My eyes flutter open, and I realize I'm leaning against a rough tree trunk. The forest around me is dark and eerie, with only a sliver of light peeking through the dense canopy. I'm panting, my breath coming in short, painful gasps. Each inhale feels like fire.

I touch my stomach instinctively and almost black out again. My hand comes away sticky and warm. Blood. I've been shot. A bullet hole gapes in my abdomen, radiating sharp pain and overwhelming heat.

I need to do something, anything. My mind races. Movies. I remember seeing someone use their shirt as a tourniquet. It's not perfect, but it's all I have. I tear off my shirt and wrap it tightly around my waist, trying to stem the bleeding. The fabric darkens with my blood. I lean back against the tree, gritting my teeth against the agony, trying to catch my breath.

Footsteps. Branches cracking. Voices. Two men, talking, getting closer. Panic rises in my throat. I hold my breath, trying to stay silent, but they keep coming. They're almost here. I look around, gauging my options. Running is out of the question; I'd fall immediately. Crawling? They'd hear me for sure.

I close my eyes and begin to pray. "Please, God, please. I'm only 22. I have a daughter. Don't let me die like this. Not here."

The footsteps stop right in front of me. I open my eyes, tears blurring my vision. Two hunters stand there, camouflaged with bright orange vests and shotguns in hand. One, an older man with thick-rimmed glasses, bright blue eyes, and gray hair, kneels down beside me.

"Honey, we are not going to hurt you. Calm down," he says softly.

I look at the other man, younger, with dark black hair and the same blue eyes. He must be the older man's son. Horror fills my eyes as I stare up at them.

The older man looks at his son. "Looks like that wasn’t a deer after all. Call the ambulance, now!"

The younger man looks as if he's seen a ghost. "What the fuck, Pops. What have we done?"

"I don't know! Call the fucking ambulance before she dies!" the older man yells.

My vision blurs, and I feel myself slipping away. I go unconscious again.

When I wake up, I'm on a gurney, the men are still there. The younger man is sitting on the ground, rocking back-and-forth and sobbing uncontrollably. The older man is talking to the police. He looks relieved but guilty, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he continues explaining to the officers. It was a total accident. I was walking through the forest on my way home when they mistook me for a deer and shot me. And here I was thinking some psycho in the woods was trying to murder me… Maybe I’ll lay off of the true crime podcasts for a while. And I think I’ll definitely find a new route home