Stories

I open my eyes, blinking in the sunlight coming through the crack in the blinds. I feel warm and safe under my blankets. The pressure feels nice. Outside my window, the cicadas are buzzing loudly. Didn't somebody say something about getting twice as many cicadas this year? Sounds like they were right. I can't honestly say the noise bothers me, though.

I shove my pile of blankets off and turn on my lamp. The regular light in my room is too bright for me, and it hurts my head. Lately, it's been making my ears ring and my vision swirl as well. I've been wearing these really dark sunglasses to try to make them easier. Luckily, they compliment my outfits pretty nicely, so it's not a big deal.

Speaking of which, time to pick out an outfit for the day. I think I'll go with my green shirt and those jeans I got from Goodwill back in June. Add some accessories, and we're all set. Nice.

I sit down at my desk and boot up my computer. Opening my email, I'm greeted by a message from my friend Alex. She says there's supposed to be a meetup by the lake in the woods tonight, and wants me to go. Knowing Alex, this is probably a party. I'm already typing a denial response, until I stop. Why don't I want to go? I'm not unpopular; everybody likes me a decent amount, and it's not like I'd pass on a chance to hang out with Alex in the woods. We don't have school tomorrow or anything, either. Oh, what the hell, why not? I tell Alex I'll be there by nine tonight.

I scoot my chair back from the computer, and then I notice the dirt caked under my nails. I'm by no means a clean freak, but I think I'd remember if I stuck my hands in a pile of dirt. While I use a pin to get rid of it, I try to remember if I did anything yesterday that would've caused my hands to get so gross. Nothing. Honestly, it's probably just sweat or something. I leave my room and head to wash my hands in the bathroom. While I'm there, I take a look at my face in the mirror.

There's no blood in my face, and my eyes are swollen and dark, like somebody punched my lights out. I look diseased. There's a cut on my forehead too, though thankfully it doesn't look too deep. A thin layer of dried blood coats the surrounded area, frozen drips marking a pattern down my face. What the hell did I do while I was asleep? Did I try to scratch my face and mess it up somehow? I wash the cut and put a cute bandage over it, praying it isn't infected by whatever weird dirt was under my nails.

I might as well grab breakfast while I'm out of my room. When I walk into the kitchen, my cat brushes against my leg. I pour some food in her bowl, then grab a juice box and some orange slices from the fridge. I should probably go to the doctor soon; I haven't really been able to get myself to eat anything other than fruit. It just hasn't been appetising. My blood sugar isn't messed up or anything, and I haven't gotten sick. In fact, it's probably the best I've felt in a while. Only needing one type of food makes making sure I eat enough a lot easier. Still, it's probably not normal.

I bring my food back up to my room and get back on the computer, flipping between scrolling Tumblr and playing online games. There've been some weird things circulating on the news side of the internet, something about a weird new disease, Gravedigger's Fever. No reported cases over here though, and I'm honestly not even sure it's real. Probably a new creepypasta or something of the sort.

Soon enough, it's 8:30, and I should start walking to the woods. It's a 3 minute drive from my house, so I should arrive at nine like I wanted, as I definitely don't walk as fast as a car can drive. I grab my bag and head out, leaving a note for my mom on the fridge before I go. The path isn't too difficult to walk, as long as you have decent shoes. The first half of it is even made of sidewalk, so you can find your way back pretty easily. Granted, the forest part of the path can be difficult to navigate for some, though I can't say I've ever had a problem with it.

When I get to the party, it's already decently crowded. I spot Alex's bright crimson hair almost immediately and stride over to her in a way I hope looks cool.

"Yooo, Ranette, ya finally showed up! We got drinks and stuff over there," she points, "and Greg's almost done gettin' the music set. So how ya been? I know I literally emailed you yesterday, but, y'know."

"Yeah, no, I've been... decent. Nothing awful. You?"

Alex runs her hand through her bangs. "I've been... decent," she says, and we laugh. "Got a lot going on on Mom's farm, but then again, when isn't there? The plants are all growing fine, as are the goats, which, Daisy misses you, FYI, you have to come visit again soon or I swear her heart will break."

"Alright, alright, we can shoot for next weekend. Sound good?"

"I'll arrange it with Mom," she says, and lightly bumps me with her shoulder. There's a pause. Not an uncomfortable one, just a pause. The musics starts up, a party classic with loud bass that ripples through the ground.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink, you want anything?" I ask her.

"Grab me a Rock and Rye, would ya?"

"As you wish," I quip, and make my way to the drinks table.

The table isn't crowded, so I take my time looking over all of the options. Something flashing in the treeline catches my eye, and I look up. There's a long, glowing string approaching me. It gets closer, and I look around to see if anyone else notices it, but they don't seem to be any the wiser. The string reaches up to the cut on my forehead. It slides under the bandage, and into my skull. It burns like a migraine, and swirling and flashing patterns cloud my vision. I try to touch it, to pull it out of my head, but my hand clasps around nothing. The music drowns out everything, the pounding bass reverberating through my bones. Just when I feel like my head is going to split open, everything stops. The pain is gone, the hallucinations are gone, the music is normal. Except, the string is now embedded in my skull, and something is pulling on the other end. I have no choice but to walk towards it as something pulled me past the treeline, deeper into the woods.

The further I get from the party, the sharper my surroundings seem to get. I can hear every noise of the forest, feel every individual tendril of mycelium and fungus, sense every living thing from the deer to the ants. The life that fills the forest thrums through me like a second heartbeat. The further I walk, the stronger I feel, the more alive I feel. Whatever's pulling me, I don't think I'm upset about it.

Eventually, I reach a clearing. The ground is soft beneath my feet, and I know exactly where I would need to place my hands to dig a hole large enough to fit me. The other end of the string leads down, down into the earth, under the base of a large tree. Behind me, I hear slow footsteps. I know it's Alex. She's been following me for a few minutes now. The string gently disconnects from my forehead, and I turn to face her.

Even from where she stands, a taproot's length away from me, I can still sense her apprehension, her confusion, her unease, her fear. I might have felt worse about scaring like this her once. Now it is just more buzzing in the symphony of feelings that weave through me, the sounds of every individual life in the forest humming along like the song of a cicada.

She speaks. "What're ya doing all the way out here, dude? Did you find something?"

I certainly found something, although it found me first. I open my mouth to tell her as such, but the only noise that comes out is the forest. She takes a step back, and I turn back to where the string disappeared.

It's giving me a choice. I know what the right answer is, but I also know which answer would feel incredible, which answer would stay with me until the end of time, pumping the power and life of the forest through my veins where my blood would have been.

I know which answer will make me eternal.

I fall to the ground and begin to dig, shoveling soil and rocks and decaying organic matter aside with a speed I couldn't have even dreamed about mere minutes ago. At some point, Alex grabs my shoulder, tries to pull me out of the hole, but it is of no avail, and pressure wraps around my ribcage before disappearing with rapid footsteps, and I am left alone with tiny droplets of water on the back of my neck. Tears, I think.

I dig, and I dig, and I dig. I do not pause once. The soil is pressing against my back, urging me forward and downward. I dig until I reach a point where suddenly the area is lit up with the glow of the string. I curl up inside of it, and allow the earth to overtake me. I am comfortable at last, and I can finally rest.