The hardest part about camping alone is that there’s no one to talk to. But it’s nice to only hear crickets, alone in the woods. It’s getting late…
It was dark out, and so quiet.
Then I heard it.
The footsteps sounded from everywhere. But when I looked, I saw nothing. The only thing between me and it was the canvas of my tent. And in that moment, my senses betrayed me. The shadows started dancing, and the crunch of leaves and twigs turned into demented laughter.
A scream, then silence again. Not even crickets.