CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - CHILLING r/Nosleep Reddit HORROR STORIES to sneak into your dreams tonight

Episode Date: July 20, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORIES-►0:00 "The truth about why no one swims in the lake near my town anymore" Creepypasta►28:48 "Angels don't have wings, they have razorblades" Creepypasta►43:26 "I Don’t Think It Was An Avalanche" Creepypasta►1:01:14 "My therapist wants me to kxll myself" CreepypastaCreepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

I feel obliged to share what we have found with the public. The following might seem crazy to most, but that is what we found. You may be wondering who I am. My name is Chris Mayer. I'm a qualified geologist, though my job is to map the ocean floor. How I gotten into my current position is a long story in and of itself, so I will not waste time on that. Up until 2018, I did just that.

go to the oceans of the world and map their sea floor. At the beginning of that year, I returned from a voyage in the South Atlantic. I was ready to finally spend some time with my family. But then, not even a week since I came back home, I got a knock on my door. Two men dressed in black suits and black ties to boot greeted me at my door. They said they work with the CIA, and I was a man with a skill set that they needed. I, of course, didn't want anything to do with that. I wanted to rest and spend some time with my family.

Then they showed me the check I would receive if I accepted their offer. $250,000 up front, and then for every day I spent on the project, I will get $1,000 more. That piqued my interest. You can guess my answer from then on. Fast forward a few months, and I found myself on an about. an oil rig in the North Pacific Ocean. I can understand why they would want me as a seafloor mapper, but they wanted me for me as a geologist.

They stated they found me adequate because I was used to being on the sea for extended periods of time, and this project of theirs needed some experience with seafaring life, I guess. Anyway, that oil rig was refitted with all kinds of modern gadgets and machinery. Most curious of all, a massive drill. I mean that drill extended at least 200 feet into the air, and God knows how wide it was. Not to mention, it went all the way to the seafloor and then into the earth itself. The machine was not active.

I can only imagine the sound of it. Me and some others who came to the rig were shown to our rooms. We were not told for how long we'd be there, but we're here for the long run. As we came there late at night, we were told to red. dressed up and that tomorrow will be briefed. We all proceeded to go to our bunks and have a good night's rest, as we would find out later on, that will be a luxury. The next morning we were woken up.

It was about 5 a.m. Though all of us were a bit drowsy still, we dressed and made a way to the room where we'd be briefed. After we entered the small room and sat on the chairs provided for us, we were greeted by an older man who was in his 50s probably. He was in military uniform adorn with so many medals that if we were outside while it was sunny his medals would have probably blinded us.

He cleared his throat and spoke. Good day to you ladies and gentlemen. My name is Captain Alexander Dawson. I'm the one supervising this operation. He greeted us. Firstly, let me make sure all of you are here. He stared as he reached into an interior pocket of his well-decorated uniform.

revealing a folded piece of paper. He started listing off names and professions from the piece of paper. We had to raise our hand when he said our name and profession. It was as if we were back in school. In there, he listed engineers, a couple of marine biologists, and other professions in various fields of science. The most surprising was the presence of a linguistic expert. Why would they need a linguist here? I asked myself.

I was the last one listed. after he listed all of us and confirmed all were present he continued some of you may have noticed the large machine located in the centre of the rig that ladies and gents is a drill we are part of a government project to discover what lays below our feet we are drilling deep beneath the service of the earth our mission is to gather more knowledge about our planet in order to further humanity's collective knowledge he smiled then asked any questions there was a short silence before an older man I would wager even older than the man briefing us with glasses long messy grey hair and a mustache

raised his hand yes you are Professor Carl Madison the linguist I have two questions first why is it not simply a drill on land it would seem more practical at least for me

second is why do you need a linguist expert at a digging operation When Carl finished, Mr Dawson gave him an unimused look. He wasn't expecting any questions at all, apparently. First, Dawson started, that's classified. Second, I didn't make this list, so I can't answer that question, linguist. He said, with a pinch of irritation in his voice.

Now, I'll brief you on your jobs. He told us what we had to know. In short, the engineers were needed on maintenance and extensions, meaning when the drill gets to a certain depth, the drill is extended on the surface so we can continue drilling down. The marine biologists were primarily tasked with keeping an eye in the marine life

that could interfere with the operation. I don't know any sharks that can take a large enough fight to damage the drill, so I couldn't figure that one out. Me, being the only geologist, was tasked with searching for any anomalies that the pumps spit out in the words of the captain.

The linguist was told to, quote, Stand by. After that, we began working. An hour after the briefing, the drill roared to life. The sound could be described as a deep rumble. The entire rig shook as it came to life.

It was a sight to see when the things started rotating. It took a full ten minutes for the debris to be pummeled to the surface. We already dug quite deep, about four miles. The first week was uneventful. Other than all of us commenting on the cold and crappy weather, things were mundane. I met a couple of people, but I was talking with Carl the most, as he and I had the least work to do. I remember one conversation I had with him. He told me,

Say, Chris, do you think there is an ulterior motive to all this? Maybe there's something deep below us that we are unaware of. I remember he was skeptical or something. I didn't pay much attention. I knew every day I spent here is a bonus thousand bucks. It wasn't until three months later that something happened. We dug about 68 miles below. By my knowledge, we had only a little more to go until we breached the crust and started digging the astutenosphere.

Then, the pumps started spewing red. At first, I thought it might be magma, but that was impossible. A bunch of shouting and panic led to the drill being shut down. I quickly made my way down. I saw some of the red liquid spilled on a platform. One of the engineers covered his nose and picked up one of the chunks.

He then exclaimed, Jesus, and dropped it to the floor. Once I got there, the smell was first to hit me. A putrid smell of iron and rot. That's blood, someone said behind me I couldn't agree more and those chunks were chunks of meat

after that we were ordered to start the drill once again that was a mistake once the drill started up the waves started getting bigger an earthquake and its epicenter was right beneath us there was a slight vibration caused by the drill on the rig

but the earthquake was strong enough to be felt in the rig a constant tremor that lasted for an hour and a half. Then, when it stopped, there were a few moments apiece. It was followed by a strong tremor that dropped me on the floor. The others managed to catch themselves on the guardrails. The drill had an emergency shutdown. When inspected, the drill had been damaged, and it would take a few days for the repairs.

Meanwhile, I was trying to find Carl, but to no avail. I didn't even find him in the evening. I went to sleep that night in fear. The next morning I found some papers on a nightstand next to my bed. When I inspected them, I also saw a sticky note on the first paper, and it said, I found this in the captain's office. Read it, signed CM. The only person I knew were those initials was Carl.

When I opened the document, I saw it said classified in big bold letters. I quickly hid them under my bed and went to work analysing any new findings. I did ask the captain where Carl was. He simply said that he couldn't work here anymore due to sickness. So they were finding a replacement. That evening, I read those documents. I'll give you the gist of them. In the late 40s, just after World War II,

the US government had a similar operation as we are doing right now. The location was Antarctica. They wanted to establish a large base of operation somewhere isolated to drill as deep as they can. The name of the operation was the deep drill experiment, or simply DDE. They began as we did, nothing of particular interest. Then they hit the same point of pumping out gore instead of rock. But unlike us, they just continued. They had a string of earthquakes here.

hit the base, but didn't stop them either. If the jewel broke, they quickly repaired it and continued. At one point, they received a radio message originating from within the earth. It simply said, stop. They didn't stop. And shortly after, the mainland lost contact with the base. In 1947, the US Navy sent a large fleet to investigate what happened. 5,000 personnel, with multiple aircraft and millilions.

military ships, there were multiple casualties from an unknown assailant. The operation's name was high jump. Those were not the Germans in New Schuppenland, but rather something else entirely. The document itself didn't comment on the attackers, so I can't tell you much. As for the blood we pumped from the earth, well, the research from the base survived, most of it at least. They found that under the earth There is either an absolutely massive creature Or the earth itself is a biological entity There was mention of Yormangand and the hollow earth

They said that there is a subterranean civilization beneath our feet Yormangand is a mythological servant in Norse mythology And they refer to the fleshy bit of earth as Yormengund If it weren't an official classified government report I would have read this thinking it was some conspiracy theory. That was basically the end of the report. I threw it into the ocean after that, as not to arouse suspicion or incriminate myself if they found out I had it. The next morning, I saw one of the guys tasked with communications smoking on the top platform. I approached him

and wanted to start small talk in order to get my mind off the document. After some conversing, he said to me, Listen, Chris, I shouldn't be telling you this. Yesterday we got a message, and I can't explain how it's possible. But yeah, it's from inside the earth. That's where it came from. My heart skipped a beat upon hearing that. What did it say? I asked.

This is your final warning. Do not disturb him. After hearing that, I told him not to tell anyone he told me. He agreed. I managed to get off of the rig the day the drill went operational once again. I said to the captain that my health was in bad state and that I should go home. After some back and forth, he said yes. But I had to pledge that I would not say a word of what I witnessed here.

I am writing this to you from my home. The world must know the truth. We are not alone. But our neighbours seem to not be from above, but from below. and they are not happy with us, for we have disturbed a sleeping titan. I'm a linguist at one of the top universities in the country. That means I study languages. My specific field of expertise is the translation of ancient and dead languages, Greek, Latin,

cuneiform, that kind of thing. I will not divulge specifics such as my name or the school where I do my research, but it should suffice to say I hold a place of perception. stage in my field. Last week, I received a call from my old college classmate. He had gone into aeronautics while I pursued my studies, and he eventually ended up at NASA. We'd been friends in our school days, but after college, we had only kept a loose sort of contact. But that week, he called me with an almost fearful edge in his voice.

Listen, I wouldn't be calling you about this if I thought anyone else could handle it, he had said. But you are one of the top men in your field, so we feel your skills are suited to the unique situation we face. When I pressed in for details, he had remained tight-lipped. He told me that if I accepted the job, then there would be a plane waiting for me at the nearest airport within six hours. I admit that accepting this job was out of character for me, but my professional curiosity had been piqued. If this was something that demanded my skills, then I'd have to be able to be. I had almost an obligation to investigate. I had noticed the use of the word, we, though.

When I arrived at the airport and saw that I was flying in a private plane with men in black suits, it became obvious that this involved some of my friends' work at NASA. I was flying for several hours before the jet landed at a small rural airport. There were more men in black suits waiting for us. They instructed me to take the back seat in a Humvee with tinted window. I was then driven for another several hours until the men parked the car and instructed me to step out the vehicle. I did, and it took a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. I looked around.

The Humvee was parked in the middle of a green field. There was a small shed nearby. He looked rickety, close to the point of falling over. Walk into the shed and take the trowel off the wall. one of the men said. I'm sorry, I had replied, but the man remained silent. Apparently, those were all the instructions I was going to get.

So, I walked into the shed. It was surprisingly spacious. I looked around, and sure enough, there was a trowel hanging on the wall. I took it off cautiously. Nothing happened for a moment. Then, I almost lost my footing as the whole floor of the shed,

began to move down like an elevator. I was descending through this elevator shaft for a minute or two. The walls were concrete with light strategically placed to light the whole shaft. The platform finally stopped in front of some elevator doors.

They slid open. I walked through and I was now standing in an observation room overlooking what looked like a mission control room. Men and women were huddled over dizzingly complex consoles analyzing streams of data that rushed across their screens. Massive screens were hung up on the wall,

showing maps of the Earth and another planet that I did not recognize. Astronomy was never my field of expertise. As I stepped through the elevator's door, jaw dropped in awe at the complexity of the mission control room. Everyone in the observation room turned to look at me. I tore my gaze away from mission control and looked around. The observation room was occupied by scientists and lab coats and what appeared to be military officials. A man that I recognised as a general due to the stars on his shoulder walked up to me.

So, you must be the linguist. We were told you'd be arriving about now. The general extended his hand, and I shook it. Then one of the men wearing lab coats walked up to me. It took me a second to recognise this man as my friend, because we've not seen each other in so long. I'm glad you decided to answer my call, my friend said. We need to help.

Look, this is clearly some advanced operation, either for the military or space exploration, I replied, I don't understand what you would want my skills for. The general and my friend looked at each other, and then back to me. You want to sit down, my friend said. I took a seat and so,

my friend and the general. You've been granted clearance for what I'm about to tell you, and you must never tell another living soul, my friend said. We've developed an experimental material for space probes. It's an alloy 100 times stronger than steel, and NASA decided to put it to the greatest stress test available. The planet Venus. I nodded my head, trying to recall what I had learned about Venus in school.

I knew that the atmospheric pressure was, strong enough to crush almost anything, that there was a high level of volcanic activity and that it rained in acid. In short, the perfect place to test how durable a material is. We constructed a rover out of this alloy and we deployed it to the service of the planet, my friend said. It survived and for the last few weeks we've been driving it around Venus, collecting all sorts of samples and taking many photos. If this has happened, how come it's not all over the news? I asked. The general cut in to explain. We didn't want to expose the fact that we now have a material that is so far ahead of what anyone else has, the general said. We believe it has applications beyond space exploration,

so revealing it to the wider public would give away our tactical advantage. I see, but you haven't explained why you need me. I said. That was going to be the next part, my friend said. He got up from his seat and walked up to an intercom. He pressed the button and spoke into a microphone. Please bring up the picture, my friend said, his voice echoing into the mission control room. A scientist tapped some buttons at a console and an image took up one of the large screens on the wall.

The image showed a desolate landscape. it must have been taken from a high place because the camera appeared to be gazing down into a valley. The sky was a sickly yellow and the ground was made of black rock and dirt. But as I looked closely at the image I realized something. The rocks in the valley were arranged

in specific ways, ways that could not have been the result of whatever nature existed on Venus. And then I realized something These were symbols. Now, do you understand why I called, my friend said. My friend took me to a conference room in the facility.

There was a large whiteboard on one of the walls of the room, filled with various notes and observations about the symbols. He explained that they had been trying to figure out what the symbols meant for a week, and they'd hit a dead end. That is why they called me. As my friend was explaining this, more people started to file into the room. My friend introduced me to them one by one.

They were all fellow linguists that my friend had contacted. He had apparently gotten around academia after we separated and had made some contacts. All the other linguists were recommended to him by other professors at some of the top schools in the country. They had already been briefed, so once introductions were out of the way, my friend left me alone with the team. We began to debate all the possible means. meanings of the symbols. What many people outside of my field fail to understand is that there is a lot more to translation than simply directly interpreting the words of a language and converting

them into another language. For example, when starting from square one, with a language no one has seen before, you must determine the most basic things. Are the letters read left to right, right to left, up to down, down to what? There, a whole concept and ideas that can only be properly expressed in a particular language. So, as you can imagine, translating a set of symbols from another world without some kind of Rosetta's stone to give us a frame of reference is incredibly difficult. We worked on the symbols for hours. We tried comparing them to every language on earth, but there was simply nowhere to confirm any of our guesses. We had no one who could read or write the language to confirm our guess, and we had no other examples of similar symbols. No matter what we tried, we came up empty-handed. It was like we were bashing our heads into a brick wall.

After a while, we were just sitting at the conference table in silence. Occasionally, someone would pipe up, trying to suggest something, but the words would die in their throat as they realized we'd already tried that. As we sat there, I tried to come up with reasons we weren't able to make any progress. I was forced to come to the same conclusion I suspect the other people in the team had come to. The symbols were truly alien. The reason there was no comparison to anything on Earth

is because they weren't from Earth. If there are some things that couldn't be communicated across languages here on Earth, then how could we hope to receive a communication with an alien culture? And then, I thought about the implications of this, and those implications quickly became unnerving. Were they once aliens inhabiting Venus?

Before he became a wasteland? Were they responsible? Had they left some kind of warning? Something to let other species know what had ruined them? Were we trying to translate to warning? But as I was pondering this, my friend burst into the conference room, startling us out of our stupor. It was clear he'd been running because he was breathing heavily.

There's been a development. my friend said. My friend escorted me and the linguistics team back to the observation room, and in a single moment, my worldview was shattered. There was a live video feed of the symbols. The rover had been parked in front of them for a day now, and, standing behind the symbols, looking at the rover, was a man.

The man's skin was black like the rock that made up the ground. and it looked like he was made of rock too. There was no hair on him, and he was looking at the rover with a cautious look in his eyes. Everyone in mission control and the observation room was silent. You could have heard a pin drop.

And then, the man began to walk towards the rover. He stepped carefully over the symbols, clearly taking great care not to ruin them. When he was standing in front of the rover, he squatted down and looked directly into the robust camera. His face was remarkably human-like, even with a rocky skin,

Kourak sendatogapy, the man said in a gissauro voice. Gassenda terrace. What's it saying, Professor? The general asked me. But I was speechless. I was looking at an alien. And not only that,

a sentient one, capable of communication, living on the most inhospitable planet in the solar system. After a while, I responded to the general's question. I... I have no idea. My friend woke up to the intercom and pressed some buttons.

He then pressed the button to talk and spoke into the microphone. Hello? Can you understand this message? The message was broadcasted through the roguess speakers. The alien stumbled backwards, tripping over a rock. quickly got back to his feet and walked back up to the rover. Kudak'senda Tokubi. The alien repeated, slowly this time,

as if it was trying to make it easier for us to understand what he was saying. I'm sorry, we don't know what you're saying, my friend said into the microphone. The alien looked disappointed. It stepped back from the rover and sat on the ground. He looked down to the ground, clutching its head in its hands. It sat like that for a few moments, before he looked back up at the rover. He seemed to be in deep thought.

Then, he grinned. He stood up and began walking away from the rover. He stopped after a short distance and then gestured for the rover to follow it. The rover followed the alien through the Vesuvian landscape. The sounds of volcanoes erupting could be heard in the distance through the microphones on the rover. Eventually, the alien led the rover up a sea. steep hillside and paused at the top of the hill to allow the rover to catch up. When the rover finally crested the hill, it was looking down into a small valley.

And at the bottom of the valley was a small spacecraft of some kind. It looked like a gleaming silver teardrop lying at the bottom of a small crater. There appeared to be a kind of door built into the side, but it was closed. "'Sarex, you cut,' the alien said. It hurried down the hillside towards the teardrop. The rover followed it, going slowly down the hill so that it wouldn't slip. When it reached the bottom, the camera showed that the alien had opened the door in the side of the teardrop and was now examining its interior.

It emerged after a few seconds later, holding a small black box. The box had a red button, yellow button and green button on its side. side, with two red cylinders coming out of the top. The alien pressed the green button and set the box in the ground. The box played a loud, high-pitched tone, and then it was silent. Hello, the alien said in a low, gravely voice. Can you understand me? My friend hurriedly pressed the button in the intercom.

Yes, yes we can understand you, he said, in an example. excited tone. Oh, praise the mother, the alien said, sounding elated. Someone has finally seen my message and come for me. I've been here for so, so long. I'm sorry, my friend said. Why would someone come for you? Are you not a native of this world? Oh, mother, no, the alien said. I've been stranded here for, for I don't know how long. Everyone in the room looked at each other. Then my friend turned back to the intercom. I'm sorry, but this isn't a rescue mission.

We found you an accident. The look of hope on the alien's face was dashed in an instant. He looked crushed. He sat down on the ground. He looked down at the dirt for a while. What planet does this crash? hail from the alien said after a while earth my friend said the third planet in the solar system the alien suddenly laughed his voice was a deep booming noise well isn't

this simply cosmic the alien said of course I'm finally found by you what do you mean, my friend said. The alien looked straight into the rover's camera, a grin on its face. Poor planet was my original destination. I suppose I owe you my story. The alien said, I have not talked to anyone in so long. Yes, please, my friend said. We would love to hear your story. We, the alien asked. I'm speaking from a room with several representatives from our planet, my friend said. We can all see and hear you through this rover. I see, the alien said.

He grinned and waved at the rover. Hello, people of the planet Earth. It's lovely to finally meet you. The general moved my friend aside so he could speak into the intercom. Son, you better explain why you're trying to come to our planet. Yes, yes, I suppose I should explain myself, the alien said. I imagine that I gave you quite the shock, both with my appearance and my statement. The alien took a deep breath.

Well then, let's start from the beginning. My name is Coogunticka. It means one who gazes into the distance in my language. I lived on a prosperous world. We'd achieved the harmony in our planet. We drew energy from the light of our star and the movements of our oceans. I was a scientist working in the field of aeronautics. We had achieved space travel, and we were on a way to establishing permanent settlements on other planets in our solar system.

But then, our planet began to collapse. When seen geological forces began to tear it apart, evacuation was her only option. Our most brilliant minds were selected for a special treatment. Each person would be given their own indestructible pods where there would be put into stasis and be sent out into the cosmos. The goal was to preserve some of our species, knowledge and culture and spread it throughout the galaxy. We were also given a special serum. When our pods landed on an alien world, it would take readings of the atmosphere and environmental conditions around it.

Then the serum would be injected into us, transforming our biology, so we could thrive on this new world. I was chosen to be sent to a nearby, habitual world to spread our species' knowledge with the low-level sentient life-forms that live there. Your earth. But something must have gone wrong with my journey. My part veered off course, and I crashed here instead. He gestured around at the barren landscape. The serum made me practically immortal and self-sufficient so that I could survive here. But that is all I'm doing.

Surviving. Hoping someone, anyone would come take me away from here. He looked down at the ground again. He was despondent. After a while, he looked back up into the camera. His expression was one of the deepest despair I've ever seen. Please. Help me.

He said, his voice nearly breaking. I just... I can't be alone anymore. I just can't. Everyone in the observation room looked at each other. Some were nearly on the verge of tears, but the general was just looking at him on the screen, occupied with a stoic expression on his face.

Finally, he pressed the button on the intercom. We'll do what we can. After their conversation, I was quickly escorted out of the observation room, along with all the other linguists. Our services were no longer required. I was escorted back to another black convie with more men in dark suits. On the drive to the airport, they told me that I could never tell another soul what I had witnessed, or else they would make sure I was never heard from again.

But after that encounter, I caught myself looking up into the night sky more often. How could I rest knowing that there was someone up there, simply waiting to die or be rescued? I hope I've taken the necessary precautions so that I can share my story, so that I could pass the burden of this knowledge unto you. I would feel better if more knew, knew about what keeps me up at night, knew about the one who was trapped on a dead world, waiting for us to come save him. I'm writing this as a complete and total recount of the events I experienced on Sillium Mountain almost three months ago, so I can have my facts straight if the police decide to listen to me. No, when they decide to listen to me. They have to, because I am terrified of what will happen if they don't.

I know I already lost my friend, Ethan, and I'm afraid that whatever that thing was may hurt more people. I've already tried to contact the local authorities, the news, hell, even the local wildlife conservation group to see if they know anything, but I've either been laughed away or thrown out for, quote, wasting their time. So, this document is a way for me to gather my thoughts, but also as a warning. At this point, I think I have to be the one to do something about this, and, in case I don't make it back and things get worse, I want someone to be brought up to speed. My name is Ned Harris. I have dark hair, brown eyes,

missing the tip of my pinky on my right hand and a small scar on my left cheek. If you are reading this and then later see me casually walk in the streaks of Jericho, West Virginia, it means I failed. Get out while you can, and for the love of God,

do not go into the woods. This nightmare came to be when my friend Ethan Lancaster and I decided to camp out on Cillian Mountain for a week in celebration of his recent promotion. This was going to be a first for us, but one we were more than excited for. Sillium Mountain was a notorious difficult mountain to hike

and even more difficult to survive on. Only a handful of people have ever made it to the peak and returned, more than a handful were never seen again. This would turn most people away, but Ethan and I were avid hikers and campers. We met on a camping forum five years earlier and becoming close friends almost immediately

due to our mutual love of the outdoors. We'd been on numerous hikes throughout the years, varying in difficulty. But when Ethan became general manager for the firm he worked at, we decided it was time to finally tackle the big one. After a month of planning and saving up for new gear, we found ourselves in Jericho, West Virginia,

Virginia. Jericho was a small Gatlinburg-esque town that sat squarely at the bottom of Sillian. Consisting of only two roads and a population of a few hundred, it was hardly the Gatlingburg competitor that the ads led you to believe. It had a few attractions, like bars, restaurants, museums, and most famously Sweet Tooth, the concerningly obese Grizzly had spent a days roaming the barren enclosure. Tourists were beginning to trickle in now that the seemingly eternal snow is beginning to melt, but for the most part, Jericho wasn't meant for tourists. It was the place where all hikers began their journey, obsidian, after purchasing all the overpriced gear at the local shops, of course. Ethan and I found a motel for the

night and were up the next morning before sunrise, so we could get a jump start on the three-day hike to our chosen camp spot, which we'd marked on our map. Aside from a twisted ankle, and Ethan being charged by a particularly aggressive raccoon, the hike itself was uneventful. The steep, yet relatively short slopes of Sillian, scared most of the ill-fit hikers away quickly. But we tracked up the 45-degree slopes for these, having trained for this journey for months. By the second day, we only occasionally ran into other experienced hikers, in which we would return their friendly wave and continue on our separate paths. By dusk of the second day we arrived at a chosen camp spot

It was a small clearing that provided some leg room for the suffocating pines that speckled landscape And had a small creek babbling away nearby thanks to the melting snow We had camp set up in under an hour and began the rituals we had become accustomed to after many years of camping together I began preparing tonight's dinner a lovely pack of dehydrated mac and cheese while Ethan went to find firewood. Once I had all the cooking utensils out of their cases and set up how I like them, I grabbed a large pot and headed over to the creek

so that we could do the pesky, dehydrating part of our meal. The area surrounding the creek was picturesque, like something you'd seen in a water bottle wrapper. The crystal clear water trickled softly down the slopes, with evidence of local wildlife regularly stopping for a quick drink. I took a moment to appreciate the scenery,

Taking a deep breath of the cold mountain air and feeling the high that made me fall in love with hiking many years before. I knelt by the creek and began to fill the pot, whistling softly to myself, and something made me stop. I glanced round at my surroundings, scanning the tree line behind me and the steep, rocky slope ahead of me. My ears strained for a sound that I hadn't heard, but my brain still warned me of. The hair on the back of my neck shot up as I quickly looked at. to my right at the slopes above me. I saw nothing in the cragid peaks above, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

The once soft babbling creek now sounded like a roaring river as I stared into the rocks above, frozen to the spot with a confusing terror that seemed to come from nothing. I slowly rose from my knee and faced the peaks to my right. It's hard to explain, but it felt as if they were watching me. of a creature that resided in them, but the mountain itself. The skin in my scalp tightened as my stomach churned,

as the chirping birds around me fell silent, as if some kind of predator had just came into view. I backed away from the creek, continuously scanning the cliffs above me. It felt as if I was staring into the eyes of an old god and sleep for a millennia that had just decided to wake up and stare directly into my soul. A force so old and eternal

That my existence was a mere blip in comparison My life, a blink if you miss it moment I was suddenly overcome With this enormous wave of terror That would have caused me to drop the pot And sprint back home Had it not subsided as quickly as it came The birds began to chirp once more

And the creek's deafening roar Returned to a trickle I stood for nearly 20 minutes On moving and staring at the cliff above, before eventually gaining the courage to the step away from the creek and returned to the camp, never taking my eyes away from what felt like an unseen assailant. A half an hour later, I was back at camp, running the water through our purifier and staring off into nothing. My rapidly beating heart had finally begun to slow, and I began to feel

silly. Look at you, Harris, jumping at mountain ghosts, I muttered to myself. chuckling at the absurdity of my experience but unable to shake it completely it was like a small rat was inside my skull gnawing away at my brain no matter how hard I tried to shake it loose I glanced my watch and frowned

it was almost nine Ethan had been gone for nearly an hour and it was nearly dark it wasn't uncommon for him to take this long clicks in firewood but we both agreed to be back at camp before sunset I looked east the direction he had gone and grabbed my flashlight. I knew he would give me hell for worrying about him,

but if he had gotten lost or hurt, it would be damn near impossible to find him in total darkness. I clicked the button and a beam of light illuminated the woods ahead of me, casting the trees and rocks in a harsh white light and everything outside the circle to be shrouded in darkness. I took a deep breath and ventured into the world. the woods. Ethan, I called out, following the tracks he left in the melting snow.

It's almost dark. You should head back now. The only response I got was that of the crickets beginning to chirp. I swallowed, gripped the flashlight tighter, and pushed on. Come on, man, seriously. Let's get back to camp. I passed the beam from tree to tree. My nerves causing me to jump as I expected to see some twisted face.

peering from behind the trunks, but never seeing anything. I eventually lost this trail as he seemed to turn and ascend upwards. I turned and pointed my light past the trees, and my heart jumped into my throat. The same peaks as before loomed over me, staring down with a smug stoicism that seemed to say, welcome back. My hand trembled, causing the light that dance across the rocks above me.

That feeling of it. existential terror washed over me once more, crashing into my mind with such a force that I immediately turned and ran, not as a man who made a decision, but as a mindless animal relying on instinct to save it from an imminent death. I crashed through the woods, crying out as sharp stick seemed to claw at my face and arms. I felt the distinct presence of something behind me, an immense invisible force that was bearing down in me like a thundering avalanche,

closing the distance between us faster than I was. closing the distance between me and the camp. I picked up the speed, pumping my legs as fast as I could and ignoring the stinging pain as the branches raked across me. I half panted and half sobbed as I exploded through the brush

and fell into the clearing, going into the fetal position and waiting for an attack. That never came. After a moment I peered through my fingers, watching the gently rustling branches in front of me, as everything beyond them was now cast

in total darkness from the setting sun. I took a deep breath and rose to my hands and knees, desperately trying to slow my heart rate before I either collapsed or vomited. Once I felt like I wasn't going to pass out anymore, I rose to my feet, backing away from the woods I had just escaped from,

and turned back to the camp. Ethan was standing in the center of the clearing, his arms held firmly at its sides, and his head lolling around lazily, as if he were drunk. Ethan, what the hell, man? I panted, glancing behind me into the woods again, before making my way over to him.

Are you okay? I was looking for you, and then the weirdest thing happened. Ethan, what the hell man? Ethan responded, still facing away from me. I froze. His voice sounded rough, as if he had suddenly aged 30 years and smoked a pack a day in that time. Even more strange was that the inflection of his voice. How he said it was identical to how I did, almost like listening to a playback recording.

Uh, yeah, listen I. What the hell is that? He suddenly screamed out, making me jump. Oh God, please, I... He cut himself off, each word signing more and more like Ethan's normal voice, before mimicking a strange snapping noise like a broken twig or... Ethan? I said, slowly approaching a... him from behind. This isn't funny, man. You're scaring me. Scareing you.

He responded, swaying slightly as I approached. He sounded totally normal now, which didn't make me feel all that better. I stretched my hand towards him as he made a sound that still haunts me to this day. A noise that sounded like a mix between a click and a short shriek and seemed almost impossible for a person to be able to make. Before I was able to touch his shoulder, he whirled around and faced me, causing me to jump back and yell out in terror. He bared his teeth at me, a horrific and failed mimicry of a smile. His blonde hair was filthy and hung over his face and his eyes. My God, his eyes were pointing in opposite directions before sliding together and focusing on me.

My stomach churned and my hair stood an end. as those eyes seemed to stare through me, in a gaze that I had only felt before, never seen. Come on, Ned, I have something to... Show you. It stammered, like it was still trying to figure out how to work its tongue. Get the hell away from me! I squeaked out, backing away from whatever this thing was.

Every animalistic instinct in me was screaming at once to run to get away from this foul mimicry of life of a friend. It isn't far, just a few hundred yards. It stammered, lurching towards me in unnatural movements as if controlled by some unseen things. I turned to run and tripped over my hiking bag, landing hard and crying out in pain as my previously twisted ankle became a sprained ankle. It is beautiful, it cried out as it descended upon me. Wee. A beautiful.

It grabbed onto my face, and I gasped out in horror. The flesh on his hands were rubbery like frog skin, and it caused my own skin to crawl in an attempt to avoid contact with this crime against nature. You are not. Beautiful. I struggled against the Ethan thing, eventually landing a blow to its face with my elbow. It stumbled, that horrific face still frozen into a false smile,

as it rose back to its feet and turned towards me. I jumped to my feet and ran, screaming in agony as my sprained ankle became a broken ankle. The trees around me rustled violently. The branches clawed at my faces as if they were trying to slow me down. I cast a glance behind me and screamed in terror. The Ethan thing was behind me. That false human expression unmoving as it followed me at a dead sprint,

its arms plastered stiffly to its side. I ducked and dodged the branches as best as I could, breathing so loudly that I didn't even notice the thing sprinting behind me, wasn't breathing at all. I could feel it closing in, his dead eyes staring hungrily at the back of my head. I was done for. I couldn't outrun it, even if I didn't have a broken ankle. Jesus, its legs weren't even bending. How the hell? It continued gaining on me.

The branches almost seemed to part for me. Tears streamed down my face. as I gasped for air, pumping my good leg as fast as I could. Closer. My head pounded from the cold mountain air. Closer. I could feel his presence right behind me now. It emanated a scent that smelled old.

Closer. Very old. Closer. Older than everything. I stumbled and began to pitch and spin down the mountain slopes, crying out as I slammed into tree trunks and rocks. I've had my ribs splinter and my vivantor. and my vision went white as my head collided with a large root.

I rolled off an overhang and three fell for two to three seconds before slamming into something below, causing whatever it was the scream out and surprise in anger. I swam in and out of consciousness as people crawled their way out of the tent I fell upon. Their voices sounded distant and echoed in the void I was quickly sinking into. I felt hands pat me down and assessed my condition and heard the distant beeping and worried voice of someone on the phone. own. The last thing I saw before blacking out, with the trees on the ledge I had fallen from, looming above me like ancient giants. That was almost three months ago now. I spent a few days in a hospital outside of Jericho before being released with my injuries tended to. I immediately went to the Jericho Police Department and told them my story, in which I was reminded that it was strictly forbidden to have drugs of any kind on Cillian. I spent the next month trying to find someone, anyone who would believe me.

I pushed my friends and family away in my hysteria and put a leave at work until I could figure myself out. The strangest thing, no one seemed to remember Ethan. Whenever I'd bring him up, I'd just get weird looks with people saying that I'd done all my camping trips solo. Even Ethan's family looked extremely concerned as they hug their daughter, an only child, afraid of the man in the living room screaming about a son they never had. I felt like I was losing my mind, so I decided to return to Jericho to try and settle this once and for all. I walked the street to the small mountain town,

jumping at every noise and recalling from anyone who walked too close. I took a sweep from the bottle of Jameson I carried in a brown paper bag, the closest thing I had to a friend these days. I passed the hotel where Ethan and I stayed at, which of course didn't have him on record and continue down Main Street toward the path that led up the mountain I fidgeted with my hands

brushing my unkempt and unwashed hair out of my face as I approached the trail passing by a group of tourists who were listening to a trail guide a rose a voice I slowly turned towards the group of middle-aged tourists taking pictures and listening to the tour guide

standing on a large log The man wore the tell-tale brown and green cocky outfit of a forest guide, pointing towards a map and telling corny jokes to the group as he pushed the blonde hair out of his eyes. Ethan. I rushed towards the group, shoving tourists away from me as I pushed a path towards Ethan. Hey! I screamed, startling the people around me. Ethan turned and locked eyes with me.

The briefest flash of recognition in his eyes before he smiled. Hello, sir. If you would like to join the group, you can sign up at the hut over that... I tackled him, ripping him off the stump and slamming him to the ground. The crowd gasped as I slam my fist onto his face over and over again. What are you? What did you do to my friend? I roared, trying to pull his hands away from his face so I could hit him again. I felt a pair of hands grabbed me and pull me off of Ethan roughly, sending me sprawling on the grass. Two cups pounced on me, forcing my hands in a pair of it.

of coughs. No, no, you don't understand, I screamed, struggling against the grip. Ethan rose to his feet and wiped some blood from his nose, smiling down at me. Go easy on him, fellas, he said, flashing a warm smile to the cops. No harm done, just needs to work out whatever he's on, I'm sure. I wrenched against the cops and tried to lunge at him, but they held tight and began to drag me away. No, no, you don't know what you're doing, I cried, fighting against the men. I woped back towards Ethan, who only smiled at me.

I noticed his assistant watching me too, with an awkward looking smile that looks like she hadn't quite mastered it yet. No, please! I yelled as I was thrown into the back of a cop car, hearing Ethan's voice carrying over the lot as the door was slam closed. Sorry about that, folks. some crazy people, huh? Anyway, let's get on with a hike, shall we? I have something very beautiful. I'd love to show you all.

I first realized something was wrong when I found pictures of my phone that I knew couldn't be real. It had been a while since I'd look back through my gallery app more than a few days, and I only did it this time out of boredom while waiting in line at the drive-thru pharmacy. That sense of comfortable familiarity

at scrolling past pictures I was reminded I'd taken. A cool looking sky. My dog, Tanner, the girl I've been seeing for the past few weeks, was pleasant and distracting. So much so, I had to hear a hunk behind me before I remembered to edge up ten feet to keep the line moving. But when I went back more than a few months, things started to change. The pictures were things I didn't remember, people that weren't familiar and places I'd never been. What was all this?

No one else had ever used my phone to take pictures that I remembered, and certainly not long enough to take months' worth of pictures I'd never seen. As I went back two years, I was now into my last phone's pictures that had been saved in the cloud. And again, none of these looked familiar. I was even in some of them, posing or hugging people, even kissing this woman in several that I didn't know at all. Mouth dry, I pulled out a line and drove away. For a few minutes I just wondered

My mind feeling spongy and untrustworthy Like I'd taken something or had too much to drink It distracted me Made me feel unsteady I caught myself weaving off the road once Then a second time And that was enough to get me to pull over at a gas station and park I needed to get myself together

Before I had an accident I reached for my phone again but stopped short I didn't want to see more pictures It would only make me feel stranger and more disconnected. I needed rest. I just closed my eyes for a minute, try to relax and see if I could make it home. Before I knew it, I was asleep,

drifting along a river of dreams that took me all the way back to laying on my bed at home. I had music playing now, heavy metal that dad would call devil music, only when I cranked it up too loud. And I was staring at my ceiling. Back then, I was only a level. and on Friday nights like this one, I could stay up late so long as I stayed in my room and pretended I was going to sleep.

So I'd read or listen to my CDs low, or maybe the radio show that came out at midnight on the weekends. I'd stare at the ceiling of softly glowing stick on stars and planet, and fight the urge to sleep as long as I could. This night, my parents had already gone to bed themselves, and I knew I only had a few minutes before the growing lyrics of the band blended into a steady rhythm that would lull me. me to sleep. When the knock of the window came, I jumped. What could it be? I was on the second floor, and all the trees were on the other side of the house. Turning, I squinted as I looked up at the policewoman frowning down at me, a look of mild concern on a face. Are you okay, sir? I blinked around in confusion. I was still at the gas station, but it had already gotten dark. Rolling down

the window. I gave her an awkward smile. Um, yeah, I... did I do something wrong? She smiled a little. No, not that I know of, but the cashier and there called 911 because she said you've been sitting out here since this afternoon. I think she was worried you were sick or something. The officer raised an eyebrow. You sick? Shaking my head, I glanced toward the store and saw a young woman looking out at me over some kind of chip display. giving her a little wave, I turned back to the policewoman. No, I just was really tired, I guess. I meant a blow and rest my eyes for a minute and...

What time is it? She glanced at a watch. Just past 10.30. Damn, I guess I really did need sleep. Maybe I'm coming down with something after all. I suddenly remember the pictures of my phone and thought the urge to blurt out what I'd seen. Maybe tell her that someone must have hacked my phone

No, that was stupid. And maybe it was part of a dream anyway. Trying to look sane and sober, I gave her an apologetic smile. I really am okay, though. I'll just head home if that's okay. The woman studded me a moment and then nodded. Yeah, sure, just... You're sure you're okay to drive?

When I nodded, she stepped back. Okay, well, have a good night. I hope you feel better. I backed out slow and carefully, and when I reached the road, I could tell I was feeling better, more steady. I made it home and waited

until I was inside to look at my phone again. My heart sunk when I immediately saw the strange pictures where I'd left off scrolling. The top one on the screen was of me and this woman I was kissing in the other pictures, standing together, smiling. The closeness and angle

made it seem like I was taking a picture of a picture of us, and in the background, I could see a pool of what looked like a cookout, but again, it was a place and people I didn't recognize. Despite having been passed out in my car for almost six hours, I suddenly felt very tired. I didn't want dinner, just more sleep, and I needed to be up early in the morning anyway to go visit. Mom, how have you been? She looked up at me, her eyes bright and cloudy at the same time. I could already tell it wasn't a good day for her. Her momentary excitement had someone coming to see her

was already fading, and she wasn't even trying to hide the fact that she didn't recognise me, which on her scale of trying to accommodate her Alzheimer's was on the low end. So, I sat with her, trying to make small talk that went nowhere, as she briefly but politely responded to this stranger, who she maybe had some odd sense she should know. but she couldn't say from where or when

as we stared at the window at the birds hopping around on the sunlit brick patio outside I felt the restless need to try again to get a talking more I made a joke about how the bricks must be hot for the birds to hop around on so much and those are sparrows they hop around when they're on the ground because that's not where they belong they forage down below but they live in the trees as opposed to a true ground bird like a partridge

When I looked up, her sharp eyes found mine, as a voice grew lightly reproachful. I've told you that before, Nolan. I nodded. My vision grown slightly hazy as I broke a gaze and looked back out the window. Yeah, Mom, you have. Sorry, I forgot. She reached over and patting my leg. No need to be sorry.

I get forgetful too. I blinked, struggling with what to say, when my mum. mother spoke up again. Where's Martia? She didn't come this time. I looked back at her then, unable to hide my confusion. Martia? Who's Marcia?

She raised an eyebrow and laughed. Who's Martia? Don't let her hear you say that. When I didn't smile or laugh in return, her expression grew more serious. Nolan, I'm talking about your wife, your wife, Martia. Her lip began to tremble as her eyes widened slightly. I... I do have that right, don't I? I know I get confused sometimes, but...

I mean, I know you have a wife named Martia. She paused, looking down at her hands, milling against each other nervously as she went on. Don't you? I almost told her yes, just to get her to stop looking so terrified and ashamed. But what good would that do? Telling the truth.

Lying, none of it made it any better. Ten minutes from now, she would just... A thought struck me. Pulling out my phone, I opened the gallery app and scrolled down to the pictures I didn't recognize before handing her the phone. Hey, just... Look at these pictures, yeah? You can touch the screen and scroll them. Yeah, like that.

Just... Do you recognize any of these people? My mother blushed slightly and shot me a hard look. Is this to see if I can remember any of them? I shook my head. No, Mom, no. I... I don't remember these people.

I don't know what these places are. Or who took the pictures? I just want to see if you do. Her frown deepened. Honey, are you okay? I know... She sighed. I know you're worried about getting memory problems like me, but...

You're still young. What, 35? I nodded. Yeah, until next month. She smiled. Until next month, that's exactly right. So try not to worry. Memory can be...

I cut her off, trying to keep my voice soft. Mom, please, just look while... Why, I can still remember things, I thought. While I'm still here, my mother watched me for a moment, and then nodded, turning to studiously scroll through several of the pictures before looking back up at me.

Honey, you know all these people. This is Marcia. She pointed to a photo of the woman I'd seen so many times. And these two? These were taken in Doug's backyard. She scrolled down a bit more before pointing.

See, there's Doug and his wife right there. She met my eyes again, clearly afraid. Are there other pictures you meant? I must be looking at the wrong ones. I swallowed and took the phone back from her. No, no, those are the right ones. We sat silent for several moments until she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. You really don't remember your wife or your best friend?

You're not playing a trick on me. I won't be angry, but Nolan, are you telling me the truth? Shaking my head, I looked back up at her. I swear, I think there's something wrong with me. There has to be. She looked confused What's wrong with you? Well, I mean

I can't remember things Things I should remember My mother smiled Her eyes drifting back toward the window Oh, that happens to everybody I have memory trouble sometimes too Shuddering I reached out and took her hand Giving it a squeeze

She held it for a moment Before pulling back Her gaze distant now and far away I sat with a few more quiet minutes Before heading back to the car The light painfully bright as I Looked at the thing tapping my window His face was large and round

Hard and white The faint glow that seeped through the glass To fill my darkened bedroom with a haze of sickly light The electric guitar riff squealed high Before the bass kicked in And in the space between the two The creature knocked again I was terrified as I looked at

it. A face with just a small jut for a nose and two large pits for eyes dug into a circle of white bone. It looked like a child's monstrous, half-finished drawing of the man in the moon. And behind it, floating in the silver light of the real moon, I saw twisting grey limbs splayed out in every direction like a stick bug married to an octopus, every arm or leg ending in a hard-hucking claw. Even the one that wrapped on the window between beats of the music, It must have been the light that drew me forward. I could see it reaching out to me, a shining cloud that I breathed in. And when I breathed it in, I lost my fear and unafraid.

I opened the window. It didn't wait for an invitation. And even as it crawled forward into me, I saw its face begin to split open into a terrible mouth. All of it was a terrible mouth. A horrible hunger, a million turning teeth, and a pebble. pink questing tongue. The tongue shot out and pierced my breastbone, even as the force flung me back into its surrounding arms.

I gasped and found my fear again. I heard something, and at first I thought it was my own frantic mind whispering. But no, it was the creature, telling me everything would be okay, that it was so sorry but had to be this way. It had to live, and it would give me. me what it could, but in the end, he would have to take more.

It was sorry, but there was so little room for mercy in this... World, and there won't be more if we don't make it, right? Matsia blinked at me. Nolan? She laughed as she followed my gaze to something horrible and distant that she couldn't see, that I couldn't see any more either, except in some dreaming memory or remembered nightmare. I blinked and looked at her. Sorry, hon, I think I spaced out for a second.

What were you saying? She shook her head, frowning slightly as she leaned across the table. It's okay. I just... You looked kind of freaked out. The waitress brought us on lunch just then. But when she had left, Martia picked the thread back up. You looked kind of scared.

What were you thinking about? I shrugged. I don't know. I think I was remember. remembering something from when I was a kid. A nightmare I had once about a monster coming in my room and... I took a sip of water.

And... ...eating me. She laughed. Jesus. Well, you look pretty good for someone that's been monster eaten. What made you think about that? You know how it is. Sometimes things just come back to you

at the weirdest times. Martius stabbed a piece of pasta. I guess. But you'll have the time with that nightmare. Yeah, sure, I will. I picked up my own plate absently. Just... Not now, okay?

I don't want this... My words died, as I saw the edge of something colourful, poking out from under the rim of my plate. Pulling it out, I found my tongue begin to thicken in my throat, as I recognised it. It was a piece of folded colour paper, slig to the touch, and folded into a soft. square. Turning it over just confirmed what I already knew it was. Liner notes for an old

CD I had growing up. I'd been playing it the night there was a knock on my window. What is that? Matty's voice was curious, but also concerned. She could see my face, see my hands shaking as I read the words that had been scrawled across the front of the paper. The cover image was of a tombstone surrounded by skeleton hands licked by fire. The words were written in small, neat rows within the borders of the gravestone, almost like an epitaph. I recognised the handwriting. It was mine.

At least mine when I was a kid. But the words, what were those words? The sky will burn the... Night you die. I jumped, slightly startled. to the voice at my elbow. Looking behind me, I saw a tiny old woman in a pink bathrobe shuffling past me.

She had been the one that said it, but I couldn't tell if she knew I was there at all. I noticed motion at the corner of my eye as one of the nurses ran up and gently grabbed the woman's shoulders. Giving me a sour luck, she started steering the lady back toward the front of the nursing home.

You really have to be careful when you come out. Always make sure the door latch is behind you, please, and that no one follows you out, sometimes they slip through. I went to apologize, but she was already hustling the little woman back across the parking lot. Frowning, I headed to my car and got in. Did I really know these people like Mom said? And if so, what was the best way of finding out when I didn't even know who or where they were? And if I had amnesia or something, wouldn't they have found me already?

Wouldn't my wife be at home instead of me having memories of day? Pinellope and I needed to breathe. May we start by trying to contact Penelope and see what she knew and remembered. Feeling slightly better that I had a plan, I reached to... Get the bill when I heard Martia laugh. Walking up, I saw she was tearing off pieces of bread and feeding it to a pair of birds that were hopping around between our table and the next. She glanced at me and grinned.

Aren't they cute? I wonder what kind they are. My throat felt tight. I think they're sparrows. She nodded absently. Well, they're brave. We must be giants to them, and they still come down and dance around our feet for some tasty bread.

A smile began to fade. They hop back and forth when they're on the ground, because that's not where they belong. My eyes widened. What did you? Please don't feed them, ma'am. I looked up to see them. see the waitress looking at Martia disapprovingly, before gesturing of the metal railing

surrounding the perimeter of the dining area. We've got the fence up to discourage animals from bothering customers, but sometimes they slip through. I'm still young, so the lives I give you aren't many or long. I'm sorry they tangle at the end. They say I'll get better as I grow. The bony limbs holding me were hard and sharp, but their grasp, while firm, was still gentle. I looked down and saw the thick tongue, purple black now, sucking at my chest, draining my insides. It didn't hurt, not really. It was just the pressure and tension. And as I watched, the creature pulled the tongue away, apparently satisfied. Sleep now. Go back to those lives. They are real and this is the dream. They are your life

and this is the nightmare. Do not. not be afraid. It was easing me back onto my bed now, and I did want to just sleep, to just wake up from this terrible dream. But then I saw the orange light flare in the corners of the room, and I couldn't help but lock over the flames crawling up the wall. Do not worry. You will not feel the fire. It is only so others do not understand I was here. And this is a dream, remember? You cannot be hurt by a dream. And took a hard place. claw and softly nudged my head back straight so I was staring up at the ceiling. There, just relax and let go. Let go and wake up in your real lives. Not this shabby thing.

I sensed more than sore as it moved to the window. And thank you. I'll always remember what you gave to me. Thank you. It was gone now, but I wasn't far behind. My breath was hard to come. come by and my chest felt numb. I couldn't move anymore, and the edges of my vision were already fading to greyish black. Fighting back, a distant kind of panic, I focused on the ceiling. Oh, those glowing stars and planets. The comet I'd stuck myself when my dad helped me up to reach.

I couldn't see their light anymore. Not really. The fire was too bright, but I still imagine them glowing, still alive and shining down on me. The fire reached the edge of the ceiling, causing the first of the constellations that curl up and burn away. Oh God, I needed to wake up. I needed to get out of this right now. This wasn't my life, my real life. Was this?

Wasn't it? I looked around my car, halfway out of the parking lot at the nursing home. What was wrong with me? Was I losing time now? Losing who I was? No, I knew who I was. I was Nolan and this was my real life

Matia was my wife and we just had lunch and everything is great and I was okay everything was okay trembling and reached out and touched Matzia's arm as we walked away from the restaurant she stopped and looked back at me

her smile quickly turning to a look of concern Nolan what's wrong I am me aunt I Marcy's forehead furrowed as she frowned

Of course you are What are you Her eyes widened And she began to scream I only had to look down To see why My hands Were beginning to burn

The brief moment In which your eyes adjust to the darkness After switching off the lights That's the moment you should be afraid of The few drawn out seconds That your vision is shrouded in pitch black as you wait for your eyes to make sense of your surroundings.

How many of those seconds before the outlines of your furniture come into view? Those are the seconds when you should be hiding. This is what my mother told me a long time ago, long before she passed away. These words have been stuck in my mind since the day I heard them, and they repeat themselves to me each night when I shut the lights off for bed. I keep a nightlight by my bedside. just like my mother always did. She told me this the day after my 11th birthday.

I remember because we had spent my birthday and a day trip out of town to celebrate. My day was filled with frolicing in the hot sand on the beach and taking countless ocean waves straight to the face. Needless to say, I was exhausted. It was around 9pm where we got in the door and I dropped my things in the hallway and dragged my heavy body to my bedroom. This moment should have been a blur, just like any other tired night. But after changing into my pyjamas and switching off the light...

Something happened. I switched off the light and the room around me became a dark void in every direction. My mother had kept a nightlight in my room for as long as I can remember. But tonight, I guess, the bulb had finally died. At that moment, I didn't give it a second thought. I had walked to my bed thousands of times up to this point in my life, and I knew I could navigate there easily.

I made my way across my bedroom, keeping my arms extended as to not bump into anything. Seconds passed of wandering across my room in the dark, and I had not yet reached my bed. I thought this was strange, but I quickly wrote it off as my tired brain getting me turned around

and lost in my own room, despite it being a straight shot to my bed. I squinted, and swivel my head around, looking for any recognisable outlines of furniture, but my eyes had not yet adjusted to the light. In all directions, it was pitch black. Again, I blamed this on the day spent in the blinding sun and began to wiggle my arms around while I walked, hoping to make contact with anything in my room. There was nothing. A crippling pain surged in my chest as I became overwhelmed with panic. I tried to turn 180 degrees as accurately as I could, hoping to dash back to the

light switch and flick it on. I took off full speed, but I never reached the wall. I never reached anything. My knees buckled under me and I collapsed to the floor, but there was no floor. No matter where I looked or how hard I failed, my surroundings had been replaced with an empty abyss. I opened my mouth and I screamed No sound came from my mouth but I could feel my vocal cords burning and vibrating

I continued to scream emptied my lungs several times over my face was wet with tears and my throat felt tore open but I never heard a sound I don't know how long I stayed in that gap of emptiness just outside of reality my mother said she had only heard

heard my ear-splitting whales for a second before she rushed into the room and switched the light on. I remember the look of my mother's face in that moment. It was the first time I'd ever seen a look of absolute terror on the face of an adult. My mother, the pinnacle of an unwavering spirit, looked completely broken. That night, my mom didn't let me out of her sight. She made me a cup of warm tea with honey to soothe my throat. She listened patiently while I told her what had happened, but she never seemed surprised.

She replaced a nightlight in my room with a new one from a box she kept in the closet. I slept in her room that night with the lights on. The next morning, she waited patiently for me to wake up, and she had a warm cup of tea ready by the bedside. She stood by until I was ready to hear the answers to my questions about the night before. She explained to me about an exit door to reality that can only be passed through in specific circumstances My mother told me that if a person stays in that blackness

For just a few too many seconds It will be lost forever It was then that the nightlights in every room of the house Made sense That was nine years ago And I've never made the same mistake again So why am I sharing this information now?

My mother passed away last week. I was the one who found a body. She was lying in the middle of a bedroom floor, the sun shining onto her through the window and her eyes swollen and bulging from her face. Her hands were curled in unnatural positions like a frightened animal. The following hours were a blurry mess, consumed by talks with the police and EMTs.

They told me then that the cause of death was a hard to. attack, confirmed days later by the autopsy. In an attempt to comfort me, they told me that it happened suddenly and was over all at once. They said she wouldn't have suffered at all, but I knew better. I still know better. My mother suffered immensely when she passed, and she may still be suffering now. I don't want to think about what it must be like for her right now. I just know that when I found a body that morning

I couldn't help but notice that the nightlight by a bed was burnt out. After my last post, I received a lot of messages encouraging me to go back into the abyss. It is something I had not even considered and initially I shut the idea down completely. It was difficult enough

just to write out the experience I had when I was a child so there was no way I would intentionally go back. I thought of it as a slap in the face to my late mother who spent my whole life trying to protect me from that. However, the more responses I received, the clearer it became that people genuinely believed there was a chance I could bring my mother back from the abyss. I slept on it, I waited a few days,

but the thought never left my mind. Each passing day, my head was full, filled with more guilt of the thought of leaving my mother alone in that void. I pictured her weeping, but no sound coming out, just like when I was lost in there. Her cries, her movements, her thoughts, all consumed by a starving darkness. I had to go back. I spent an entire evening corresponding with other users on here, making sure all of my bases were covered within reason.

I rode down each good idea and started planning. The first step was to reach out to a friend for help. I did this in the form of a lengthy message explaining everything. I wasn't sure I could face somebody calling me crazy to my face right then. I sent the complete message to a long-time friend, Mia. She knew what I was going through with my mom, and she had promised to be there for me if I needed anything. I know this probably wasn't what she had in mind.

I told her that if she doesn't believe me, then don't bother replying, but if she wanted to help, she could meet me at my house at a specific time with some extra supplies. Mia showed up two hours after I sent the message. I almost didn't believe it until I opened the door and saw her face. She had a backpack on and a look of determination that made everything else feel just a little more normal. I pulled her into a hug before either of us spoke a word, and we stood there in the doorway for quite some time. I don't think either of us knew what to say. I broke the silence.

Thank you. She stepped through the front doorway and put her hand on my back. It's what friends are for. I laughed for the first time in over a week. Not exactly. Mia started down the hallway toward my room while pulling off a backpack. I brought 150 feet of static rope, a timer, a tactical flashlight, and this She pulled out a long string

Of what appeared to be fairy lights I shot her a quizzical look She explained There for backup We can wrap them around you Just in case you lose your flashlight or something Their battery operated And it's just a quick button press to turn them on

She demonstrated by flicking a button At the end of the string and Sure enough The whole thing lit up nice and bright I had to admit It was a good idea I'm grateful that you came here, really. I couldn't do this alone.

She smiled at me while she continued to empty out the backpack. She emptied out several boxes of batteries and began separating them into small plastic bags. I stood back and admired her preparedness. We spent the next half hour checking and re-checking the supplies while waiting for the sun to go down. Once it was dark enough outside that there was no light coming in through my car. curtains, we figured it was time to start. I didn't feel ready, but I don't think I ever would have. We tied the static rope around my waist and practiced tugging on it, hard, to make sure it wouldn't come loose.

Meas' logic was that if I got turned around inside the void, like before, I could just follow the rope and it would lead me back to the door. We wrapped the fairy lights around my body loosely, but pinned securely to my clothes in several places. I took Mia's backpack full of assorted batteries for each of the lights, and I kept the flash I gripped tightly in my hand, but turned off for now. We decided that we would start with a 30-second timer, and Mia would switch the bedroom lights back on when the timer went off. Mia stood by the light switch to my room,

one end of the rope wrapped tightly around her hand. Ready? She looked at me in the eyes when she asked. I couldn't answer. I thought if I opened my mouth to try. reply, I might say no. I might say, this is silly, let's just stop it now and have a normal sleepover. Instead, I nodded and forced my lips into a hopefully convincing smile. The last thing I saw before the room went dark was the heavy look of unease in Mia's eyes.

Then, it was black. The room was so quiet that I could hear my own breathing. I could still feel my feet on the ground, so I began to walk in a direction. I kept my eyes squinted, looking for outlines in the inky darkness. Part of me hoped my eyes would adjust, and I'd see myself in the bedroom mirror, tied up with lights and rope, looking ridiculous. But they didn't. In fact, it seemed like my surroundings were only somehow getting darker with time, as if being washed away by an ocean of thick, black oil. I took a deep breath and realized then that my sound had left me.

I felt my lungs filled with air but heard nothing. So, this was it. But now what? My legs kept moving in a walking direction, but it ceased making contact with the ground. It was impossible to tell if I was even covering any distance at this point. In the void, my movements had no push back. When I tried to walk or swim or float, It was just flailing.

Moments passed, and the sense of hopelessness crept its way steadily into my mind. It was nothing for me here. The only physical sensation I could discern was my own heart sitting heavy in my chest. I decided I would just wait out the timer and then put this plan to rest. How long had it been already? It felt like it had been minutes, but I knew this was just my own anxious perception. Regardless, it could only be a few more seconds left now. I started to count myself.

One, two, three. I get my eyes wide open, waiting to be blinded by my bedroom light. I continued to wiggle my limbs around. There wasn't anything else to do. 10, 11, 12. Any second now. I waited. I tapped my fingers on my stomach.

with each second counted. 28, 29, 30, the light. Never came on. I stayed there, suspended in the void, counting each tap of my fingers. I counted past one minute. Past this point, I couldn't stop my mind from racing. I began to cycle through all the possibilities

of what could be happening in the real world. Why hadn't Mia hit the light switch yet? I remembered our fail safes. I began to frantically feel around for my flashlight. As soon as I made contact, I hit the power button. I could feel the warmth of the powered flashlight in my hand, but any light that would be emanating from it was instead being swallowed up by the void.

In frustration, I pointed the thing directly into my eyes. I could feel my retina stinging and my cheeks getting damp with tears. But I couldn't see a thing. I knew I was panicking. I could feel my own chest rising. and falling rapidly. I could feel the cool air entering my lungs, followed by the hot air exiting into the abyss.

I still had one thing left. The rope. I took a shaky breath in, not sure what was going to happen to me if I slid my hands down my torso in search of the rope. My hands stopped on the coarse material tied around my waist. I breathed a sigh of relief. I pulled the rope,

hoping to feel myself propelled to the rope. towards it, but the rope was slack. It was too slack. I ran my hand down the length of rope, and it was only a few seconds before it slipped out of my hand, and I realized I'd reached the end. The rope was severed when I passed through the darkness. Of course it was.

I had nothing left. My body felt tired, despite not moving much. My breaths came in short bursts. I couldn't tell if it was my mind. anxiety or if the void was closing in on me. I imagine myself being physically crushed by the darkness. I pictured myself suffocating as the abyss closed in on me. I began to lose track of which sensations were real and which I was willing into existence. I lost track of my body. I lost track of time. I don't know how long I spent like this. After a while, it felt like hours had passed.

I began to think about my mom. I wondered if this is exactly how she was. felt when she passed. Was she scared like me? Or did you feel prepared? I wondered how long she spent thrashing around, trying to fight back against the empty space. I wondered where she was now. Was she still out there? She could be right next to me, I thought, just out of reach, but I would never know. My thoughts continued like this for some time. My sense of time had left me long ago, but eventually I knew days must have passed me by. I'd reached the point of pure silence then. There were no more thoughts buzzing around in my head.

My anxiety had left me, and with it my inkling of humanity. I had no control over my movement anymore, or if I did, I couldn't tell. That's why it came as a shock to my system. When I heard a sound. Like a jolt of electricity through each, Each of my nerves came in noise from the distance.

My sense of distance was skewed, if there at all, but if I focused hard enough, I could hear it. I had nothing else I could do, so I just listened. The sound was somehow foreign yet familiar. I knew that I could pinpoint what it was with enough time, but I was so worried it would leave me just before I put my finger on it. The sound struck me to my core. This faint whisper of a noise shook my bones.

It was so soft, but I could feel it reverberate up my spine, down my arms and out to my fingertips. But what was it? I listened. I listened so hard that I was sure I had given myself a headache if I could feel my head. Then, it finally registered. I was hearing the sound of my mother's cries. a sound I'd never heard before. I was struck with a sense of motivation I hadn't felt in the eternity I'd spent in this void.

I'd have left for joy if I could control my legs. I'd have sprinted to water. I'd have held her in my weak arms. I never would have let her go. But then there was light. Blinding, burning, stinging, painfully intense light. Terrible light, dreaded light. The cries were gone and it was only light.

My bones ached. My head was full of a searing fire. My mouth was dry and my throat sore. The sound of a friendly voice nearby. So, how was it? Mia's voice, just a few feet away. I turn my neck, slowly, like a rusted gear. I tried to respond, but my buddy didn't cooperate.

I watched Me approach me with a glass of water. I was back in my bedroom There was another noise that had faded into the background An irritating beep on repeat The timer I used the last of my strength to sit up And Mia helped me to the bed She sat with me

An ego expression on her face As I gulped down the water she'd brought me My throat feeling slight relief I spoke Why did you leave me in there for so long What happened? My questions came out like venom. Mia looked at me like I'd slapped her.

She held up the timer, still beeping. The numbers flashed on the screen. 30 seconds. Couldn't believe it. Mia stayed with me for the rest of the night, but I wasn't ready to talk about my experience. She was understanding and she left the next morning. She told me to reach out when I was ready to talk.

or try it again. It's been several days since those events, and I've barely had the physical strength to leave my bed. 30 seconds in the abyss has wrecked my health. I've thought about going to the hospital, but I wouldn't know what to say. As I've recovered, there has really only been one thing in my mind. I have to go back.

I know it's crazy. I know I'll probably die. but I don't know what else to do My mother is in there I heard her cries Somewhere Beyond the darkness Days after my last venture into the abyss

I was finally feeling ready to get moving again I'd spent several days in bed Barely able to feed myself For a few of those days I really thought my body would give up And I'd wither away Part of me is convinced that the only thing keeping me alive

is the thought of seeing my mother again when I recover and return to the abyss. Yes, I was planning and returning to the abyss. At that point, there wasn't anything that could have stopped me. I truly hoped I could find my mother in there and bring her back.

I'd accepted that my next venture would kill me, but there wasn't any other option. Because of this, I knew I couldn't tell Mia about my plans. I knew she would try to stop me. I got my supplies together, just in case, and I waited until the last minute to send me her a message. In the message, I thanked her for all of her help

and let her know that she might not see me again. I figured she would know immediately what was happening, but by then it would be too late for her to change anything. With everything prepared, I stood in my doorway with my hand on my bedroom light switch. It took up until this point, But it dawned on me that I didn't really have a plan in place. I truly knew nothing about the nature of the abyss.

I could only hold on to the hope that I'd hear my mother's cries again, and I'd be able to navigate towards them. That is all I had to go off of. When I tried to picture a plan laid out in front of me, all I could visualize was that hopeless chasm I'd been lost in twice before. Each time I'd had someone there to pull me out of it. This time I was alone. But I'm not, I told myself.

Mom is in there, waiting for me. I remembered how long those 30 seconds had felt before, and I wondered again how Mom felt floating in that deep darkness for weeks now. Part of me hoped that in all of that time, maybe she had learned something about the void. Maybe she knew things that I didn't, and we could put our heads together to make it out alive. Another part of me remembered the way my sand.

slipped from my grasp so easily a week ago, and after only 30 seconds, I considered that my mother's brain could just be inhuman mush by now, lost to the clutches of the void. What if, by now, her soft sobs are gutted out and been consumed like everything else in there? I couldn't think about that now. I couldn't live with myself if I walked away from this. Soon, Mia might be knocking on my door, and then I'd lose my chance to make things right. I had to go. I hid the light switch. This time I didn't move. I just waited.

I tried not to count or focus my thoughts on anything. I didn't want to waste any time. I stayed put and anticipated my mind becoming unbound inside that endless room full of nothing. I waited my body melting away until I was just a point of consciousness with all physicality disabled. and then even that would be washed away into that now familiar sea of desolation. I waited. I thought I would be ready this time when I passed through the gateway out of reality, but it felt just as terrified as the other times.

No matter how much I mentally prepared myself, my animal brain could not find comfort in the darkness. When I could no longer feel the floor beneath my feet, I flare my limbs in panic. It was a wholly unnatural sensation to be floating but not falling. Like each time before, it was impossible to rationalise my silent but panicked breaths. I placed my hands on my face to shake for tears before I'd lost my physical sensations. My cheeks were damp and my eyes stung as I sobbed.

I wept for everything I'd lost and would lose. I wept for my mother and wondered if she could hear me somewhere out there, even though no sounds came from my body. I pictured the abyss as an entity with a gaping moor, gobbling up my tears. I recalled the way the light from my flashlight had been absorbed into the entity's stomach, always starving, never satiated. I envisioned it swallowing everything it touches, devouring the things I love the most, with no concept of remorse.

I was convinced that the abyss was gnashing at my bones, contoured to my flesh between its teeth. I couldn't feel anything besides the fear. I pictured myself at 11 years old again, staring the abyss in the face and having no idea. I remembered the way my mother listened to me, calmly. I remembered how she warned me about this and took precautions to ensure I never end up back here

in the belly of the inky beast. Yet, there I was. I let the abyss savour the taste of the taste of, my terror. This is what I deserved for daring to re-enter its domicile. I had been warned. I don't know how long I spent in its stomach. I gave up on any sense of time the moment I entered. I guessed that I was there for multiple eternities. It didn't matter because I knew I'd be there for many more. After some time, I'd lost touch with each of my senses, just like before. There were times I thought I also heard mere sobbing beside me, but I knew it was only my regret trying to manifest.

I knew I was being punished. It didn't ever last long, just like anything else in the abyss. I wondered if I would ever perish in there. The abyss had taken everything from me, except my fear. I wondered if he would ever show me that kind of mercy. I wondered if the beast would ever let me be at peace with my fate. I wondered if the darkness surrounding me, would ever feel like a warm embrace, but the abyss only ever seemed to punish me for my weakness.

It was only once I stopped my wondering that the beast returned my sensations to me. I thought this was what I wanted, until I realized that my sensations were given back to me in the form of cold hands pushing down on my throat. The force was jarring. I opened my mouth to scream, as if it would help, but it felt as though my mouth was filled with rushing water. I was drowning, being forced downwards

by something intangible. Why, I thought, but the void only answered back with more pain. The liquid darkness filled my ears, my nose, and finally my eyes. Somehow, my vision

was washed out with the darkness that was darker than the endless black of the abyss. Why? I tried to scream, but my lungs were full of the nothingness. My lungs felt like they would burst. I waited to blackout, but I knew that was impossible.

Not in here. I knew it was pointless to beg the void, but I couldn't help it. Please, I heard my own voice from my lips, a sound I thought I'd never hear again. My lungs were still heavy in my body, like they were filled with concrete. Yet I could hear my own voice. Please, I begged again. I didn't know what else to say. Make this stop.

It felt good to speak again, but I knew not to get comfortable. From above me, they echoed another voice. You have to relax, sweetheart. Perhaps the most tender sound I'd ever heard. My mother's voice. I gasped, and, instead of thick oil or concrete, my lungs were filled with a gentle, almost sterile air. I realized then that my eyes had been closed, but I don't know for how long.

I didn't think it mattered. When I opened them, I was greeted with the sight of my mother, about five feet above me, with a hand open and extended down towards me. I couldn't move to grab hold of it. I wanted so badly to take a hand and let her pull me out of this nightmare. I wanted to be in her arms. I wanted to cry again, just like when I was a child, lost in it. in this same void.

I can't, I spoke, trying to will my hands to water, but it still wouldn't move. A soft smile crept over her lips. You have to stop struggling, her words swaddle me like a warm blanket, but I felt frustrated. All I could do is struggle, I thought, doesn't she know that? As if she read my thoughts, my mother answered. You don't have to be. here, you came here on your own, but living in the darkness is no way to live. I hated hearing this.

A word stung like a hot blade to my flesh. I just wanted to save you, I squeaked out. At this, Mom moved closer to me. I don't know how she did it. Surrounding her and me was still the endless chasm of blackness that was the abyss, yet she effortlessly moved towards me. I still couldn't move. My senses were engulfed in a presence.

Her smell, her warmth. I could feel all of it as she closed in and wrapped her arms around me in a familiar embrace. At first, I fought back my tears, but I knew what mum would say. Don't fight it. I let them flow. The warmth of my own tears and my cheeks felt like pure relief. I sobbed into my mom's shoulder while she kept her arms gripped tight around me. It felt so good.

not to feel like I was floating away. Aren't you scared in here? My words stroked out, muffled by a shoulder. I peeked up to see her still smiling. I realized it then. She was just happy to see me. I felt her pulling away, and as much as I wanted to grasp for her,

I knew I couldn't. I saw her inhale as she spoke softly to me again. You have to go back to the light, sweetheart and stay there. This place isn't for you. You will grieve and slowly work your way back to normal. I know you can do it. I'll be waiting for you when it's your time. I love you so much and I'm so proud of you, but it's time for you to go home. I gazed upon the abyss as my mother's form was swallowed back up bit by bit. Wait, I wanted to scream. Don't go yet. I've barely said anything. I still wanted to tell you I love you, but I knew somehow that she already knew, and I knew what she would say, and I knew that she was right.

Just as the last of her form was drowned out by the darkness, that same darkness was replaced with a blinding light. This light was painful, but not unbearable. Following it was a consistent, mechanical beeping just near me, but I couldn't turn my head to see what. was making it. I squinted and waited for my eyes to make sense of my surroundings. I could hear mixed voices, chattering away nearby. I took a deep breath in, loud enough to make a sound. The air tasted smooth and clean.

I heard the sound of quick, excited footsteps behind me, and then a figure in my field of view. My vision took its time to unblur and focus. But when I did, I saw Mia stood at the foot of my bed. except it wasn't my bed. I was in a hospital bed. Behind her followed a nurse with a clipboard in hand. I could see the sun coming up to the hospital windows.

Mia spoke first, with the widest grin her lips would allow. You're awake! I could see her bouncing on her heels. She turned to the nurse. Can I hug her? The nurse nodded and replied with a smirk. It's not like I could stop you before. Mia nearly tackled me with a hug.

I thought I would fall out of bed if there weren't guards on the sides. Her embrace was warm and I hoped she wouldn't let go. She didn't. She only buried her face deeper into my neck. I could feel her arms trembling around me and the words came out in whimper's.

I was so worried. You weren't answering your phone or anything. When the paramedics got there, they said you'd been passed out for hours. Mia took frantic breaths between words. I was so scared. I felt my hospital gown getting wet from her tears.

I must have my strength to lift an arm and drape it around her. I'm sorry. My voice came out in a quiet rasp. I wanted to say more to comfort her. I wanted to let me know that it wouldn't leave her again, that I planned to push forward and pass the darkness. Somehow, though, just like my mom, I knew that she knew, and I knew that she would be there for me while I worked my way back into the light and beyond the darkness.