Samantha (Corrections Officer)

Sometimes the not knowing can be a safer place to live in. I drove a few miles away to this clearing I'd heard about, supposedly a safer spot, or at least one where you could see someone approaching. The place wasn't exactly luxurious, just a level patch of dirt with a few straggly trees around, but it felt more open. Figured that would help me sleep easier. It didn't.

Sometimes the not knowing can be a safer place to live in. I drove a few miles away to this clearing I'd heard about, supposedly a safer spot, or at least one where you could see someone approaching. The place wasn't exactly luxurious, just a level patch of dirt with a few straggly trees around, but it felt more open. Figured that would help me sleep easier. It didn't.

That first night in the new spot, I barely rested. Every rustling leaf was a potential intruder. I set up my little camp stove, tried to eat something, but my nerves had the better of me. The face I'd seen at the window kept replaying whenever I blinked. I fiddled with my phone, hoping for a shred of signal so I could call a friend and get some reassurance. No such luck.

That first night in the new spot, I barely rested. Every rustling leaf was a potential intruder. I set up my little camp stove, tried to eat something, but my nerves had the better of me. The face I'd seen at the window kept replaying whenever I blinked. I fiddled with my phone, hoping for a shred of signal so I could call a friend and get some reassurance. No such luck.

It was like the forest itself wanted me isolated. I finally dug out my satellite phone, which I usually reserve for real emergencies. I got a faint connection and immediately dialed a friend. She listened to me babble about mysterious chanting in the woods, and a stranger banging on my window.

It was like the forest itself wanted me isolated. I finally dug out my satellite phone, which I usually reserve for real emergencies. I got a faint connection and immediately dialed a friend. She listened to me babble about mysterious chanting in the woods, and a stranger banging on my window.

She kept saying, It sounds like you should come home, and all I managed was, I'm not ready to give up yet. Probably stubborn pride talking. The connection cut out halfway through our conversation, leaving me with static and a feeling of being stranded in more ways than one.

She kept saying, It sounds like you should come home, and all I managed was, I'm not ready to give up yet. Probably stubborn pride talking. The connection cut out halfway through our conversation, leaving me with static and a feeling of being stranded in more ways than one.

that night i did everything possible to stay calm zipped myself into my sleeping bag kept a flashlight in hand and locked all the doors problem was my mind wouldn't cooperate couldn't stop picturing a dark shape lurking behind every tree waiting for me to let my guard down Around midnight, I heard a loud crack in the distance, maybe a branch snapping, and my pulse ratcheted up again.

that night i did everything possible to stay calm zipped myself into my sleeping bag kept a flashlight in hand and locked all the doors problem was my mind wouldn't cooperate couldn't stop picturing a dark shape lurking behind every tree waiting for me to let my guard down Around midnight, I heard a loud crack in the distance, maybe a branch snapping, and my pulse ratcheted up again.

No chanting this time, but honestly, I wasn't sure which was worse, the unknown or the memory of it. By the next morning, I felt wrung out, like I'd barely closed my eyes at all. Even the bright sunlight didn't chase away the sense that I was being watched. I'm not one to give up easily, but there's a point where you realize this kind of dread can unravel you.

No chanting this time, but honestly, I wasn't sure which was worse, the unknown or the memory of it. By the next morning, I felt wrung out, like I'd barely closed my eyes at all. Even the bright sunlight didn't chase away the sense that I was being watched. I'm not one to give up easily, but there's a point where you realize this kind of dread can unravel you.

So, I packed up in a hurry, double-checked the engine, and started the long trek back to civilization. The whole drive home was just as tense. Each time the road curved, I caught myself glancing in the mirrors, bracing for a figure behind me. Nobody showed up.

So, I packed up in a hurry, double-checked the engine, and started the long trek back to civilization. The whole drive home was just as tense. Each time the road curved, I caught myself glancing in the mirrors, bracing for a figure behind me. Nobody showed up.

Eventually, I rolled onto a main highway, and the sight of a passing truck filled me with a strange relief I never thought I'd appreciate so much.

Eventually, I rolled onto a main highway, and the sight of a passing truck filled me with a strange relief I never thought I'd appreciate so much.

when i finally walked through my own front door i half expected some hidden presence to have followed me nothing did of course yet i still locked everything turned on every light as if my home had become an extension of those woods even days later i jolt awake at night imagining someone outside my window

when i finally walked through my own front door i half expected some hidden presence to have followed me nothing did of course yet i still locked everything turned on every light as if my home had become an extension of those woods even days later i jolt awake at night imagining someone outside my window

i'd never had a trip twist my nerves so hard and the worst part was i had no answers just a lingering echo of knocking in the dark reminding me that solitude can turn on you in ways you'd never see coming i was spending a quiet evening at the ranger station sorting gear minding my own business when the call came in

i'd never had a trip twist my nerves so hard and the worst part was i had no answers just a lingering echo of knocking in the dark reminding me that solitude can turn on you in ways you'd never see coming i was spending a quiet evening at the ranger station sorting gear minding my own business when the call came in