The Wayward Stolen

People around town have been stolen by the forest for generations. Very few have resisted the calls and lived to tell the tale, and the ones that do often avoid speaking about it.

My older cousin escaped. Barely.

The voice that called him sounded like me. It was the only reason he went into the forest; he thought his 5 year old cousin was crying out, lost in the woods.

He regrets not getting an adult, but he was 15 at the time; "I" didn't sound too far in and he thought he could just grab me quickly and bring me home himself.

So he walked out into the forest alone; I watched him. I heard strange voices too.

A long while passed and I nervously watched the shadows move with the moon. I wanted to get help, but I was so young, I thought if I just stood by my window, my cousin might see me and come back.

The next morning came, and he still hadn't returned. The adults went looking - they spent all day. I cried myself to sleep that night.

They found him days later, and brought him home.

But he's never been the same.