The creaking of the poor wooden flooring made me anxious, but I had no choice. With almost no money left from my lifelong savings, I had to move away from the big city to a more humble and discreet residence: an isolated house inside a small village.
I had made some wrong decisions, and now I was paying the price. If I wanted to be able to survive, I would have to struggle, even if it was only for a bit. I was lucky I found this old house; it was a lot better than having to sleep inside the car.
However, I must admit that the folks around here were not very welcoming; I was given “the looks” once I got closer and closer to the path to my new property. Even the guy who sold me the house was very apologetic, but I don’t blame him at all. The house was way too cheap for its size, regardless of the deteriorated state; it should have been much more expensive. It had a small kitchen, a large hall, a dining room, two bedrooms, and a very eccentric-looking living room, full of hunting trophies on every wall. It must have been a hunter’s house before. Well, not anymore.
After spending some time fixing the lights and moving the few boxes I had, it was now a place I could finally call “Home.” The sun was starting to go down, and I was very tired. Running away is never easy, after all. But that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. I was alone - for once - and I felt free. That’s all I needed.
I turned the lights off and went to the slightly bigger bedroom. It had a sizable wardrobe and a wooden chest full of old rags and ripped pieces of cloth. The bed was small but comfortable. Comfortable enough for my tired body to succumb to.
As my eyes became glued to the rest of my face and my arms and legs became attached to the comfort of the bed, I felt… something. For a moment, I was sleeping, and in the next, I was completely aware of my surroundings. I could see it all, without really seeing anything. My eyes remained shut, and even then, they could see more than if I was fully awake. My body was asleep, but not my brain. My innocent brain thought it was just paranoia. I knew they wouldn’t catch me. Not here. And yet… I couldn’t sleep.
I tried to wake up, but I couldn’t. Sleep paralysis, maybe? No, I was just starting to move my arms around. They were in pain. Something was hurting them but wasn’t strong enough to move them more than me. I was starting to feel afraid, desperate. The images of large oak trees started to get mixed with my thoughts and memories. The trees were calling my name. What the hell was all of this?
I started fighting back. Really fighting back. I struggled, but I was still stronger. As my arms began to rise, I was once again in control of my body. Finally, I managed to open my eyes. The voices slowly faded away, as if it was nothing more than a sick fever dream. I wasn’t crazy; I knew something happened, but I couldn’t fully understand it. I examined my arms; they were completely bruised and marked with spike wounds, proving my experience wasn’t just me being delusional. Something was up with the bed, maybe even the house, and it was up to me to find that out. I couldn’t simply walk away after this. Not again. Not this time.
I dragged the bed to the side of the bedroom, and the voices began to speak once again. Now they became louder and louder as time went by. The trees were calling me a coward. I was very awake, and my eyes were wide open. I knew I wasn’t just dreaming. As I finally managed to completely take the bed out of the way, I started removing the wooden flooring until I could see the trees. Until I could finally know what the hell they wanted from me. To my surprise, there were no trees whatsoever, but chunky and moving roots. They were everywhere. I spent the next hour removing the floor of the bedroom, and right after that, the flooring of the rest of the house. The roots began to move faster and faster until I couldn’t control them anymore. They were slowly starting to become the house. They were slowly starting to become - ME.