For my 5th birthday my mom had bought me a pair of walkie talkies, most likely because of my infatuation with cop shows and the things they used. Since, despite my pleading to do so, she wouldn’t buy me a pistol the walkies were an appropriate substitute. Me, being a kid, decided that it would be a good idea to leave one of the walkies a few feet into the tree line behind my house. I did this in the hopes that a woodland fairy would find it and use it to talk to me, my logic being that they wanted to talk to humans but couldn’t show themselves because of fairy rules. So with that in mind I ventured outside and wandered a bit into the dense forest behind my house and placed the walkie on a rock and went back inside to eat lunch.
The next day I was sitting at my desk coloring when, much to my excitement, I heard radio static come from the walkie talkie sitting on my desk. A moment later I heard a voice speak, “He’s coming.” The voice said, “call for help.” After that an odd slicing sound was heard, I assumed that the fairy that spoke to me needed help with some magic and thought I was another fairy. Not wanting to leave the fairy waiting I spoke into the walkie talkie saying in my little kid voice “sorry I don’t know magic miss fairy” then eagerly awaited a response. None was heard.
A few days past and I heard the walkie talkie announce its usage with more harsh radio static. This time a voice spoke in a hushed tone, “hello? Is anyone there.” “I’m here” I answered back “are you a fairy?” “No. . . I’m someone who helps fairy’s.” A moment of silence passes, “do me a favor and tell any fairy’s that ask you for help to go to the clearing a mile in. . . that’s where I’ll be, waiting to help them.” “Okay I can do that” I responded innocently.
It happened again. . . three more times exactly. I’d be on my own when the radio cut in with someone asking for help and I’d do as I was told and informed them of where they could find help as it was just near by. After that, much to my disappointment, the radio never spurred to life in the middle of my daily activities ever again. Even more disappointing we moved shortly after, weirdly enough as we drove to my new house a few hours away, I saw something in my mom’s eyes that even at young age I noticed. A more accurate description would be that I didn’t see anything, her eyes looked entirely lifeless. The only time they didn’t is when I would ask her why we had to leave our home, only then would they turn to that of sheer terror.
. . .
My boyfriend called me into the living room, I was very annoyed because I was in the middle of unpacking and we needed to get moved into our dorm before the new semester started. “What?” I asked when I reluctantly went into the living room. “Didn’t you live in Fairfield?” He asked seemingly out of nowhere, “Yeah when I was like five, why?” He didn’t answer and just gestured to the TV which was set to the news, my eyes immediately hyper focused on it as I saw a picture of my old house with the title under it reading “12th Anniversary of the Tree Line Murders” with 4 pictures, each of different women right by it’s side.