There was once a time in my childhood where I’d hike the woods near my home. My mother always advised against it- saying that it
wasn’t safe to go there, especially when you’re only 12. But I never listened, and as I look back on it I felt she spoke from
experience when she gave me these warnings.

I’d travel the woods on the weekends, early on Saturday mornings whilst my family slept, or any normal child sat fluffed against the
couch cushions with a bowl of cereal in their lap and spoon in hand. I’d put on my favorite jacket, my boots and jeans, and sneak
out through the sliding glass door, leaving it unlocked. I’d leave just to walk the hill along a sunrise that seemed to stand on
tiptoes, peeking over the mountains.

It was one particular weekend, when there was a morning fog, especially thick. It was still light, so I went. However, after
venturing into the woods I fell into a pocket of darkness. But after walking a period of time in these shadows, I began to notice
the faintest illuminations outlining everything—the trees, the shrubs and flowes, stones and other nonsensical things. It was then I
slowly approached a tree that stood in my path.

If I had not looked for more than a second at the tree I wouldn’t notice it, but I saw a shifting of colors, much like opal. I paused
and looked closer, but noticed the shifting of color was of its own accord; and that some unrecognizable designs waivered along the
surface of the tree.

I approached, and felt watched. Not by an animal, or by a person, but a presence so alien I couldn’t place whether it could be good
or bad. I could picture dull, pupiless eyes boring into me, but couldn’t see them with mine eyes. I got so frightened I left, running
jaggedly and rasping with breath all the way back to my house, the whole time feeling… well, not necessarily chased by the presence; it felt as if the strange being was running along side of me, eyes permanently focused on me. My stomach twisted.
After I broke free of the forest I felt the presence no longer by my side, I ran up the stairs of the house and into the house,
shaking and wide-eyed as my mother ran to me. She comforted me, she didn’t yell at me for my blatant disobedience or cried at the
idea that her son might’ve gotten hurt, just hugged me and supported the back of my head with her hand before whispering into my ear
“And that is why you don’t go into the forest anymore, Roruk. That is why.”

This time, I listened to her. I never went back since, but sometimes, I could feel the pupiless eyes watching me from the shade of
trees whenever I was within the forest’s sight.