It’s late. The sun has set long ago. The lights in the house are off, save for the one beside me. I’m sitting in a giant, fluffy gray bean bag by the window reading a book in my room when I get that gut feeling. It doesn’t say to run or to be afraid, only to look up, so I do. And when I do, I see it; that white silhouette across the lake standing on the edge of the treeline. When I blink it’s still there, seeming to watch the house like a silent protector.

Without any thought, I’m on my feet and barreling down the steps. Once on the patio I see that I wasn’t caught in time. The white silhouette remains, but has finally taken notice of my movements. They’re now moving quickly into the woods, but it’s too late. I know this isn’t a hallucination. It’s real, it was there before, it’s here now!

The grass is wet against my bare feet. It’s cold even with the humidity in the air. I no longer see the silhouette by the time I reach the other side of the lake. I’m breathing heavy, staring into the darkness of the woods where it fled. The only light comes from that of the moon and the stars, casting a soft glow over the top of the trees. There’s no way I can follow further, especially since I didn’t even grab my phone, and the news is rather telling of how dangerous the woods can be.

Owls call in the night, a few crickets too. The fireflies are dancing over the lake. There’s no sign of...whatever that was, but I know I saw it, which means I really did see it before.

There’s something out there.

Forest Folk?

No way, right? They’re childish stories created in a small town that happens to live in a place that feels magical. There aren't actually...magical beings in the forest, right? Yet I question about ghosts or ghouls, your logic is astounding, Winnie!

Who knows how long I stand there pondering that very question. Long enough for my toes to grow numb. Slowly, I return to the house, continuously peering over my shoulder at the very spot I saw the apparition. I stare at the painting I made. My eyes widen when I run my fingers over the canvas.

The silhouette is smaller. The one I drew from my dreams, it was smaller in height and stature. The one I saw tonight, the one I’ve been seeing lately, is much taller, but it’s that same light.

Fuck, what am I thinking? What am I doing here? This is absolutely crazy. Shouldn’t I be leaving? My grandparents were killed here and now I find out someone, or rather, something is watching the house. Something that has to have been here before because I remember it! Then there’s the voices, something calling my name, and that stupid tune that’s growing even louder now.

Then I remember; “You’re bewitched.”

No way. I’m not talking to the crazy village lady. Just because she said I was bewitched and now that’s starting to make sense doesn’t mean she has any answers. I bet she’s another con artist trying to spook tourists.

No. It’s not happening. I’m not going. I refuse…

But I end up going the next day anyways.

There’s a house by the Forest Folk cabin that screams village crazy lady. The place is a small shack with too many windchimes and enough plants to make the house nearly invisible. Hummingbirds are fluttering about the bird feeders and there’s a frog sitting in the small pond she has outside. The porch creaks when I step onto it. The house isn’t painted a single color, rather there are flowers and vines and fairies painted all over.

That’s it, I’m turning around.

But when I do I find myself face to face with the crazy lady herself. She’s in similar clothes as the last time we met, but she’s holding a brown paper bag with a long piece of bread sticking out. In the other hand she has a green fabric bag, it seems she just got back from shopping.

Grinning from ear to ear, she says almost proudly, “You lasted longer than I thought.”

I don’t respond to that.

“Come on in. I’m sure we have a lot to discuss.”

She brushes past me to head inside. Groaning, I peer behind me, wondering if it’s best to leave. My car is parked alongside the road. I could get there before she makes it back to the door. Remembering last night, and even this morning when I got up and heard the woods again, I realize that I really do have a lot to talk about. This lady might be my best bet. Besides, if she’s honestly crazy I’ll just leave.

With a deep breath, I step over the threshold with absolutely no idea where to begin.