We weren't supposed to go in.
But we did.
All four of us—Eva, Isha, Alex, and me, Asher.
It started like every dumb idea does: a challenge, a dare, something to do before summer ended. A forest with no name, no trails, no reason to be visited. Just a thick blur on the map, tucked behind the broken fences off the old highway. No town signs. No welcome gates. Just a rusted chain and a warning sign too faded to read.
We thought it would be fun. A little creepy, maybe, but nothing serious. Just trees, bugs, bad phone signals, and stories to laugh about later.
That was before we found the girl.
She was sitting on a mossy log, barefoot, her dress torn like she'd been running—or waiting. She looked our age, maybe younger. Pale skin. Dark hair. Eyes too calm for someone lost.
"My name is Lia," she said. "I'm lost."
We didn't ask too many questions. She seemed normal enough, just shaken. We offered her food, water. Eva wrapped her jacket around Lia's shoulders. Alex joked about adding a fifth to the squad. Isha asked where she came from, but Lia just looked into the woods like they'd answer for her.
She smiled politely and said something none of us really listened to at the time.
"This forest is cursed."
We laughed, of course. Isha called it classic campfire nonsense. Eva nudged her, pretending to be scared. Alex asked if we'd get ghost powers if we made it out.
I remember Lia's smile faded. Just a little.
"People come here," she said. "But the forest decides who leaves."
That should've been a red flag.
But we were teenagers, pretending we were immortal. So we kept walking—five shadows under a canopy of twisted branches.
We joked. Took pictures. Told horror stories to pass the time. Our voices echoed like they were bouncing off something we couldn't see.
When it was Lia's turn, she looked around slowly and said:
> "This forest remembers everyone who enters. Even after they forget themselves."
Silence followed her words. Just for a second.
Then Alex laughed and threw a pinecone at her.
We kept going deeper.
The forest didn't change. Not at first. But the deeper we went, the more it felt like it wasn't just trees and dirt. The air got thicker. The light dimmer. Like we were walking into a place that didn't want to be found.
There were no birds. No squirrels. Not even insects. Just the crunch of leaves under our boots, and that weird whispering wind that never seemed to touch our skin.
It was Eva who first said it.
"Does it feel like we've walked in a circle?"
We had. Or hadn't. The path was both new and familiar. Trees looked the same. Or different. It was hard to tell. Time stretched oddly—like a minute lasted longer than it should, and yet whole hours vanished without us noticing.
At one point, I turned to say something to Lia, but she wasn't there. I stopped walking.
"Guys—where's Lia?"
She was suddenly behind me. "Here," she said softly. Like she'd always been.
I didn't tell the others. I didn't want to sound paranoid.
But that night, when we set up camp under a twisted, half-dead tree, I noticed something strange.
Lia didn't eat.
She didn't sleep.
She just sat, her back to the fire, staring into the trees.
"I don't think she's lost," I whispered to Eva as we unrolled our sleeping bags.
Eva shrugged. "She's weird, sure. But harmless."
I wasn't so sure.
That night, I heard whispering. At first I thought it was Isha and Alex, but when I peeked outside the tent, everyone was asleep.
Everyone except Lia.
She stood at the edge of the clearing, barefoot in the dirt, her face tilted upward. Like she was listening to something only she could hear.
And then, she turned her head. Slowly.
Right at me.
She smiled.
We thought we were just visitors in the woods.
But we were being invited.
Or claimed.
The forest had found us first.
We just didn't know it yet.