Molden sat by the edges of the lake, alone almost abandoned, still basking under the light of thousands of stars. The winter breeze burned his cheeks, but his focus was on the whistle sounding from the trees on the west side of the cabin. One tree had very narrow leaves, and it was shorter than the rest and more pointed too he never really knew the name of this odd tree. It let out an almost wailing sound as the air sped through its leaves. He heard the gentle tone, but he couldn’t understand, yet it did appeal to him. A year ago, Molden and his cousins made their annual trip to this cabin down the city from North.

credit @www.reddit.com

The winter here was more bearable with no snow and minor storms. Many families happened to come here, making this a ‘holiday destination’ if we can call it that. His primary attraction to this place, however, took the form of Katrina a slim, brown-skinned, hazel-eyed girl. One year was a long time to dream about a fellow being, but to him, this was a goddess straight out of mythology. They weren’t strangers; when she saw him, she ran straight into his arms for a warm hug. They both spent the evening together, and her parents didn’t mind her spending the nights there even though they had no parental supervision on the cabin, just cousins and friends. Beer and weed were almost a tradition in the evenings, but tonight one of his older cousins called Zack came up with a wicked twist. He packed two dozen pills. “Moll meets Molly, your new soulmate, she fucks you up so good you’ll forget to breathe” he sold the idea to Molden. Kate was more of a party girl, so she popped one first and stared into his eyes, pressuring him to join her, well He did join her, I mean who wouldn’t. Time passed by as they held each other until he felt relaxed yet too distant. The drugs had kicked in. The pair were so close and hot that they were uncomfortable after a while. Now the decision was made to skinny dip in the freezing waters to cool off the excess heat. The boys were visibly excited and rushed into the water to hide it.

Molden joined by his mate for a brief session of silent eye-contact. The world changed before his very eyes; he saw her face melt and her speech incomprehensible. It was panic mode on as he ran out of the water naked and straight into the forest held hostage by a feeling of an inevitable apocalypse. As sudden as it all began, he collapsed, paralysed. He could only hear the trees as they whistle in their exceptional tones; the short tree danced to the direction of the wind. His young body couldn’t handle the fabricated drugs. He lay there, feeling himself lose his mind before passing out. He survived luckily, but at a cost, as he could not regain all memory and half of his body function.

credit @dreamstime.com

The winter still calls him to the lake shore, the stares don’t seem to shake his core, but the whistle of the trees hint at the end of a nightmare.

Written by Sarah Deslie