The Light in the Tree Line

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform.

I don’t live in the woods anymore.

I tell people that like it was a choice. Like I just got tired of the drive into town or wanted better internet. The truth is I left because something started watching me from the treeline.

It began with a light.

Not bright. Not like a flashlight. Just a dull white glow between the trees about thirty yards from my back porch.

First night I saw it, I figured someone was camping. Second night, same spot. Third night, it had moved.

Closer.

I live alone. Or I did. The nearest neighbor was half a mile down a dirt road no one uses unless they have to.

One night I walked toward it.

It shut off.

Not faded. Not dimmed.

Off. Like someone flipped a switch.

After that it stopped pretending to stay still. Every night it would be a little closer.

Not enough to panic.

Just enough to notice.

By the seventh night it was at the edge of my yard.

That’s when I realized something.

The glow wasn’t lighting up the trees around it.

It wasn’t casting shadows.

It wasn’t lighting the ground.

It was just… there.

Hanging in the air.

The eighth night it was at my back steps.

I locked the doors.

It didn’t try to get in.

It didn’t move.

It just hovered there.

Like it was waiting for me to open the door.

I didn’t sleep.

Around 3:12 AM it flickered once.

And I heard something move across my roof.

That’s when I left.

I packed a bag and drove until the sun came up.

I haven’t gone back.

But sometimes when I wake up at night, I swear I see a dull white glow at the corner of my bedroom ceiling.

Not casting shadows.

Just there.