I stood staring into the thick ashen fog that surrounded me. Everything was silent, except for the cold light breeze. It sang to me like an old song. I took a step forward, my foot pushed into the soft mud of the dirt road I told myself to follow. Trees lined each side of the path like sentries. I did not know who I was, or where I came from, but I knew my destination. With each step down the path, I felt more and more desperate, as If I was being chased to a dead end.
  I wanted nothing more than to turn around and go, but to where? I knew I had to continue, for I had no other choice. I continued walking for what felt like forever. It felt like I wasn’t moving, for nothing changed. My body soon grew tired and my eyes felt heavy as if they were anchors drifting to the bottom of a deep sea.
  My body kept moving whilst my mind slowly drifted off to sleep. When I awoke I felt no drowsiness, I was wide awake. Everything was perfectly still and silent. Even the trees did not dance though the wind played its sweet symphony. It was almost  as if the world stopped and the wind and I were the only things left.
  As I moved ahead the shadow frame of a home slowly crept out of the fog. I stood before it admiring its decrepit state. The two story home stood almost as a monument to something I didn’t fully understand. Its gutters were rusted and ready to fall off, the shutters for the windows were missing with nothing but their imprints against the wall left, and its shockingly pure white paint flaking off leaving a rotten wood color in its place. I felt compelled to enter by something deep inside of me.
  I walked unto its stone porch and stood in front of the door for a moment. It seemed as if I had entered this home a million times, but it was eerily unfamiliar at the same time.
  As I pushed the door open it gave out a loud screech. I took a step inside, instantly dread and hatred overcame me. It made me want scream, cry, give up and wither away but I kept my composure. Wind rushed through the hallway shut the door behind me, I didn’t care. I stared down the narrow hallway. It was almost impossible to see but a few feet ahead of me. The walls on either side were just as dilapidated as the exterior. Wires and loose nails lined each wall where family pictures would’ve once hung. At the end of the hall was a small room illuminated by a insignificant light. As I squinted I saw that it held a staircase. I made my way towards it.
  I stopped just before I reached the dimly lighted chamber. I was paralyzed. I felt the sensation of a hand resting just above my shoulder. I felt warm moist breath push against my neck. I knew that I’d be pulled into the darkness, never to be seen again. I closed my eyes and clenched my fist. I was ready.
  I opened my eyes and slowly turned around. There was nothing. Nothing but the inky blackness I left behind me. My mind was beginning to play tricks on me. I moved on. I stopped and began to observe the small room. The light that illuminated the place seemed to come from nowhere, yet it brightened the whole room. The wooden boards I stood on felt weak, like I could fall through them at any time. Nothing was there except a small dresser put against the staircase. It was rotted and covered in dust. I looked back at the hallway behind me. Though I knew I was alone, I still felt eyes staring back at me from the darkness. The hairs stood on the back of my neck and I became uneasy. Quickly I began to ascend the steps.
  With each step I heard the boards beneath me squeal and another step behind me. The uneasiness grew. When I reached the top I could only see one thing. Another dim light seeping from a cracked door at the end of another derelict hall. Like a moth drawn to a flame I inched closer. When I reached the door I was paralyzed with fear again, but not by a being I couldn’t see. I was paralyzed with fear by what lied on the other side. What answers would I find? What answers did I want to find?
  I fought my anxiety and pushed the door open. I was stunned. In Front of me was a room for a child. It was out of place and out of time. Everything about the room was strange. The bed was made as if hours ago by a caring mother. Action figures in pristine condition littered the floor. The baby blue paint that covered the walls was flawless. Everything about the room was eerily quintessential.
  I felt a small tug on my jeans. Dumbfounded I looked down and saw a small teddy bear holding a heart next to my foot. I picked it up. In white stitching across the heart was a name. Jacob. As soon as I read the name it was as if every human emotion tried to escape me. I became overwhelmed and fell to my knees. I pulled the bear close to my chest and began to cry. It was strange as I had not cried in very long time. It felt good to cry,
  I didn’t know why the bear held such importance to me, but it did. When I opened my eyes the once beautiful room was replaced by much more unpleasant scenery. Worn and ruined toys replaced the immaculate ones that were once there. The bed was soiled and unkempt. The room smelled of urine and dirt. The baby blue paint was replaced by a disgusting and flaking green coloring. It made me light headed. When I looked in my hands, the bear was gone. The room was back to the state it belonged.
  I left the room knowing it wasn’t my final destination. I descended the steps back into the small room. It was no longer lit. I looked back down the hall I came in from. The eyes were staring back at me more than ever. I walked to my right and saw another room. I entered. It was a kitchen. The cookery looked as if everyone abandoned it during the middle of a meal. It smelled of copper and salt. Rust covered everything metallic like paint. The fridge looked rotted and was left wide open. The sinks and counters were missing with only their dirt shadows left. Against the wall across from me was another closed door. I went to open it. As soon as I touched the handle a hand grabbed my shoulder, as if to stop me from opening it. It was strange because as the hand touched me I heard a quiet but desperate sorry. I quickly turned around. Again I faced nothing but darkness. I was surely going mad. I turned and opened the door.
  I was blinded by a bright sunrise. I couldn’t see anything for a moment, but I heard waves crashing. When my eyes finally adjusted a I saw a sole weeping willow upon a cliff, overlooking an ocean. Dew covered the tall grass around me making them sparkle gently as the sun hit them. Small ruined statues, that looked as if they came from a yard sale, were littered across the lawn. A thin winding  gravel path led to the willow. Like a siren calls a sailor, the tree called me. This is where the nightmare ended. I made my way towards the tree. When I reached it I put my hand out to touch its rough exterior. I looked out over the sea. The fog was gone. On the horizon the sun was rising, glistening diamonds began to sparkle across the sea. It was beautiful.
  I sat on the ground and leaned my back against the tree. I felt pure bliss. It felt comforting, like being held by someone you love in the perfect way. It felt like I was sitting on the edge of the world. I was alone, but I felt someone watching the waves crash with me. I forgave them. I stood and looked above me. From the tree hung an old noose. I climbed up to it. I ran my finger across it. It was splintering and rough. I put it over my neck, the bristles that splintered off scratched and hurt my neck. I didn’t mind. I stared at the ocean one last time. It was beautiful. It felt like someone had pushed me from behind and I flinched as I fell into nothing.
 

  It was a warm fall evening when police were called to a suicide scene in a small suburban neighborhood. It was a male about thirty. He hung from a tree. No identification was found. The only thing left was some words scratched into the tree he hung from, “I forgive you.” To this day no one knows who this man was. All that remains is an unmarked grave surrounded by the mystery of a man who once lived.