Tonight it feels feral.
Untamed.
Exactly where I want to be.
I step into the trees, branches clawing at my arms, cold air ripping through my lungs. My breath fogs in front of me, furious, sharp.
I don’t slow.
I walk deeper.
And deeper.
Until the house is gone behind the tree line and all I hear is my own pulse and the wind pushing through the branches like whispers.
Then—I stop.
My fists clench at my sides.
“COME OUT!”
The scream rips out of me so loud birds scatter from branches.
My voice echoes between the trees.
I drag in another breath—the kind that tears.
“COME OUT, YOU FUCKING COWARD!”
Nothing.
Only the rustle of leaves.
The hiss of winter wind.
The hum of a world that pretends nothing is wrong.
I step forward like I’m ready to fight the shadows.
“You want to watch me?” My voice breaks, louder, hotter. “You want to stalk me? Break into my bedroom? Leave your fucking riddles?”
I spin in a slow circle, scanning the tree line, chest heaving.
“Then SHOW YOURSELF!”
Silence.
Not empty—charged.
Like the forest is holding a secret.
Like the trees know he’s near.
Like the world itself is listening.
I take another step.
“You’re always right there, aren’t you?” I spit the words like venom. “Right behind me. Right in the dark. Right in my fucking head!”
