Creepy - Melt Man

Episode Date: September 6, 2021

The worst kind of deja vu...***Written by: Ryan Peacock***Bonus Episode: "A Place You Might Find Yourself" written by AuthorJoJo and narrated by Michelle Kane***Content Warning: Mental Illness, Suicidal Ideation & Self harm***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Sound Design by Pacific Obadiah***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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slash creepy pod. And just quick FYI, we are officially booked up for October, so we won't be taking any more submissions at this time. But please feel free to continue to send your submissions for Patreon and our Sunday narrations. Just 25 days to go

before our fifth 31 days of horror kicks off. We've all been hard at work to get this October prep, and by latest count, we have, well, we have the most content we've ever turned out for one October. No spoilers, but it's a lot. In the meantime, no. This is creepy.

A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing and disturbing creepypastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Creepy Presents Melt Man. Written by Ryan Peacobot. I don't know if this is going to go through.

I hope it does. God, I fucking hope this gets through. If I don't make it out of this, Brooke, I need you to know that I love you. I love you more than anything, and I can't stand the thought of you waking up tomorrow and thinking I just left you behind. If I don't make it, I hope you'll know where to look and you'll know that I love you. you. I don't see him right now. Maybe that means I'll be okay. No. No, I should know better than that. Everywhere I go, he's there. Just ahead. I keep expecting to look up and see him standing underneath that street light or to see his shadow in the fog. Maybe he won't approach the car. He didn't seem to

move much before. Although I never stopped to give him much of a chance either. Maybe I'll be Okay, maybe. God, please just let me make it out of this alive. Okay, let's dial it back here. Let's start at the beginning. My name is Darren, and last I knew I was off Highway 24 just outside of Paris, Ontario. I think I'm still close to there. I took a few turns, so I'm not entirely sure anymore.

I haven't recognized the Rotemond for some time now. The map on my phone doesn't seem to work anymore. But I can't be that far away. I've had insomnia ever since I was a kid. Back then, I just never wanted to go to bed. Nowadays, I just can't shut my brain off sometimes. Sometimes I'm thinking about work. Sometimes it's just anxiety.

Sometimes I just feel like I didn't do enough during the day. Sometimes it's just straight up existential terror induced by pondering the mysteries of the universe that you never seem to think about until you're trying to sleep. When it gets like that, I find that going for a drive helps. It gives me something to focus on and it grounds me for a bit. I like that. For a couple hours, it's just me on the road. Usually I'll listen to podcasts while I drive.

Horror podcasts are my favorite. I've got a list of recommendations a mile long. Some people act like I'm weird for listening to scary stories while I drive through the dark and back roads. Personally, I find it calming and it helps me get more into the stories. I've been going for a lot of nighttime drives lately. Working from home and being cooped up doesn't really work for me. I never used to love my commute, but I find myself missing it more and more lately, you know. Anyway, tonight I couldn't sleep, and that was nothing new.

There's nothing specific on my mind. I guess I just felt restless and the idea of going out and driving along the back roads and listening to a couple of podcast episodes seemed appealing. My girlfriend, Brooke, was already in bed. She doesn't have quite the same problem nodding off that I do. Between the two of us, I'm the night owl. She knows about my late-night drives. No point in keeping it a secret from her.

If she was wandering off in the middle of the night, I'd probably want to know where she was going. I know she finds him a little odd, but she never tried to stop me or anything. They're just one of my eccentricities. everybody has at least a couple It was a little after one when I went out to my car Our street was dead silent

I like it when it's quiet like that It feels so strangely peaceful Like I'm the only person in the world There's not another soul in sight out there And almost no other sounds I got into my car, cut up a podcast And pulled out onto the street There was a bit of mist illuminated by the street lights

I remember thinking that it was kind of pretty and added to the atmosphere or the liminal space that my street had become and I liked it. When I drove through it, the mist swirled past my windshield and accompanied me through the quiet streets as I made for the back roads.

The back roads are dark, quiet, and lonely at night. You don't often see other cars and that's the way I like it. Occasionally, there's the odd hyper-masculine lunatic in a pickup truck who decided that going 10 to 20 over the speed limit isn't enough. So after blinding you from behind with their headlights, they rocket past you, usually without signaling, and disappear into the night.

I only saw one of those tonight on the way out of town. I wonder if he ran into the same trouble I did. Would it be wrong for me to say that I kind of hope you did? Yeah, yeah, it would be wrong. I drove one of my usual routes, a highway that took me through one of the local, small towns in my area. There's lots of them, more than I could possibly list. My plan was to do a circuit once I hit a larger city.

It'd be roughly a two-hour drive, but I knew I'd come off of it, feeling refreshed. I'd just passed the main drag of that small town when I hit an empty stretch of road. It was dark, see if the odd streetlight, and there was nothing on either side of me but farmland and the occasional patch of forest. I didn't drive too fast. It was a deer country. I've seen enough carcasses on the side of the road to know to be careful. I've been lucky enough to never see a deer in front of my car.

But if I ever do, I'd like to be as careful as possible. I must have been about 45 minutes to an hour out when I noticed that I hadn't seen any road signs in a while. Like I said, this was one of my usual route, so I had certain landmarks that I recognized as I passed them. Usually there were signs known in what small township I'd entered. Most of them had interesting names. Some of them were kind of silly. I hadn't seen a sign in a while, though. Come to think of it, I couldn't clearly remember the last sign that had passed.

I didn't think too much of it. The road I was on run straight with a few side roads coming off of it. Most of them are little dirt roads that I'd prefer not to drive on at night. I took a look at my car's clock to check my town. and saw that the numbers were all scrambled though. Now, that was kind of odd. I'd never seen that happen before. I wondered if there was something wrong with my battery or if my stereo was crapping out.

I couldn't see the time on the dashboard either. Those readings were weird too. My engine temp had gone down to zero. My speedometer seemed to twitch more and my gas gauge kept moving back and forth in the weirdest way. The hell was this? Some sort of weird glitch? Maybe it would be smarter to turn back, just in case there was something wrong with my car. I pulled over to the side of the road and parked, waiting to see if the issues would sort themselves out.

There was a lonely street light just ahead of me, but I couldn't get a good look at the landscape around me. I assumed it was farmland, but it was too dark to tell if there were any houses nearby. I checked my phone. The signal was spotty, even if I wanted to call for a tow or something. I wasn't sure I'd be able to. I tried to open up the internet to look up my issues with limited success. My connection was spotty as hell, which was weird. I'd never had problems out this way before.

I was fucking with my phone when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye, straight ahead in the direction of the street light. I looked up just in time to see the shape of someone in the darkness ahead of me. Then as soon as I noticed them, I couldn't help but stare. Who the hell in their right mind would be walking along a road like this in night? It was pitch black. They would have been easy to miss. They could have got themselves killed.

It was around then that I noticed they were headed towards my car and I wondered for a moment if maybe they'd run into the same issues I had. Shit, maybe they were looking for a ride. My car was still running. I'd never really picked up a hitchhiker before. But if they were having problems too, it seemed like the right thing to do. I rolled down my window, which also glitched out a bit. I had to fight it to get it down. And called out to the stranger.

Hello? They didn't respond. They just kept getting closer and closer. For a moment, I wondered if it was even a person and not a deer had somehow mistaken for a person. Then they stepped into the light and, well, let's just say that it didn't make figuring out just what they were any easier. I'd say that it looked like a man, but only in the absolute vagus sense of the word. A man might not even be the correct word to use here. It looked more like a plastic action figure or something that had been partially melted

than allowed to cool down again, or some kids attempting to draw a person come to life. The face was... Jesus. That thing's face just looked warped and contorted. One eye drooped down lower than the other. The skin looked rubbery and moved all wrong. In some spots it seemed too soft. In others it saved off that thing.

The skin was a pale orange and the eyes were shiny and beady. The mouth just sort of hung open and a perpetual dopey grin. It looked like it was naked. Although I couldn't see any signs of human anatomy on this thing. The body looked just as melted as the face with drooping fold. hanging down. It seemed to shuffle forward with an unnatural stiffness that was uncomfortable to watch. Staring at this absurd thing, all I could do was blink and disbelief. The melted man came to a step beneath the streetlight and stared back at me. Then he raised one hand with six fingers of varying

length and he waved at me. I swear that I saw his stupid grin growing wider as he did. That was when I lost it. Look, what I just described may not sound all that creepy, but tell me what you'd do if some weird meltman shambled towards you from the side of the road. I threw the car and drive and got the hell out of there. As I left the thing behind, I saw it in my rearview mirror. It turned around to face me, and it was still waving. The sight of it sent it chills through me.

I tore down the darkened road until the meltman was gone. Then I tried to make sense of just what the fuck it was I'd just seen. That wasn't a person, right? There was no way in hell it could have been a person. No person could possibly look like that. Maybe it was a suit of some kind. Yeah, that's it. It had to be.

It was a suit or something. Some asshole was probably just chilling out in a lame monster suit and trying to spook whoever was passing by. Good prank, very funny. I'd probably be on some... Idiot's YouTube channel or something now. I was almost starting to laugh it off when I noticed another streetlight about the exact same streetlight on the same side of the road, and beneath it, there was the exact same thing,

raising a hand to wave at me again. I felt my blood run cold, its hand waved back and forth. I saw the skin shifting from either side of it as if it didn't quite fit its body just right. They was still grinning. I couldn't see any teeth in its mouth. But in the yellowish light from the lamp overhead, I could see a river of some clear liquid dribbling out of one drooping corner of its mouth. Something about the sight of that turned my stomach a little. No.

No, this wasn't possible. I caught myself just staring at as I drove half in disbelief, half in terror. I almost veered off the road. I only barely managed to correct myself in time. The meltman just kept watching me, hand raised and greeting the whole time as I left him behind again. Again, he disappeared into my rearview mirror. His eyes still focused on me. My heart was pounding.

There was no way in hell they'd put two assholes and bad costumes along the stretch of highway. If they did, they'd have some fantastic fucking dedication to the stupid prank of theirs. And why hadn't I passed any road signs? What the fuck was wrong with my car? Everything was still on the fritz. I was pretty sure that part wasn't a prank. This didn't make any sense. Up ahead, I noticed a glimmer of another vehicle at the side of the road.

Light mist swirling around it, and I caught myself slowing down slightly, wondering if maybe it was someone else caught in the same bizarre situation that I was. There were no lights on. No sign that the car was even occupied. was it abandoned? Who the hell would leave an abandoned car on the side of the road? As I got closer, I got something of an answer. The driver's side door was missing.

It looked as if it had been ripped clean off. The car set forgotten like an empty shell, and the sight of it sent a sickening chill through me. I rolled past the empty car staring at it. It looked like a newer model, Not brand new, but new enough. I never thought to get the license plate. Maybe if I did, I could give someone else some closure.

No, I just kept driving, feeling my pulse racing faster than before. I gripped the steering wheel tight. A hat I could see another car at the side of the road. A different one. I had to veer into the next lane to avoid it. Passing by, I saw that this one had a shattered windshield. I couldn't help but imagine the screaming occupant being dragged out. I didn't want to imagine just what it was that was dragging him out either.

There were more cars ahead of me, more than I could count. But it wasn't until I saw that goddamn streetlight again, with the same melted figure waiting for me beneath it that I thought to turn around. With my heart racing, I pulled into a hasty three-point turn that nearly took me off the road. The melt man just kept waving at me as I did so. smiling that same goddamn dopey smile the whole time. Even when I sped back the way I came, he just wave. Why wouldn't he wave?

He probably knew it was only a matter of time until we saw each other again. He'd be waiting for me under the next street light, or the same street light. Hard to say. I didn't remember seeing so many abandoned cars at the side of the road, going back the way I came. There was one every couple of kilometers. All of them with doors torn off or the windshield smashed. Sometimes both. One had the fucking roof torn right off of it.

All of them were empty and forgotten. Some were even starting to rust. God only knew how long they'd been there for. I kept driving. I kept driving for as long as I could. Sometimes I'd see a streetlight with a melted man beneath it, waving jovially at me. I just drove past him and tried not to look at him.

I drove back for a hell of a lot longer than an hour, but the sky didn't get any brighter. I kept passing vacant cars, and it was never the same car twice. Each one was different. Some of them didn't even look like makes and models I'd seen in Canada before. Some of them looked old as if they'd been sitting there for decades. Every now and then it'd see.

a street light, and he would be under it, waving at me like nothing was wrong. I kept trying not to look at him, as if maybe if I ignored him enough times he'd ultimately go away. He never did. I kept driving into the darkness. My clock still wasn't working, but it felt like I'd been driving for longer than an hour, maybe two or three hours. I should have been back home by now, But the road didn't change. There are no turns, nothing on either side or me but heavy forest as far as I could tell. Just an empty highway with more streetlights waiting for me ahead. Each one with the same goddamn meltman waiting for me beneath it.

I ran out of gas about an hour ago. My gas gauge is flipping between empty and half empty. But the car won't move anymore. The engine just turns over if I try to start it. I can't keep moving. I'm not sure it would matter even if I could. I feel like I've been out here for hours. Maybe it's been days.

I'm getting tired of running. There's a street light ahead of me. There was nothing there before. Although I looked up while I was writing this and saw him. He was waving, still wearing that dopey fucking grin of his. I just looked up again. He's closer than he was before. He's probably just teasing me,

having as much fun as he can before he pries open my car like the rest. I've considered trying to make a run for it, but I don't know about my chances. I've got a feeling it won't save me. I don't think there's any way out at this point. He's getting closer to the car. I've got a bit of a signal.

I try calling someone, but I can't seem to get through. I'm going to try posting this. Maybe it'll manage to get out there. I hope it does. I really, really hope it does. Maybe it'll save someone else's life. I'm going to die here, aren't I?

Jesus Christ, I'm going to fucking die here. Brooke, I'm sorry. I love you. For your bonus episode, creepy presents, a place you. might find yourself, written by author Jojo and narrated by Michelle Kane. You might not remember how you got there, where you were coming from, or where you were

going. Sometimes you get a warning that you'll be taken there, and sometimes your eyelids will flutter, and you'll arrive there without warning. You might visit the place often and be intimately familiar with its inner workings. You might make it decades into your life before you ever see the place. Hell, you might not even realize you're there sometimes. You might tell yourself that you aren't, that you're completely fine. At least that's how it is for me. I often wonder if the place looks the same to the other people, if it feels the same. I know other people go there. I see it all over. I see people talk about it on internet forums and hear about it through distant chatter and supermarkets. So many people go there.

Some people have it so bad when they go there that sometimes they just don't get out. I worry that when I go there, I won't make it out. When I sit with that worry, I'm so afraid of the calming comfort it provides me. but the lump that forms in my throat when I think of my friends and family hurts so bad it stings and I end up hating myself for even considering that simple warmth

for being so selfish sometimes that thought alone is enough to bring me there I went there a few days ago I think that's why I'm writing this I saw someone about the place and they told me it might be beneficial to write about it. So here I am, admittedly tearing up a little, but I have to get through it.

That's kind of the point of the place anyways, just trying to find a way to get through it, I think. It was one of those times I could feel the place creeping up on me, but I thought if I just tried hard enough, I could outrun it. I was driving. Driving always makes me so nervous. I'm a good driver, and I've never gotten into an accident, but I get these thoughts. I'm told they're intrusive thoughts, and everyone gets them, but they're so horrid. I imagine taking my hands off the wheel at a busy intersection, and the world just goes quiet as I blow through a red light, or I see myself pushing the gas down and pulling off the road, wrapping the front of my car around a pole or a tree. I see myself, head laying on the dashboard, watching the world go dim outside of a broken windshield.

Those thoughts, I hate them. I despise that my brain can conjure such painful and unforgiving imagery. My hands were starting to get sweaty, gripping the steering wheel. I didn't realize how tightly I was grabbing it until I glimped the altered shade of skin on my knuckles. It was foggy out, hard to see too far in front of me, and the only landscape I could observe were the scarce trees at the side of the road. I felt so isolated, that feeling is so ever-present in that place. I knew it was coming, and I couldn't stop it. My chest was heavy. Trembling hands pulled the key from the ignition.

My focus shifted all over the car. It was coming at me like a freight. train and I was powerless to stop its monstrous advance. Sitting up straight in my seat, I could feel the waves washing over me. They grew and grew until it feel like I had been hit by some cinematic tsunami, washed away all the will I had to avoid that place. And just like that, I was back there again. I opened my eyes slowly. I didn't remember ever. I didn't remember closing them, but that place will do that to you. A forest. I sat in a small clearing, surrounded by trees so thin and tall it was any wonder they had the strength to grow so high, that they were

able to pierce the gray sky above. The trees always start so thin. Pulling myself to my feet, I looked around. I knew the place well. I had been there several times before, but being there never feels right. It isn't supposed to feel right. The way the trees seemed to be scorched black, as if each one had been tormented by strokes of lightning. The way the ground was so littered with leaves, so red, they felt digitally altered. Yet none of the trees ever seem to have leaves clinging to them. Sometimes I'm not sure what to do when I first arrived there. What direction to begin walking in or should I stay put and collect myself. This time, though, I suppose I decided to start walking, though.

I don't remember making that choice. I hoped I would be able to escape easily this time. There are times when it's so hard to get out and I feel like I'm stuck there for days. But there are brief moments of respite when the forest is only small and I spend only a few minutes. Though it became apparent, this would be a tough. when I heard a voice whistle through the trees, carried by a wind I couldn't feel. Words that carried doubt and struggle flooded into my head when that motionless wind struck me. The voice is mean, an unkind torrent of words, but they always seem to pain me even if I know

them untrue. The voice tells me I won't make it out this time. If it was just the one voice, I think I would be okay, but the further I walk, I hear others. Similar messages, but different words and tones. Each of these statements feels like a creature gnawing away at my calves, trying to drag me to the raspberry leaves below my feet, trying to get me to yield to the place. You'll never be good enough. You've wasted so much time not trying.

You aren't talented. people are just nice to you. They feel bad for you. You should stay here. Stay here. You're useless out there. It's like the air there is different. It is so hard to catch your breath walking through the trees uncertain of direction. Every bit of that place is designed to make you feel tired and powerless to pull away from it. The whole place is like an ecosystem, some large creation that's thrives off the suffering it provides you. As I continued to walk, the trees grew larger, and the spaces between them got tighter. The leaves on the ground piled up and became denser. Placing my hand on the trees for support, I pull myself smaller spaces and weighted through resilient foliage. The voices got louder and meaner, until they almost take on a physical form,

wrapping around me like tendrils pulling me back to impede my advance. I just wanted to get out. I didn't want to be there anymore. It's so tiring, though. I can't help but think about letting the forest floor take me. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? To lay down on a soft bed of leaves and slip away. Wonder what would happen then? I wonder what the figures that watch me in the place would do. Dark silhouettes, vague shapes of humans that can only be spotted briefly in between the trees. The further you go, the more of them you can see. They just watch. I wonder often what it is like for them in that place. Were they the figures of those before me that simply were unable to make it out of the forest? Is that life easier? Is it

better to just exist as nothing more than a passing memory than it is to escape knowing you'll return someday? The spaces between the trees were getting so small. I don't think I'd ever seen them get so small before. I thought about the isolation I had felt in my car mere moments ago. I thought about myself sitting there alone. How long would it be before another car came along? Would they stop for me? Would they look for me after finding the car empty? Would they ever be able to reach me in that place? Could anyone?

Reaching my arm through the gaps between the trees, I placed my hand firmly on the tree and began to pull myself through. I could feel my clothing being dragged by the ragged bark of the tree, clinging to each imperfection. My arm shook, pulling my torso through. I felt such an overwhelming weakness as my stomach cleared the opening. I couldn't say how long I had been in there, but once my body was clear of that opening,

I knew I was spent. My body crashed to the forest floor, kicking up a plume of red leaves around me. It was soft, though, almost welcoming. Half of me was swallowed up by the sea of leaves that accumulated during my advance. The other half, often, me a vision of the forest before me.

There was more darkness than there were gaps between, said darkness. Light teetered out until it was nothing but trees. I was still, but I could feel a great trembling as I laid there. There I realized that the trees and the figures that watch are when in the same. I'm not sure I ever caught on to that before. The beings were tall and shifting. They shuffled forward. responding to my thoughts.

Thoughts about how maybe this time I'll just stay there. It felt so nice. The comfort of the leaves felt like finally getting to lay on your bed after days away from it. Moving my arm, I gently grabbed one of the leaves and held it in front of my vision, blocking out the trees behind it. My arm, what had I done to my arms? Small lines of raised skin ran. at my forearm, almost like tally marks counting the times I had gone to this place.

My mother was so terribly angry when she saw my records. I thought a lot about my mother laying there. Turning onto my stomach, I looked at the trees before me. The space between them seemed impossible to conquer. I thought that I should try, that if I was just going to let myself lay there and rot, then I should at least give it a shot. As I got onto my knees, I could feel the forest floor attempting to resist me.

I heard the voices grow louder and more violent. Even the trees seemed to bend above, reaching down towards me. Determined, I moved forward, eyeing the gap between the trees. Reaching my hand through, I grabbed the other side of the trunk, embraced.

Pulling against the forest, will, I pulled forward. I could see it to just barely the other side of this place. I could see light. I so wanted to be in that light. The leaves below me started to rush, flowing away from the exit like a river. God, no, no, I couldn't let it take me back. I wanted to fight. I pleaded for the chance to fight. Fingernails dug into the tree trunk and defrable. I didn't care if my fingernails were pried away from my skin. I pulled. Gritting my teeth, I strained every muscle I had. With my head through, I reached back with my free hand and emptied my pockets so nothing got caught on the gap, throwing my cell phone and wallet over my head and

into the clearing inches away from me. I continued to pull. Please, one inch after the other, that's all I needed. My chest once again cleared the gap. I could make it. That's when the trees closed in. Intense pain shot through my body originating at my stomach. The trees or the figures had shifted and closed in on me. I fought as hard as I could.

Shoes dug into the ground behind me, trying to find purchase. Fingers clawed at the dirt in front of me, desperately trying to clear the forest. And the forest was silent, giving way for a voice, just one, to reach me in a final attempt to keep me in that place. You're going to live a long life if you leave, and you'll have nothing to show for it. You're going to let yourself and those close to you down time and time again. You're better off here.

They're better off if you're here. The tendrils accompanying those words were fierce. I think it's because that voice sounded so similar to my own. I had never heard myself be so mean before, though, so I almost didn't recognize it, but deep down, I know it was my words, my voice. I and the plays had both played our final cards to end the struggle one way or the other.

I could see myself, head laying limp on the dashboard, looking out at the world through a broken windshield, fragments of glass laying on the black hood of my car, like little stars twinkling under sunlight. I could see myself in the car, motionless, stuck in this damn forest. Were those words true? Is that how I felt? I want to make my friends and family proud of me. I want to help them when they need help. I don't want to disappoint them.

With making them suffer one great sorrow, alleviate a lifetime of small grief, I felt my body going limp, my mind going blank, staring at visions of myself. The forest, that place I found myself time and time again. I think I was ready to rest. It's a scary thought, but I had tried. I did. I fought, and it just wasn't enough. I was sorry, but the place won.

I would fade and make up the trees for another. That's what I think it wants. Like a virus, it takes you, and before long, someone close to you visits. And the cycle has continued. This great march through the place is a never-ending one. I had only wished at that moment I had the strength to say goodbye, to tell everyone that it was my fault, that I just wasn't strong enough, but I had nothing left.

So I prepared to be eaten by that place, to fade. Sweetie, are you there? The voice. I knew it. I thought it was coming from the forest, but when I raised my head, I saw my phone screen light up. A call that had just begun seconds ago. On the screen read, Mom. Are you okay? I stared at the screen for a moment, breathing being caught by the clamping of the trees.

When had I called her? When did I reach out? It's okay, baby. You don't need to talk. I'm here, okay? I'm here for you. Her words offered a chill. I felt my eyes getting hot. I felt the fog dissipating around me, the isolation, lifting.

I lowered my head to the dirt and pressed against it, letting hot tears pour from my tightly shut eyes, letting my mouth contort in ugly and twisted shows of pain, letting my heaving breath come out in awkward and uncertain breaths, a mixture of trying to hold in tears and realizing that they were okay to let out. Mom, I trembled through struggling breath. I don't think I'm doing so well right now. I blurted out, rolling over, feeling the grass around me.

My body moving around as if conducted by spurts of mental uncertainty. It's okay. I'm here. Let it out, she replied. How were her words so soft? It felt like she was laying there with me. I opened my mouth, clutched the ground, and as she said, let it out. Everything I had been building up exploded from between my lips. A howl I never knew I was capable of. A mammoth of wailing shook the tears clinging to my cheeks. The forest, that place, shredded apart. Trees thinned and faded from view. Leaves lifted and flew far, far away.

The only voice was my own, overpowering and strong. My throat was going rasp, but it felt so good. heat in my chest igniting as I brought my fist down on the soft grass over and over. And then, truly, my energy was spent. I laid a long time looking at the phone, listening to my mother, offering a response whenever I was able. Eventually, I got up and made it to the car. After I had managed to calm down, though I'm not sure how long that took. My mother stayed on the line as I drove, making sure to keep small and innocent conversation.

I'm not foolish. The forest isn't gone. I will return to that place someday. That place doesn't just leave you. Sometimes you can make it easier to escape, but it's always there. It's hard to know how to get out sometimes. even harder when you believe you have to make it out all by yourself. But there are so many people who have been there. So many people have visited that place. Some people can be your guide and some people can just be there for you, even if they've never been there themselves. You're not alone and you are not weak.

The place pulls you in. it's like a poison you can't pull from yourself. There are ways to make it easier, though, to find your way through the trees. You can reach out to a friend, family member, or hell, even a stranger. If you need to, you can reach out to me. I've been there. Over and over, I've been there, and if I can help you.

Even if you just need someone to listen, someone can do that for you. Don't feel ashamed or lesser. because you've seen those trees and felt the leaves beneath your feet. You are wonderful. Fighting against that forest is hard, but it is brave. You must be one hell of a person to still be here when you've seen that place. Even if you haven't been there yourself, to help and understand those that have, it is monumental.

I hate when people get preachy. I know. But the fog will lift. The gaps will widen and the voices can be silenced. It's never easy. It's not meant to be easy. When you're in that place, though, you are not alone. You are loved. Just please, please keep walking. Keep fighting. I want to see the wonderful things you can accomplish. on the other side. And when the trees feel too hard to get through and you feel like you don't have the energy to fight anymore,

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