I called again, entering the kitchen. What I saw there froze me in place.
She was slumped down against the cupboards on the floor with bright red blood pooling around her, congealing and turning burgundy. Her sleeves were rolled up and two long gashes ran vertically down each arm. The blood stained knife had fallen out of her hand onto the ground and her eyes stared into nothingness.
“Mom!” I screamed as I dropped down next to her, my jeans soaking up the blood that had not yet hardened. I knew enough about blood to know that it congealing meant it had been outside of her body for a while. I touched her cheek but it was cold.
911 arrived but didn’t even attempt CPR, taking her body away on a tarp covered stretcher. No one tells you that you have to clean up your loved ones blood after everything was said and done.
I moved out of that godforsaken house but the memory haunted me on every street corner of that town. Which is why I moved out to the woods to try and forget. But the image of her soulless eyes, her blood stained clothes, it never left me.
“Come back to me, Sam.” The voice said from directly in front of me. I felt the presence of someone right there. I awkwardly struggled to my feet.
“I’m here,” I said in a whisper, knowing I didn’t have to yell any more. “I won’t leave you again.”
My limbs never moved again from that place. My feet grew roots into the forest floor, my skin turning brown and scratchy. My arms grew branches, and those branches grew branches that grew leaves.
I watched as the sun rose right after that, realizing that I had only been ten feet away from the cabin clearing.
And I still stay here to this day, forever watching life pass me by. My cabin grew dust, until someone else ca
me and lived inside of it. And I listened as the voice rang out again, calling for help.
One night, it must have grown loud enough for him to hear because he came out onto the porch, shining a flashlight into the trees just as I had years before. I watched as he entered the forest, following the voice that called out to him. He passed me by, and I couldn’t even open my mouth to tell him not to come into the forest.
I’m only allowed tell you this story because the forest wants you, too.