Laying in her dark room

Heart aching, chest tight

Holding her breath involuntarily

Tears wet her face, the need to inflict pain into her arm suffocates her

Outside she hears the wind howl through the darkness

It’s calling again

She follows the whispers into the night barefoot and desperate

The trees are massive, strong, and twisted

The forest becomes more immense as she follows the winding trail

Leaves fall to the grown,

The smell of the green decomposing is powerful

Looking for familiarity in the shadows

Are there footsteps leading the way through the dirt and vegetation?

Her hands touch the saplings

Feels rough, though comforting

Grounding herself through each stroke of the bark

Recent rain left the scent of yearning in the air

The damp, aromatic oils released into the breeze

The moon providing the only glow of light in the darkened woodland

Varied earthy tones are inhaled into her lungs

She grows hungry as the journey continues

Tasting the berries explode

Tart and sweet on her tongue

Tickling her taste buds and dissipating the deep hunger

A gust of wind picks up

Alluding to the return emergence of showers

Once again, she hears the howl

Calling her further into the unknown

The trees are so thick now she can barely see the luminescence

The whispers get louder…

Where are they calling her to?

Why did she evacuate the safety of those walls?

Running into the darkness without abandon..

Did she feel safer in the vastness of nature than in her home?

All her senses are magnified, her heart pounding faster..

Louder….

The thumping is deafening

Causing the fear to rise in her throat

Where is she being led?

Who are “they”?

Unsure of friend or foe, helpless except to trust the sense of familiarity

The thoughts are not hers, though it is her voice

The whispers are not manifesting from her own thoughts

Why is it comforting, nevertheless?

Reaching the edge of the forest, the moon once again illuminates the way

Her eyes adjusting from the obsidian night

Feeling sand beneath her feet

Cool breeze coming off the water hitting her face

At last, she hears it….

The water crashes into itself as the tide comes ashore

Tears wet her cheeks, recognizing home

The water, it calls her

The forest grounded her

She is at peace within herself

The whispers fade to silence

The call home…

Far more substantial than intrusive thoughts and suggestive whispers

“Don’t hurt yourself sweet girl,” it pleads…

The call of the void can’t reach you here

By Becca Hulen

From: United States