The crooked tree of my dreams is real. Yet no one believes me. Every night I wake there. I can’t seem to get away from.

Tonight I lie in my bed my partner watching me to make sure I stay put. I fall sleep into a dark slumber and all is peaceful

Yet when I awake next I am by the crooked tree my partner is no where in sight. “Why shall I wake by the crooked tree?”

I ponder over and over.

Thus I begin my long path back home my feet bare and without socks. From around me I hear voices calling out to me. “Luna! Luna!”

Over and over. They want me to go to them. Deeper in the woods but I know better I shall not go.

On this evening on my trek home I see a young whom I’ve never seen before. Her feet are bare and her hair is a mess. She is in her pjs and she looks sleepy. I walk to her and ask, “Sweetie, are you lost?”

The little girl looks at me and says, “Every night I wake up under the same crooked tree.”

I blink jerking back. That voice. It’s mine. It is mine from when I was a child at least. I remember like it were yesterday. Had someone asked me that? I do not know.

The child turns away and says, “I must go home.”

“I must go home too for I wake by the same crooked tree every night.”

She nods and walks off. Her last words still on the wind, “Never walk into the woods.”

I swallow hard before I return to my path home. At home I find my partner sleep and I wake him. He jerks and I say, “I was by the same tree again.”

“Go to sleep.” I nod

But was it all a dream for I must never go into those cursed woods.