This is a repeat from last year, but I really, really like it, so it's back. I changed it a little bit.
Trees stood ominously and reached down, trying to ensnare anyone who walked under their branches. Bushes crouched on the ground, thin enough that you could barely see freedom through them, but thorny enough that there was no way you could escape. The few animals that cried in the treetops sounded like they were telling you to run away, to save yourself. The wind whispered warnings. Turn around, it said, get away. It flowed slowly and the voice chilled your bones, even if you were wearing a jacket. If you could make it this far into the darkness, you would see the lone dirt road, snaking its way into the dark unknown. Do not follow it. Turn around. Go back. Run away. Listen to the wind.
