text: I hate my life. Everyday I come back to the cabin and I’m reminded of how everything went wrong. I look at all of the framed pictures of a life that I left behind, and I’m tempted to end it all. The face of my beautiful dead wife, Sarah, paints my walls like a fractured memory that still burns every time I see it. She went missing a year ago, and the feds called it off after a month. I was angry, I was hurt, and I was scared to continue on without her. She always loved taking strolls through the forests that surround our cabin, and since she’s been gone, every day I feel the urge to walk into the woods and not return. Every day I tell myself no, but today I felt as if something was pushing me into the forest. I fear for tomorrow. I don’t know what I was thinking, walking through the brush and tall grasses that litter the forest floor. I was still in my formal clothes from work, so my khakis started fraying at the leg and my loafers began to get caked in dirt and soil. My tie now had a large rip in the bottom after getting caught in a rose branch. Sarah would be so angry, seeing me this dirty. I had been walking for at least an hour. I don’t know what was pulling me to continue delving deeper into the wood, but something had a strong grip on my psyche. I felt that I wasn’t in control of my own body as I pushed on through the foliage. I stopped to take a deep breath. The smell of rain filled the air as dark grey storm clouds crept across the sky, tainting the bright magnificent blue with an ugly, depressing silver. I listened as the crack of thunder boomed loudly from a distance, which immediately followed with a sparse pattering of raindrops on my head. I knew the storm would only grow worse as the night grew on, and yet, I continued walking. What am I looking for, Sarah? I thought to myself. Is this you pushing me forward from beyond the grave? Are you my guardian angel, keeping me far away from our house so I don’t end my life? Do you simply wish to show me something? Something that will somehow give my life meaning and make me want to stay alive? You know I don’t believe in symbolism. You know that was always my least favorite part of English class. So why then? I spoke aloud to her. I said, “why am I still here, Sarah?” I knew I wouldn’t get an answer, but I still yet felt disappointed when she didn’t reply. I continued walking. My legs grew tired and lifeless, and I was beginning to itch in the back of my throat. I needed water. The rain was still scarcely dripping down from the sky at that point, so I wouldn’t have been able to find a substantially sized puddle anywhere. I listened for the sound of a rushing river, or perhaps I would see a deer rush toward a pond somewhere. I checked the leaves that dangled from the oak trees surrounding me to see if any of them would offer even a palmful of sustenance. The leaves crinkled to dust as I touched them. I continued walking. I lost track of time, but at this point the rain had completely stopped. The sun was still hidden behind large tufts of cumulonimbus. The wind blew harsh cold that had the strength of a fully grown man. It took my tie and my glasses with it as it passed. My stomach growled fiercely with every other step. My spine tingled and sent waves of goosebumps down my arms and legs. Maybe I could find some berries on a bush? I wouldn’t even know if they were poisonous or not. I wasn’t even sure if it would be dark soon, I left my watch at the cabin, and I’d be damned if I was going to try and find my way back there. I continued walking. The night sky eventually exposed itself, but the black and grey twirls of clouds remained, covering a majority of the stars that dotted the sky. The moon itself was hidden behind a cloud, leaving only a shred of light amongst the darkness. I found a log that I figured would be good enough to use as a pillow as I gathered a plethora of leaves to use as a shoddy makeshift blanket. I knew I wouldn’t be warm through the night, but at least I’d have something resembling a bed. I scraped my head against the log to somewhat make myself comfortable, which decidedly was a fool’s errand. I looked up at the night sky, the stars that were partially visible gave me enough hope to continue walking the next morning. I awoke the next morning with a stiff neck and back. With a few good twists I popped and cracked all the way down my spine and along my neck. Strangely, I awoke with no more itch in my throat and no more growl in my stomach. Unless I walked while I slept and somehow found a four course meal with water and wine, I knew that something strange had to have happened that night. “Sarah?” I said out loud. “Did you take care of me last night?” The limbs and the leaves of the trees rustled in the wind and the cumulonimbus clouds parted to reveal the sun. A single ray of light cast down from the sky and through the many branches onto a single spot on the ground in front of me. I made my way to the spot on the ground and looked up at the sky. “Sarah?” I asked again. “Do you want me over here?” The tree limbs rustled in the wind again. “Is something buried here? Do you want me to start digging?” The branches rustled. I knew it was her. I got on my hands and knees and clawed at the earth. I was usually a bit of a prude when it came to dirt underneath my fingernails, but the determination to dig was overwhelming. I dug and I dug and I dug until the tips of my fingers were numb and bleeding and it seemed like I would never leave fingerprints again. When the hole was seemingly deep enough, I grabbed a branch that I deemed large enough to use as a makeshift shovel and stabbed it into the ground. I worked diligently as I chipped and chiseled away at the soil that Sarah asked me to dig into. I was terrified, yet I was excited to see what I might find buried. My worst nightmares came true as I finally discovered what was underneath my feet. A pink, flowery dress, covered in old dried blood that wafted a pungent rotten smell into my nose. Then, beneath the dress laid a skull. It was only the top half, but there was an unmistakable hole that splintered into cracks throughout the right side. “Sarah...is this you? Are you buried here...?” The breeze rustled the branches. “Sarah...did someone do this to you...?” The branches rustled once more.