The Unknowing
“Don’tbeafraid”
Nina Blixt
AWalk
Outside, theleavesare falling— bloody, leavingred in differentshadesalong thepath. Ifeel as if I’mwalking througha vein, treesstretching toward me, theirbranchesdarkand crackedlikeold veins underskin.
Theair turnsheavy, confusingmymindand body bothofwhich know this feelingtoo well. Ipullupmycollar.
My fingersare as cold as thefeelingcrawling down my spine— danger.
Thewindsnatches my hat, drives me into thewoods.
Ican’t help butfeeluneasy when Ihearbranchescrack outofsight,out of control.
Thesound shifts: aheadofme, behind me, to theright, to theleft. My breathingchanges quicker now.
An icygustofwind throws me down to thewet ground as if it’s decidedI belong there, to become one with theworms. It makesmefeelI’m worth… nothing. As if it whispers: Staythere, so youcan’t see.
Down on theground, Iclenchmyfists, pressing hard into themuddy moss among theleaves— determined to getout of thewoods.
Itakea breath.
One. Two... andthrow myself up.
Butthe gust keepsforcing me down harder,colder.
From down here, it lookslikethe treetops aresinking, pressing theair outofmy… lungs.
Asuddencrack punchesthrough my eardrum, likea slingshot fired by someone aware. Someone near.
Isit up, forcedly —and as quick as lightning, I’mthrowndownagain. What Ifeel comesfroma giantfist, stealingmybreathaway.
Idarenot breathe.
My eyes search around, filledwitha fear worsethan... death. Thecrackingsoundsare sometimes rightbesideme— then,ina sudden moment, faraway, likesomethingteasing my senses.
Ahorrorfeeding my mind with fear. Somethingthatwants my soul. I’mlosingmymind.
Okay...juststand up.
Just do it.
Okay,you candoit.
Ilie still... waitingfor something— from somethingI don’tknow.
Though it’s cold, my heartslams inside my chest, telling me to rise.
Slowly, Ilie with my face down... my breathsfollowmymovements, making my heart scream inside, andmakingmylungs forget their— purpose.
Iwobble up, trying to keep my balance.
Trying to see.
Somethingmoves throughmy weteyes.
In ahasty blink, Itry to focusonthe object. Thetears warm my cheeks butonlyfor amoment.
Here,onthisspot Iwanttorun from, Ifeel astrange comfort. Like it’s my home.
If Ileave, I’ll hitthe ground again. Amomentpasses. Nothingforcesmedown.
Clarityawakens me:
—Ha! Wasthisonlyinmymind? Ican’t believeit.
My firststeps toward sanity arefollowedbysteps increasing in speed.
UntilIstop— suddenly locating thecrack in front of me. Then asecond.
I’mrunning formylife.
Deeper into thewoods.
Away from thething whowants my fear… and, obviously, my death.
—Leave me ALONE!
My tearscan’t fightit as Irun.
Butthe cracks aremuch faster —and determined.
Play
It’s as if thething wantstotellme to stay in itscompany. Wantingmeto runfaster... as if Ihaven’t hadenough.
AndI’m running as fast as Ican, untila brutal bang smashesintomyback, sendingmetothe ground likea missile.
It’s quiet... I’mnot shaking. Ibarelybreathe. Abird’slatesong cuts throughthe silence.
Youfeel it before youunderstand it.
Awalk into the forest.
The Unknowing is apsychologicalhorror shaped by sensation and instinct -where the body feels before the mind understands, and something unseen moves closer
Told in fragments, the story drawsyou into aspace
Apresence that does not leave. withevery step. where fear is not always seen, but deeply felt.
Youmay not see it.
It feels youbefore youfeel it.