It’s always been a long way home. Even as I pull into the drive way, I’m still over two hours away. The path to the house is long and winding as it snakes its way through the pine forest. The darkness of the trees has always affected me. I hate it; I hate them. I left this place so long ago in order to escape them, but here I am, back where it all started.
       Don’t get me wrong, the forest is beautiful in the morning sun. The way the dew glistens and sparkles on the pine needles like the stars in the night sky. The way the mist flows like a river around the trunks. But at night, when the glimmer is gone, and all the light has been devoured by the shadows, I can’t help but shake.
       As I continue down the rough, rocky dirt path I tremble more and more. The sun passes completely behind the trees. One by one, small solar lanterns come to life faintly illuminating the narrow path. I soldier on through the darkness as it reaches into me. I had only been walking for twenty minutes when my heart rate sky rockets. All I can view are the lanterns and stones lining the path, and the dark silhouettes of the tree trunks on the pitch black forest.
       By the end of the first hour my heart was beating double time, my eyes darting from side to side, but what I saw I knew couldn’t be real. In the darkness, the trunks became torsos; following me, running after me, yet running away. I turn to face them listening as the sound of my foot falls stops. Yet, somewhere behind me in the darkness, there are more. I whip around, just to see more trunk torsos. I continue down the path more briskly, almost at a jog. It follows me onto the path. I spin around again, and once again, it disappears. I turn back to the path to see the pale skinned face with sunken eyes of my childhood friend, Algar Lowell. I hadn’t seen him in all of those years that I was gone, but he still looked exactly the same.
       "Hello,“ he sighed.
       "Where did you come from Al?”
       "I was waiting for you,“ He stared into my eyes and shifted onto his other foot. "Your parents told me you were going to be coming home.”
       "They did?“
       "Yeah, and it’s been a while, so I figured…”
       "Yeah, it has been… Look, I’m really sorry I never came to visit you.“
       "It’s okay, I understand.”
       We continued walking toward the house. The wind began to blow, causing the needles to rustle. I flinched at the sound. It haunted me, terrified me.
       After a few minutes of walking Al finally spoke again. “Y'know what?”
       "What?“
       "I really missing living here.” He said, his eyes drifting off toward the night sky and the swaying tree tops. “I miss the cold nights, the warm breezes.”
       A tear rolled down my cheek. “Algar.”
       "I miss seeing the cars go by. I miss playing in the woods. I miss y-“
       I cut him off. "Al, I get it, okay? I said I was sorry. I apologized.” The tears came like 40 days of rain. “There was nothing I could do. I was too scared. This is all my fault and I know it. Okay?!”
       I looked up, but there was nothing, only trees. I started sprinting down the path, the dark figures once again following me as I ran.
       I stumbled into the clearing of my home. The rusted nails and charred wood of the crumbling structure stared back at me. I walk in, each step causing more chunks to fall from the walls and ceiling. I wander through the rooms to the center of the house.
       I tear the wall away, revealing the roof’s support beam. I kick it with all my might. Again and again I attack the post. I go on for hours and hours, until the obstacle finally gives way.
       I wait for relief as it falls from the sky. Large crunching, burned pieces as they land. Then it’s gone. The terror. The pain. Gone. My parents greet me, bringing me to Algar, and our story fades away.

       The End.