The Beast of Fox Hill

Nineteen

It is funny how people view being alone. Some find it anxiety inducing and traumatic. Others find it peaceful and find joy in the lack of company. I, myself, always found myself supportive of the ladder, being happy in my singular life. I suppose having a lack of friends and family throughout life will do that to someone. It makes you independent in a way.

Though I usually enjoy being alone, after Axel left I find myself feeling lonely. I may always be alone, but loneliness is not something normal to me. Perhaps having the few weeks of friendship with Booker, Cassander and Zane made me reconsider the price of being alone.

It has been a week since Axel left, and longer since I have seen anyone else with exception of Mrs. Penny at the local store. I have kept myself busy writing and enjoying the ever cooling air, but somewhere inside me I do feel lonely now. I find myself wishing someone would call or text me, or even just show up at my trailer as they had done so many times before.

How can people who live so close never cross paths? It is funny how life and the world in general works that way. Maybe it is fate that I may never cross the path of Cassander, Booker or Zane again, and I should just let them go.

If I am being completely honest, I am a bit angered by the fact that none of them have returned or even returned a call. The time we spent together seemed to be that of a positive and blossoming friendship and laughter, and I could not place a moment where it would have made them think badly of me. It lead me to thoughts of irritation and confusion as to why they ghosted me.

As I said before, I am used to being alone. It is in my nature to thrive without friends or anyone around me. Going back to being the reclusive person I have always been will be a simple adjustment for me, but I could not deny that I would miss the laughter brought by the men that I thought were becoming my friends.

I have been writing much more lately to take up my long days, or shall I say nights now that I have become a nocturnal being. I have found myself spending most of my days asleep while my nights are filled with writing and my solitude, not that I minded. I have always enjoyed the nights, the stars and the crickets along with the peeper frogs that would sing throughout the night. An occasional owl will hoot and it has startled me a number of times while I was deeply concentrated in writing.

I have tried to stay in contact with my mother more, but as Axel stated before, she is busier than I think I have ever seen her. The man that Axel said was visiting her often turned out to be her boyfriend and she seems happier than ever, and for that I can not be mad at her for taking time for herself rather than indulging me with most likely boring conversation about my boring life.

On another note, the wildlife has been quiet lately, and by wildlife I mean the gargantuan wolves. I have not seen them since the night with Axel. I have only heard their distant howls, not that I will ever complain about the wolves being away from here.

As I said, I turned into quite the creature of the night, staying up in the late night and early morning hours embracing my ability to create fictional characters and stories. As I sat listening to the crickets and frogs sing their night time songs, I focused heavily on my writing.

After writing for hours, not even noticing the time, I realized something a bit odd. The music of the night had stopped, the crickets and peeper frogs, owls and any other animal heard during the night was silenced. I stand up from my chair and furrow my eyebrows at the unusual silence of the forest creatures. I walk out of my office and out to my living room and then the kitchen and look outside.

The world is still completely black with the loss of the sun, but the moon glowed and lit up the back yard. The trees caused eerie shadows to wave and crawl across the dimly lit lawn. It was very much still night time, and that posed the question as to what silenced the night animals.