“You can’t just make the house your home. Whisper Woods as a whole needs to be your home. You need to feel comfortable here and the best way to do that is to get out, even if you’re just going for a leisurely walk through town.”

Dr. Driscall snaps her fingers like she has remembered something. I watch curiously when she gets up to dig around in her desk. She’s grinning when she pulls out a pamphlet and hands it to me. I nearly smack myself in the face at what it says.

“Whisper Woods Tours! Come and explore the magic of Whisper Woods, home to the Forest Folk…” and I stop reading after that. When I look up to my so-called therapist it’s obvious that I’m not pleased with her suggestion.

She giggles. “It’s our town’s local legend. Your grandparents must have told you about them! There are tours, shops, even tourists. The wagon ride is actually incredibly beautiful.”

“You want me to sit through a tourist attraction talking about some forest fairies?”

“Forest Folk.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Fairies are small and have wings.”

I let out a long groan. “The fact that you had an immediate answer infuriates me.”

“It’s only a suggestion!” Dr. Driscall laughs, taking back her seat and brushing the ponytail from her shoulder. She’s leaning back, smiling at me while I sink into the couch like melted ice cream. “Is there a reason you don’t want to meet up with anyone? You must be lonely there. Whisper Woods is already isolated, but your home, the nearest neighbor is a mile away.”

“I know, it’s amazing.”

That earns me another laugh from her.

Sighing, I push myself to sit up properly, flipping the pamphlet over and over in my hand. Pictures of the forest litter every inch of the paper and, honestly, it is extraordinarily beautiful. My memories never did Whisper Woods any justice. The land here is right off a protected forest reserve. The brush is so thick in some areas it doesn’t even seem like it’s traversable for animals let alone people. Makes one feel like they’re on another planet.

“Honestly, I’m worried what others will say. Everyone seems to believe it’s a terrible idea for me to be living there. I keep thinking that people are going to see me as crazy or sick or—I don’t really know,” I grumble beneath my breath. I’ve been thinking about it since the moment Mom stared at me like I went mad or how my friends hesitated to respond when I told them of my plans.

“I understand, Edwin, but this is ultimately your decision. If it’s what you need then so be it. Some may feel that way, others will not. I suppose you’ll be able to tell real quick which people you want to keep around.”

“True.” I look up to the clock, finding our session is almost over. Dr. Driscall does as well then looks at me with a warm smile. I’m already standing up, thanking her for the session while promising to go out and do something. I’m not sure what yet, but I do end up bringing the pamphlet with me.

The damn thing is sitting on my passenger seat now. It sticks out like a sore thumb against the black leather. I glare at it for a moment, remembering how the mention of Forest Folk used to bring me such childish joy. My grandparents always told me stories, every night before bed they talked about this “local legend.”

“Forest Folk protect the forest and the flowers and the rivers and you and me,” Nana always said when tucking me in. She’d sit on the edge of the bed wearing a fuzzy purple robe and beaming smile.

“How can they protect us if we never see them?” I once asked, eyes filled with wonder.

“Just because you cannot see them doesn’t mean they aren’t watching over you.” Nana pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Just like when you aren’t here with us, we’re still with you.”

Yeah, as a kid, I loved such words; thinking that these magical beings of an ancient past were traversing the forests. But the belief in Forest Folk died with my grandparents. Guess I’m still a little bitter about it.

I toss the pamphlet into the backseat to be forgotten about minutes later. The drive home is longer than most would probably think, almost 20 minutes, that’s how isolated the house is. When Pap and Nana got the money to buy land and build a house they certainly picked the most remote and beautiful location they could find. Even after being here for two weeks I can’t get over the beauty.

The way the tree’s line the road on either side, bending towards it to create a tunnel. Sunlight trickles in from above in soft rays that criss cross over old tar. There’s always a coolness to the air so my windows are down. The scent is that of wild flowers and pine. The roads are windy, curved and unruly, as if carved out by a roaring river. My driveway would be missed if not for the bright blue mailbox perched at the end of the entrance. The house isn’t even visible from the road because of all the tree’s, but once it opens up it’s like the house is placed in it’s own special circle.

A two story building with a full wrap around porch. The high pointed roof is a soft green, same as the trees, and the wood a warm brown. Once there was a garden in front, flowers entangled up the wooden beams to the awning. Unfortunately, I do not share my Nana’s green thumb, but I’ve bought some hanging potted plants and a few bird feeders so it’s better than nothing.

I smile when stepping out of the car, peering into the many windows that line the sides. No use not having windows if you came here for the view, that’s what Pap always said. Before I go inside I glare at that stupid knocker. I have to head into town again soon to get some groceries. I’ll replace that damn thing. It’s hideous, and doesn't match the house at all. Besides, I can actually paint it well now. Nana and Pap would be proud.

Not even an hour later, when I’m trying to whip up a meal for myself, my phone goes off. I know who it is before I even answer, smiling while I put it on speaker.