I sat down on a rock, my feet already sore. The bag beside me felt heavier than it had ten minutes ago. I let out a long sigh.
Maybe this was his plan all along.
Maybe Ezekiel didn't just want me to escape. Maybe he wanted to haunt my father. Let him believe I got out. Let paranoia eat him alive. Meanwhile, I'd be slowly unraveling out here, alone, in the middle of nowhere. Stranded. Losing my mind.
I rubbed my face, glanced around again. That same damn tree. The one that didn't fit. The one that didn't feel like it belonged here.
I blinked.
…Was it closer? I blinked again. Okay, no, seriously, it was definitely closer. But it hadn't moved while I was looking at it. My stomach turned.
"Why do you keep following me around like a dog?" I muttered, my tone sharp, like a teacher asking a kid why they bullied their classmate. I stared at the tree, hard. Like if I glared long enough, it would crack and confess.
Yeah. I really lost my mind.
I stood, slinging my bag over one shoulder and shoving my free hand deep into my hoodie pocket. Fine. If the only time it didn't move was when I looked at it, then guess what? I wasn't looking away.
Challenge accepted.
My eyes were practically glued to the tree while i was moving backwards, like some deranged amateur actor in a horror film who thinks eye contact is enough to ward off ancient curses.
I stepped over branches, stumbled through leaves, narrowly missed slipping on a very judgmental-looking rock, and the whole time, I kept whispering to myself like a lunatic.
"Yeah, that's right. I see you. I'm not stupid. You move the second I blink and now I've got beef with a tree. That's where I'm at in life."
I don't know how long I kept this up, five minutes? Ten? An hour? Time has a weird way of melting when you're spiraling. Eventually, I got cocky. My brain decided to get clever. I thought, "Maybe I'll blink one eye at a time and catch it mid-move."
Genius idea, right?
Except I forgot one crucial thing: walking backwards in a dense forest full of sharp, unforgiving nature is a terrible plan. So naturally, I hit my head. Hard. On what? I have no idea. A low-hanging branch? The universe's middle finger? Something smacked into my skull and I went down with all the grace of a wounded squirrel falling out of a tree.
I lay there for a moment. Dazed. Humiliated. Deeply offended by gravity. "Awesome," I groaned, one hand cradling the back of my head. "If the tree doesn't kill me, the forest will. Five stars. Would recommend." I tried to sit up and immediately hit my elbow on a rock. Another solid hit. Beautiful. My whole body was starting to feel like a bruised fruit.
Eventually, I staggered to my feet like a baby deer on stilts and started trudging backwards again, mumbling curses under my breath. I wasn't watching the tree anymore. I was too busy fighting the throbbing behind my eyes and fantasizing about drop-kicking Ezekiel straight into the sun. That's when it happened.
I tripped. I don't know what it was, a root, a rock, the ghost of my dignity, but I went down face-first, and because I'm me, I did it with maximum dramatic flair. Eyes squeezed shut, arms flailing, the full thing. I landed hard and laid there, hands digging into the earth, my bag flopped beside me like it, too, had given up on life.
For a moment, I didn't move. I just breathed. Dirt in my mouth. Pain in my ribs. Defeat in my soul. I reopened my eyes slowly, preparing myself for yet another round of "How Will Nature Humiliate Noah Today?"
And that's when I saw it.
The tree.
Directly in front of me. I mean nose-to-bark close. Like it had teleported there just to spite me. I scrambled backwards so fast I practically crab-walked into a bush.
"What the—?!" because what else do you say when an actual tree defies the laws of physics?
It didn't move. Of course it didn't. It just stood there, mocking me with its bark and silence and the general energy of something that knows more than you do. I glared at it. I really, really glared. Like I was trying to set it on fire with pure annoyance.
Then I saw it. Something was carved into the trunk. Thin, shaky lines, like it had been etched by trembling hands or maybe something dull and rusted. I leaned in. One word.
"Remember"
I froze.
The world got quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Not the kind that makes you think of birds and soft winds and gentle revelations. No, this was the kind of quiet that hums. Like a warning. Like the forest itself had paused to let that word sink in. I felt it settle in my chest like a stone. Heavy. Familiar. Dangerous.
"Of course," I whispered. "Of course you want me to remember. That's the whole game, right?" I pressed my palm against the carved word like touching it would help me understand. Like it would trigger some glorious flashback that explained everything. It didn't.
All I got was splinters. "Thanks," I muttered, pulling my hand back. "Truly helpful. Very enlightening." I stepped away from the tree slowly, heart still pounding. Part of me wanted to bawl my eyes out. Another part wanted to laugh. Most of me wanted to punch something, preferably a tree, but not this one. This one would probably punch back. I don't know how long I stood there, staring at that word.
Remember.
It felt like a threat. Or a promise. Or both. I sat down again, this time more deliberately, because clearly rushing through the haunted forest was getting me nowhere but bruised.
The tree didn't move. But I didn't take my eyes off it. Just in case. I leaned forward slightly, still eyeing the carving.
Remember.
I exhaled, slow. Something about the word felt… alive. Like it was pressing into me now, from the inside out. Like it wasn't just carved into the bark, but carved into me.
Then-
A shift. Not in the wind. Not in the branches. But in the air. Suddenly the forest wasn't just a forest. The trees blurred slightly at the edges, like I was staring through water. My breath hitched.
And then I saw her. Just for a moment. She was standing between two trees, a few feet away, almost exactly where the shadow of the branches made the ground darker. I couldn't see her face. Her whole form was half-cast in silhouette, like a veil of shadow had decided she wasn't ready to be fully revealed.
But I knew. I knew it was her. My chest tightened like my lungs had forgotten how to work. My mouth went dry. She stood there, arms crossed lazily, like she was waiting for me to catch up. And then, her voice.
Sarcastic. Dry. Familiar.
"Noah, you better remember me. even if- "
I blinked. She was gone. The trees were just trees again. The world snapped back into painful clarity. My head was throbbing, and my heart wouldn't calm down. But I swear, I heard her laugh, faintly, echoing somewhere between the leaves and whatever the hell was left of my mind. I stared back at the word on the tree like it had just punched me in the gut.
Remember.
I rubbed my face, suddenly exhausted in a different way. Not physically. Not even emotionally. But something deeper, like remembering her meant cracking open something buried too deep for language.
Something dangerous. Something real. "…Right," I muttered. "Let's just start with not dying in the woods first."