Medicine in my bag Walking away from Life itself Traveling to be alone for once I killed to many people I tried to heal They think I I did on purpose Or that im a witch But I didn’t they Were poisoned I tried to tell them it wasn’t me That it was the village chief But no one believed me So I was sent out of the village And it’s fine I will do something with my life Leave them stranded I will still help poor souls But no one from my village It’s what they deserve for what they done

I knew it was time to move on when even the trees around me wispered about me in the dark. I had to move on. I had to leave the world behind. But the trees knew my face, the the white cloth could hide my shame. Only toook a suitcase. I left my humble cottage in the woods. I left it all so I could be a solitary being. The black clothing hid my shame and grief. The leaves rustling mocked me. The sun was done shining for me. Now it’s weak light was just an annoying glare in my eyes. So I left and didn’t look back. Best decision of my life.

Don’t you see it? You and me, we are the same. I can help you. Just put the gun down.

I know what it feels like to be judged. I understand why you’re scared. Our brains work differently. We are unique. Just put the gun down.

I’m sorry to do this, But if you don’t put the gun down I’ll have to take it. We are the same, We are sick and disturbed and Disgusting. Just give me the gun.

Just Give It To Me

Bang bang bang

If you would’ve given it to me You wouldn’t be here On the ground Dead.

I’m sorry. I’ll take your bag and leave And I’ll take the gun with me.

And I’ll just put it down too. Because when you listen to me, You live.

You never know what you’ll discover in the woods.

I sat in my rocking chair contemplating what to do about what I saw.

In all honesty I didn’t really want to get involved. Them spiritual matters didn’t suit a man like me, and I never particularly enjoyed being part of the resolution process.

I let out a long sigh with a smile.

The thing is, totems aren’t usually an issue really. They’re inanimate creepy looking things for sure, but they’re not hurting nobody. It’s not like they can talk.

But as I was trudging around in the woods minding my business with a cigar and a holstered gun,

I heard something whisper to me.

It was goddamn creepy I’ll tell ya that. Nearly jumped out of my skin. Couldn’t even see it at first. But the whisper was right in my ear.

So naturally, I do what any bored ol’ man would do right? I investigate.

I discover this woman looking thing.

It’s got a white napkin type covering on its head, holding a suitcase dressed in black. Looks like a nun going to a meeting.

I was about to chuckle at the description I came up with before I heard the whisper again.

A much, much louder whisper.

Now you gotta understand, I was pretty damn creeped out by now. Most issues in the woods are solved by a couple rounds, so I unholster the gun and load a few.

I point it at the totem.

The damn thing is looking directly at me.

I mean the cloth was still over the head so no idea if the eyes were…like I felt like it was looking right at me. It was enough to make me think twice.

So, maybe I won’t shoot it. Felt like I was about to commit a crime against a principle of nature or something. Or worse.

I put the gun away, I turn around.

I hear the most spine chilling noise I’ve ever heard in my damn life. It was just plain disturbing, sent all kinds of shivers through my fingers, and I couldn’t even describe it to ya.

I spin around to see it right behind me.

Centimetres away.

I haven’t ran so fast in years, but the fear that possessed me sent me flying down that path back home. Damn near sprained an ankle or two.

So now, back at the cabin sitting at the fireplace…no idea what to do about that.

Maybe it’s best to leave well enough alone ay?

I let out another sigh, the smile still firmly pasted on my face. What a damn day to be alive.

I lit a cigar, step outside,

and there in the distance,

stands the nun looking lady.

Far enough to feel safe from, close enough to feel slightly threatened.

“So, that’s her huh?” Isaiah asks. The woman creeps him out. Although he and Jeremy have sought cover behind some trees, he’s not entirely sure she can’t actually see them. He can’t believe Jeremy actually agreed to this.

“Yeah.” Jeremy exhales. He rubs his hands along his pants. “That’s her.”

Jeremy’s obvious nerves don’t make Isaiah feel better. “Man,” Isaiah scans his surroundings. “Why the hell did we have to come out here to the middle of the woods to do this? We’re just begging to get murdered!”

“These were her terms.” Jeremy doesn’t so much as glance at Isaiah. He can’t take his eyes off the woman. “Just stay here. She never even has to see you.” He steps out from behind the tree and makes his way towards the woman.

Isaiah almost calls out to try and stop him but his voice catches in his throat. He watches helplessly as his friend marches across the forest. The woman’s head tilts to the side as Jeremy approaches her. The movement sends a chill crawling down Isaiah’s spine. Jeremy stops a few feet from the woman.

She doesn’t acknowledge Jeremy’s presence. The two just stand there for a while. Isaiah can’t hear anything the two are saying. He thinks about moving closer.

The woman raises the satchel and holds it out to Jeremy. The bag sways in the air, almost like it’s too heavy for the woman. But her arm is steady. It doesn’t look like she is struggling with the weight.

Is something in the bag moving?

Isaiah leans forward to get a better look. The bark digs into his palms.

Jeremy glances towards Isaiah for a brief moment, then his gaze darts back to the woman. There was fear in his eyes. Jeremy takes a step back. Isaiah wonders if he’s he’s having second thoughts.

“C’mon Jer. Just walk away.”

The woman extends the bag closer to Jeremy, it lurches. He stumbles backwards and ends up on the forest floor. Isaiah jumps back from his position in the tree-line. Jeremy scrambles to his feet, never once taking his eyes off the woman.

The bag swings in the air between the two of them. The woman’s outstretched arm remains perfectly still. The wind whistles through the forest’s trees. Leaves tumble across the floor as a chill spreads through the air.

Jeremy slowly reaches out a hand and takes the bag from the woman. His arm drops to his side from the weight.

Just who the hell is this woman? What the hell is she?

Jeremy struggles to hold the bag in front of him with both hands. The woman’s head snaps towards Isaiah. He gasps and throws himself behind the tree. His breaths are heavy and quick. His heartbeat thrums in his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut.

He forces himself to breathe slower. Though he can still feel his heart beating in his chest, he forces his eyes open and peers around the tree. The woman is gone.

Isaiah pushes himself off the tree and scans the forest. There is absolutely no sign of the woman anywhere. Jeremy stands alone in the middle of the woods, holding the mysterious bag the woman gave him at arms length.

Isaiah makes his way over to Jeremy. He scans the forest as he does, trying to see of she ducked behind a tree or something. As far as he can tell, she is just gone. “What happened?”

Jeremy looks around, dazed. “I don’t know.”

“Well where did she go?”

“I don’t know.” Jeremy’s voice is shaky. His looks at the bag still in his hand and drops it on the forrest floor. There is a heavy thud as it hits the ground. The bag rocks side to side. Whatever is in it grumbles and growls. It calms down once the bag goes still.

Isaiah and Jeremy look down at the bag and then up at each other. Jeremy steps towards the bag. He gently pokes it with his toes. Whatever is in the bag growls. It jostles the bag back and forth. Isaiah and Jeremy both stumble backwards.

They look at each other. The thing in the bag gives one last huff. The bag goes still again. Jeremy glances up at Isaiah. He looks curious, if a little hesitant. He crouches down towards the bag.

“Woah!” Isaiah cries. Jeremy looks up at him. “Woah, what the hell are you doing?”

“I was gonna take a peek inside.”

“Are you crazy?” Isaiah hisses at him. His nerves begin to twist themselves into a knot in his stomach.

“It’s what we came here for isn’t it!”

Was it? Had life really gotten so complicated?

Jeremy reaches out toward the bag. He unclasps the latch keeping it closed. Sweat gathers on Isaiah’s palms. His eyes flick to Jeremy. Jeremy looks up at him. Isaiah’s mouth goes dry. He doesn’t trust his voice to work so shakes his head.

Jeremy looks back to the bag on the floor in front of them. He reaches out for it and carefully pushes the sides apart. Isaiah can’t help his curiosity. He leans forward to take a peak inside.

“What the hell?”

Along the sleepy hollow, in the dead of night. As the wind whispers vehemently, giving me a fright.

I know a Cailleach is lurking, fingers long and gnarly. Like old branches twisting across the night’s turning tide.

Hair a tangle of brambles, her eyes covered in moss. And yet still seeing everything never blinking, eyes locked.

Hearing my feint footsteps, as I navigate the road. This time will she reveal I wonder, with a shiver?

Do I want to see her face, all shrivelled up and bitter? Am I ready to make it so do I want her to be known?

A thousand years of haunting, and yet, now almost forgotten. In the depths of briny mud lingering on, rain-worn and fed up.

Stalwart and obedient A model child I did what my mother told me Never asked questions Or showed obstinance Raised to fear God And fear it was As damnation loomed constantly In my fragile heart

They sent me away at sixteen To a convent Where women dressed identically A black-and-white silent film Devoid of substance I didn’t object It was not in my nature If this was God’s plan for me So be it

I became a clone of all the others Whatever I used to be Faded into the empty halls And repeated prayers Eating the same meals every day The color drained from life All to give way For a focus on Christ

And I wanted to, truly Dutiful as I was But I could not find Him In this our daily bread Nor in the cobblestones I’d counted again and again And even the crucifix on the wall Seemed to tell me It didn’t quite know what it represented

I watched the other Sisters Emulating the way they sang ‘Glory be to God in the highest’ Trying to discover the meaning They derived from the reiterating Like cogs in a well-oiled machine They lived each day clockwise The same way each time Never shifting Or asking why

I wrote to my mother Crying alone on my mattress To see if she would explain What any of this meant Why I was here And if it was my destiny to wander These monochromatic halls Until my eyes can no longer make out The portrait of Christ In the chapel

In a letter weeks later She said not to write her anymore The letters stopped coming No longer the perfect Obedient child I had opened a sinkhole By asking a question By daring to wonder I was swallowed up By my own inquiry

If that was the world One where questions were sinful Where answers were secrets I couldn’t stay In this Abbey of riddles If I was to know anything at all I had to leave To run To be free

All that I had was but little That fit in one bag I did not tell the Abbess When I fled in the night Finally breaking the habit No longer so acquiescent But ready to finally ask And to finally know

“Life has been busy I'm sorry I couldn't be there sooner some things just got out of hand but I'll make the trip tomorrow,” I said when I called my mom for the first time in years the call index on my phone piled up to 120 missed calls and voicemails tomorrow turned into a week then a week into a month Until six years

I'm sorry I haven't been living the life you wanted me to and I'm sorry for being rebellious when I was younger I never should have stepped into that bar but I'm ready to be the person you want me to be as I said to myself while driving home I pulled into the driveway got out of the car then walked up the sidewalk to the porch I felt my hands shaking would I be welcomed back bad thoughts fled into my head I shook away the anxiety knocked on the door then waited She would have come to the door by now I went around back through her flower garden to the back door and came inside she always left the back door open I went inside when I got to the living room she wasn't there so I checked the kitchen and her bedroom then, at last, I checked her study room and to my horror there laid her lifeless body with a her phone inches away

(Three weeks later )

My mom is gone she passed on the house it had to go I couldn’t pay the rent I was sitting on my couch reading the words she never spoke she was battling cancer I never knew, In her voicemails, it sounded like she wanted a better relationship. If I had only called things would have been different Mom I'm sorry! I love you. But no amount of words can bring you back because you're gone.

My father is constantly firing the maids. Says to them they have let him down and he has no choice but to let them go. It’s why I don’t care if one isn’t nice: they’ll only be here a few weeks at most.

This is why I just ignored the new maid walking through the forest when I was out playing, she looked firm, but young. The young maids never last long. Inexperienced - that’s what father says about young maids.

Later that night I was brushing my hair and she came in. She looked at curiously, as if I was some random stranger who broke into the house.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Emma Fording, my father hired you.” I reply.

She looks confused.

“Mr Fording didn’t mention anything about a child?”

“So?” I say.

“So we are going to have some issues.”

I shrug.

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t be here long.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“No maid has ever lasted more than a few weeks.”

“Well, I’m not just a maid.” She turned to leave.

I sat there confused, what does she mean by that.

The next day I found out.

I came downstairs to see the maid talking to my father. Father was standing there looking drowsy and repeating what ever she said.

“You shall not fire me!” She said sternly.

“I shall not fire you.” Father mimics.

She walked past me going up to the bedroom.

“You see,” she said, “I am not just a maid. Behave, or you’ll be next.”

I stand there open mouthed.

I don’t think this is just another maid.

The door— no no, the window, June told herself that a door would be much more dangerous so she was willing it to be no more than a window— flickered once but never lost the image seen through it; the woman in the dark, dark wood.

June cleared her throat again, still not brave enough to actually call out, to get the attention of the planeswalking thing before her. It would be like saying your nightly prayers and then hearing God respond. Quite the shock.

She watched and watched, wondering how long the anomaly would remain before it winked shut forever. If it ever did.

When June finally pried her eyes away to ensure that no one else was around, that the window was private, the window shifted. She whipped back expecting to see nothing but instead saw the Walker; the woman in the dark dark wood, now, for the first time, regarding her, sightless but seeing.

June stood there, petrified and now willing the window to close.

It did not. And when the woman in the dark, dark wood made a move through it, she knew that it was a door after all.