Chapter 43: The Crow

Back at the treehouse, August sent Greta a text letting her know what number to reach her at.

'Hi Greta, this is August!'

'Hey sis! I'm coming over tomorrow with Sam and his mom, Sylvia. She is a reiki master and lovely person in general. Does 9 am sound okay?'

'Sounds good!'

'Great. Are you doing okay? Graeme told me he had council work tonight.'

'Yep! All good here.'

'Okay, sis. I'm sending a link for meditation I want you to check out. I think it will really help! Let me know if you need anything, okay?'

'Will do. Thanks, Greta!'

With that, August pulled out the paper and drawing pencils Graeme had gotten her and drew the curious crow she had met in the forest, embellishing it with an aura that seemed to shimmer around it, accentuating the glimmer of light in its eyes.

"I never brought you that pizza crust I promised, huh?" she said to the paper in front of her. She sighed and returned to the kitchen to retrieve the box of donuts. 'The tree and its roots are safe…' she recalled. With the new phone in her pocket and her camera around her neck, she took the box of donuts with her outside, descending the steps and looking around cautiously. No one seemed to come around this area of the forest.

She sat against the trunk of the massive tree munching happily, hoping her crow friend would eventually appear and share her delight in May's delicacy. It was remarkable how different this part of Hallows Forest looked in comparison to the darkness she had entered with Jonathan and her friends. With that thought, she pulled her camera up to look through the photos she had taken that day.

The first pictures August scrolled through weren't from suicide forest but from her last day at home. She had taken photos of her street that day, of the neighbor kids who were walking by on the sidewalk on their way to the park—of little Trenton who stopped and posed awkwardly with his arm over his head as she laughed and thanked him for such a handsome picture—of her mom at home and in the car and in the airport.

August stopped at the photo of her mom showing off the sugar skull tattoo August had drawn on her back earlier that morning. Her mom's face was in profile with her shirt pulled over her shoulder to reveal August's artwork. Wispy golden-white hairs glowed, backlit by the sun, framing her mom's profile while her long eyelashes curved, brushing against her cheeks. She was so beautiful.

August smiled and touched the screen of her camera. "I always wanted your eyelashes, mom," she whispered.

She sniffed back salty tears that were threatening to arise and clicked the arrow to the next picture. Photos of the forest on the way to Eliade, of the university's beautiful architecture, of her dorm, of the lewd writing inside the bathroom stalls, of her shoes on the first day of class, and—eventually—of Cass and Jenna and Elsie and Jonathan on their way to suicide forest.

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"You were such a good friend to me, Elsie," she whispered to a photo of the girl crouched next to a t-shirt wrapped around one of the trees. "I'm so sorry this happened."

August wiped her tears and clicked to the next photo. It was black. The camera must have gone off with the lens cap on. She clicked again. Black again, but this time a small band of white arched across the corner. Was that… August zoomed in to the small area of the photo, but the white only became blurry and distorted. "The eye? It can't be. It—it wasn't real," she whispered.

The eye in the black forest. The eye of death. August's hands started shaking as she recalled what happened when she regained consciousness only to find that her friends were dead. And Elsie's blown pupils—the way the black had grown so large and hollow—flashed in her mind. 'They're all dead, August.' Hearing Jonathan's voice echo in her memory had the donuts suddenly rising in her throat.

August clicked the power button on her camera and stood up quickly to lean against the tree trunk, steadying herself. Her vision flickered in and out before returning back to normal but not before beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead.

'No, no, no, not again.' Panic started to flame in her chest with the thought of having another episode, and she tried fighting it down with deep breaths. 'Don't fear it. Don't fear it.' She remembered how Greta had helped her earlier and her recent suggestion of meditation.

August closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the forest. The leaves above her rustled in the wind. They sounded remarkably like a large body of moving water, as if an ocean existed above her and if she looked up, she would be met with a world turned upside down.

She took herself to the memory of sitting on a beach with her mother, letting waves lick their feet and watching the frothy bubbles that remained on the sand once the waves receded. A jellyfish had stung her that day, though she had never seen it. An invisible creature that left proof of its alien form in red marks on her leg.

Now, under the tree, her breathing calmed and slowed. She concentrated on how the air entered her lungs for her chest to rise softly before she breathed it back into the forest. Her and the tree were in this exchange of air together, and she patted its rough surface with her hand in appreciation. When she finally opened her eyes, a green veil greeted her, falling all around her. It was breathing along with her. "Okay, it's okay," she whispered for only herself to hear.

She carefully sat back down against the base of the tree and allowed the forest to meet her eyes, adjusting to its quiet radiance. Nothing was threatening here aside from her own mind.

The world around August breathed with a vibrant radiance. She could feel this exchange of energies, this exchange of air and time, and suddenly her body was alive with more than herself. It felt as if every little cell inside of her was vibrating apart from one another and yet together—separate little entities inside of her, and yet she was whole. And suffusing this space between her vibrations was the universe—vibrating in time with her. Vibrating in time with all. A choreographed dance of existence.

August suddenly felt the rhythm of it, the waves of something far greater in scope than could ever be comprehended, and here she was a microscopic piece of it, vibrating in time. It was as if all of her little parts may be scattered like star dust at any moment, breathed in and welcomed by the universe that was her home. She heard the stars then, heard them singing, and every part of her aligned in attention.

A crow sliced through the green veil of the forest and alighted at her feet. It tilted its head, a midnight blue aura shimmering in the space where its head had just been.

August tilted her head to match, a mirror image of the black bird before her. "I was hoping to see you," she whispered. "How did you know?"

The crow straightened and hopped back, turning to walk away from her before stopping and hopping around to face her once again. When she didn't move, it ruffled the feathers of its wings and made a soft clucking sound.

"Shall I follow you?" she whispered. The bird's head dipped as if in acknowledgement, and August slowly stood.. "Okay then."

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