The Warmth

I present to you, a short story with paranormal occurrences and a partial mystery. enjoy!

It’s so warm out. Or maybe I’m just warm. It’s almost discomforting at times when the warmth becomes too much and too overwhelming. It’s not a scorching heat, although that’s quite horrible as well, but more of a tense and bothersome heat that slowly seems to take over the mind.

I take walks in the forest to soothe this. Well, this and my mind. The air is cool and crisp, and all my mind tends to focus on is the barely visible path and the crunching of leaves. I enjoy the sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting, even the way frogs croak to themselves in sleep. It’s soothing. I’ve been doing this since I was a child, so why stop now?

My favorite part is the walk to the lake. I discovered a path, oh when I was around twelve or so. A long path that shortened over time, leading me cautiously through a dark forest to the shimmering lake. I was convinced no one else in this small town knew about it; and I was pretty much right. It was unknown of. The perfect safe haven for a teenager..and an adult.

It’s difficult for me to even present myself as an adult right now. It feels like not that long ago I was graduating high school. Now, I’m packing for an out of town college. There’s a lot about this town that I won’t miss, but the lake is not one of those. The forest is not either.

It’s a warm, Saturday night, and the moon shines over my path, guiding me as it has for all my life. Summer was on the horizon but tonight was one of the hotter nights. I regretted wearing this heavy jacket and jeans — I was starting to work a sweat. Almost unbearable.

I didn’t let the warmth confuse me or irritate me. Who knew how long I had left in this town, to walk on this path? Oh, to be a child again, mindlessly strolling a forest. Children weren’t fond of it, no. Thought it was creepy and eerie. But I found such reassurance in the forest. A sense of nature and life that grew onto me like moss to a tree.

Branches shivered and tapped one another, murmuring amongst themselves. I grew up wondering what they spoke of, but I could never pinpoint it. Secrets, perhaps?

I rub my eyes but not out of drowsiness, out of blindness. I knew I was getting older but it was surprisingly quick. My vision was already taking a toll on me. I could see about two and a half yards away but that’s about it. The rest of my world was of blurry pictures and recordings, moving by all too quickly to focus. Yet, I still felt safe in these forests. The trees, the dirt, the Earth; it raised me. How could I fear it? 

——

Deciding to visit my lake as I usually did, I strolled down the path. This path was odder, with more turns and twists than the rest. I knew each tree, how they looked and felt. They were my breadcrumbs back home, and no bird could eat them alive if they even wanted to.

The lake was a second home. A beautifully blue scene in the morning to a hauntingly black sea of darkness, brightened only by the moonlight. Thinking about it made my heart full with comfort, as if the lake was family. Just as the forest was my home.

But as I eased closer to the lake, I heard the screeching of tires not too far ahead. A car, lashing through the woods. There was a path for the cars but no one had ever used it..who could this be, especially in the middle of the night?

I quickened my pace to the lake, trying to look past the trees but it was no use. They weren’t thin or easy; they were bushy and tall, as giants were.

As I approached closer, headlights flashed from the other side of the lake — white, bright lights that shined only for a moment through the trees before turning off. I froze in place, my heart hammering in my chest. From the other side of the lake, I heard commotion but it was too far to hear what was being said. I heard cursing and angry yelling by two men. Two men, right? Only them…

I duck, camouflaged by trees and hurrying down the path to see what was going on. I hold my breath and it gets hotter, the warmth covered by nervous sweat and heat. I finally get to the edge of the trees, where the path would turn center and reveal the entire lake. I hid behind the trees, looking at what was going on. Nothing about this seemed right or safe. It was all sketchy and terrific.

Oh, this vision of mine! I force my eyes to make out whatever it was across from the lake. I do see those two men, their car parked messily next to the lake. It was dark and they were surrounded by the black shade of the trees, illuminated by moonlight.

I noticed one of them wearing a red and white bomber jacket…was that really…Patrick Johnathan? He was in the same year as me in high school. The other guy must be his best pal, Thomas Lambert, although I couldn’t be sure. Maybe I was going about this all wrong. They’re probably just drunk or high off of..something. 

Right when I think it best to turn around and go home before starting commotion, I see Patrick open the trunk. Thomas (or who I believe is Thomas), seems to double over and try to cover his mouth. The two curse and yell, yet I can’t hear exactly what about.

I’m frozen in place as I watch Patrick struggle, carrying a black bag the size of a human body, out of the trunk of his small, fancy car. He drops it to the floor and I hold my breath; I couldn’t believe what was happening.

Thomas shoves Patrick and Patrick shoves him back. The two yell…This is such bullshit! You don’t tell me what to do!- I’m not dumping that god damn bitch into the lake! 

I felt a lump form in my throat as my disbelieving thoughts slowly take over my rational ones. The rational became disbelieving and I could only watch it all unravel at once as Thomas throws the bag into the lake. There’s a splash, and as quick as I saw it, the quicker it disappeared, sinking into the lake.

My legs trembled and I hadn’t even realized I was more visible than anticipated. Panic is clear in their voices as they jump in the car and slam the doors shut. Before I could even think to move, the headlights turn on and shine right on me, revealing my presence. 

My eyes widen and a sudden anxiety mixed adrenaline claws at my heart and lungs. The car starts to move, going down the path to my direction and that’s when I realized I needed to run.

With my mind racing fast and my legs faster, I run down the path, or what I could make out of it. Suddenly, it felt like the moon wasn’t there to guide me. The branches and leaves’ whispers turned into shrieks, yelling the same damn thing: She knows the secret! She knows our secret! She knows!

The forest became blurrier than my vision and darker than the lake, the lake that held that body. 

——

Two days earlier…

Nineteen year old, Brenda Carter, has gone missing with no evidence leading to this disappearance. Officials are looking into the case but cannot find any leading suspects. Family and friends are worried, last seeing her when she had gone to the drugstore alone, Wednesday night. If you have any information on where she had gone, contact officials immediately.

——

The memory hit me like a truck. Brenda was dating Patrick. Did he kill her? He must have. I just know he killed her. I just know that was Patrick and that was Thomas.

The heat spiraled into a cold sweat and I felt hot tears running down my face. Every tree looked the same and the dirt path was gone. The stones, the tree stumps, the leaves, EVERYTHING was gone. I felt like I was going in circles with nothing changing. The eyes of the forest were all on me, and they all seemed to laugh at my fear. My heart sank as soon as I heard tires shrieking in the distance. I could feel the headlights on me, searching for me.

I kept running, although I had no idea where. I forgot the path and was climbing over whatever stone or stump I had to, swinging by every tree and getting splinters across my arms. The car was following me, separated by trees but ready for me when they weren’t. I was shaking, my legs about to give out from fear and the running.

A car door slams and I nearly start screaming. I’m panting, my running turning into a jog as I fail to keep my pace. I hear the rushing of steps behind me and I feel so close to home..but my vision, completely blurred from tears and adrenaline, makes me miss a medium sized stone, halfway buried into the soil. I trip over it and scrape holes into my jeans. My body falls harshly onto the floor while my palms dig into the dirt, collecting cold earth and sharp pebbles. I try to crawl forward but the rushing footsteps stop where I lay and I realize then that it’s all over.

——

My fingertips were sticky with the smell of ink. The officers took my warm, sweating palms and checked for fingerprints. I don’t know how they could get fingerprints now. The forest was too mysterious, a fingertip in itself.

They spoke amongst themselves, talking with frustration and confusion evident in their voices. I sat on this very uncomfortable chair at their station, feeling like a mess. I knew I smelt of dirt and sweat, my hair a mess and my eyes baggy and dark. There was a lump in my throat that hadn’t left since last night; it had gotten progressively worse since the police found me.

“That boy — Patrick Johnathan. He’s gone missin’.”

“Missin’?..Out where?”

“His family said his bed was empty. No one else seen him last night.”

“He was goin’ steady with Brenda Carter, now, wasn’t he?”

“They were…I’m too old for teenage gossip. But Brenda’s mum came in, saying that they had been dating. Brenda broke up with him.”

Of course Brenda ended it. Patrick killed her. Patrick hated that she didn’t want him and he killed her. Patrick deserves death after what he did. Him and Thomas Lambert both, they needed to rot in hell.

The police kneeled down and tried talking to me. I couldn’t even look in their faces. Their gross, disfigured, melting faces. I only looked down, numb to their voices and hard stare.

The sheriff, I realized, knelt down lower to look at me clearer and in the eye. I was shocked with fear to see the white of his eyes melting from their sockets. His face and features swirling into madness, harvested by blood and sweat, creating curves and indents of straight lines down his body.

The sheriff notices my fear and stands back up out of worry. The radio signals in: We found sum’in at the lake. Large, heavy bag, we feel a body inside.

Okay. We’ll be right over.

The officers quickly prepared themselves, about to rush out the station. I stand up, following them.

“Sorry, ma’am, but you have to stay here for further investigation-“

“Take me with you,” I interrupt, eyes twitching as I look at the officer, his head melting…”Please, I can show you what I saw.”

The officer hesitates but, with pursed lips, eventually helps me to the car and starts driving off to the lake. I sat in the backseat, staring out the window. Families and children walking down the street, every single one of them bloodied and swollen, ripped apart and hanging off of the threads of veins. I could laugh at the sight.

Sooner than I thought, we were going down the dirt road. It was bumpy, and I could hear the birds singing. It was disgusting, the sound of their chirping. It was a secret they shared with one another, repeating it over and over again. She knows the secret.

The trees reflected green and were clearer in the day, but not as greatly. My mind spun with deja vu, and a sudden adrenaline filled me once again. My mind buzzed with it, like it was a drug. My hands started trembling and I look forward, the lake already coming into view.

Before I knew it, I was standing at the lake. Everything went by so quickly. I could hear voices…Patrick’s voice in the forest. He was begging me, telling me he didn’t do it. Yeah, right.

A sense of disgust and relief washes over me the second I see the drenched, dark blue bag. The sheriff zips open the bag and cringes at the smell. We all did.

It was Brenda’s rotting body. The lake water had seeped into the bag and soaked her overnight. All her corpse could do was suck it up like a sponge. She was grey with not a single bit of life or redness in her swelled cheeks. She was dead. Really, really dead. But perhaps the oddest thing was that her face wasn’t melting.

Please, please I didn’t do it! Let me go! Let me GO!

Patrick’s voice was as clear as day now, as if he was right behind me. I turn around and there was nothing but the forest. While the police were distracted, I ran off into the trees. They yelled at me, soon chasing after me — but I ran faster. 

Patrick’s desperate, pleading voice echoes through my mind, back and forth like he was whispering directly into my ear. The sun burnt down over me and I couldn’t do a thing but run. I ran until stumbling over a tree stump, knocking me over onto the forest floor.

I cackle, slowly rising up to see a tree right in front of me, the shape of a face. I take a good look at all of the trees and laugh, realizing they all were of faces. Faces that screamed in agony, shrieking as if this was hell itself, and they were melting in the flames.

A particular faces catches my attention. It was Patrick’s. I recognize him from classes and the yearbook, even on the newspaper this morning, lying atop the sheriff’s desk: 19 year old Patrick Johnathan, missing. 

I grin at the sight, and although his mouth could not move I could hear his cries. I could see the way the tree bark was rooting into his flesh, and the branches poking deep knives into his skin. The blood, trickling down the tree like honey, put a smile on my face.

The next thing I know, I’m being handcuffed by the police, and dragged to the police station again. Investigators take pictures of the trees, and their murmurs of fear make me smile. Describing it as the most gruesome murder they’ve ever seen…and the most mysterious.

I sat in the cold station. It was freezing. But I was warm. A comfortable warmth that made me feel safe and protected. It could be boiling hot and I’d feel at ease.

I smiled gently to myself, thinking about last night. I knew Thomas was still out there, but he would run forever in an endless forest. Patrick would stay inside that tree, trapped with the ants and wood that made sure he would never escape. Neither of them would ever escape. And these policemen will never find the evidence against me.

The forest is a friend to me.