Daniel hoped a weekend in the woods would help mend his strained relationship with his son, Caleb. But after a heated argument, Caleb storms out—and doesn’t return. As night falls, Daniel searches the dark forest, only to find footprints that stop without a trace…
I hadn’t seen my son Caleb in over a month. Too long. But he and Megan lived in another town now, across the state.
A man driving a car | Source: Pexels
Every mile I drove toward my ex-wife’s house reminded me how far apart we had become.
Years ago, weekend trips meant heated chatter and overstuffed bags filled with his favorite action figure, too many snacks, and a flashlight he’d barely use.
Now silence stretched between us like a living thing.
A troubled man frowns | Source: Midjourney
The neighborhoods leading to Megan’s new house seemed foreign, full of cookie-cutter houses, picket fences, and manicured lawns. It’s a far cry from our old house.
When I pulled into his driveway, my stomach lurched at the sight of Evan’s car. Of course, it was there. His hybrid car sat next to Megan’s SUV, as if it belonged there. Maybe it did now.
Megan opened the door, her expression carefully neutral. “Hello, Daniel. Caleb will be right there.”
My chest tightened at the sight of him. “Sure. Um… how are you?”
A woman standing in an entrance hall | Source: Midjourney
Megan bit her lower lip, as if weighing her answer. Just then, Evan appeared, wiping the flour off his hands with a dishcloth.
“Hey! You must be Daniel. Nice to meet you. Would you like a cookie? The first batch just came out of the oven.”
He wasn’t particularly handsome or intimidating, he just seemed steady. The kind of guy who remembers buying milk and, apparently, baking cookies on a Saturday afternoon.
A smiling man wearing an apron | Source: Midjourney
He extended his hand to me, and I hesitated before shaking it. He was so friendly, but I still resented him.
“Oh, I’m sure Daniel wants to leave as soon as possible,” Megan said. She moved away from the door, away from me, and called Caleb’s name.
When Caleb appeared, he was taller than I remembered. His shoulders were stiff, his expression reserved.
A sulky teenager | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, Dad,” he mumbled, with no warmth in his voice.
Megan handed me her already packed bag as if she’d been counting down the minutes until my departure.
“There are extra socks in the side pocket,” she said. “And her allergy medication, just in case.”
As if I don’t remember my own son’s allergies.
“Thanks.” I took the bag. “I guess we’ll go then.”
A person holding a backpack | Source: Pexels
Megan hugged Caleb and we walked to the car. As we drove away, I saw Evan standing behind Megan in the rearview mirror, his hand resting on the small of her back.
My jaw clenched. Part of me still couldn’t believe she’d moved on. Sure, the divorce was finalized months ago, and she moved Caleb across the state for a job opportunity shortly after, but… I felt like it had happened too fast.
I couldn’t help but think that we could have worked things out and become a family again if she could have just sat with me for five minutes.
A man glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney
The drive to the campsite was excruciating. Every attempt at conversation hit a wall.
“How are things at school?”
“Alright.
“And football?”
“Alright.”
“Your friends?”
“Alright.”
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, this stranger who wore my son’s face. He had grown so much in the past year. His jaw was sharper, losing its boyish softness. He had my nose and Megan’s eyes. Since when had he looked so old?
Close-up of a teenager’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Okay. It’s good to know everything’s okay.” I tried to keep my voice casual. “How are things going with Evan?”
Caleb tensed next to me. “He’s fine. He’s helping me with math.”
My stomach twisted, but I kept my tone even. “It’s good.”
He glanced at me as if he could read every thought going through my mind. “He’s not that bad.”
I forced a small laugh. “That’s a glowing review.”
“At least he’s here,” Caleb muttered, so quietly I almost missed him.
An emotional teenager | Source: Midjourney
“You know I’m doing my best, buddy. The distance, the work… it would help if you spent more than a few minutes on the phone when I call, or if you answered my texts.”
He rolled his eyes at me and put in his headphones. Conversation over. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel and I kept driving.
The road had turned to dirt for miles, winding deeper into the forest, where the trees grew closer with every mile. The air was thick with the scent of earth and moss—it smelled ancient, like a place forgotten by time.
A dirt road through a forest | Source: Pexels
Shadows lengthened across the dashboard as the sun sank. I pulled over near an overgrown trail I’d spotted online. No fire rings. No facilities. Just unspoiled wilderness.
“Is this where it is?” Caleb asks, looking unimpressed.
“That’s it. Real camping, like we used to. You know, they say this is one of the oldest parts of the world?”
Caleb groans. “We used to camp in state parks. With toilets.”
I ignored the rant and started unloading the car. The tent was new. I’d splurged on this trip. The old Coleman had gone to Megan’s during the divorce, along with most of our camping gear. And almost everything else.
Backpacks and camping gear leaning against a car | Source: Pexels
As I set up camp, Caleb kicked stones aimlessly. The tent stakes clicked into place with satisfying snaps, muscle memory taking over despite the years since I last did this. I tried to conjure up old family camping trips, hoping to spark a little nostalgia.
“Do you remember when we saw those baby raccoons? It must have been four or five years ago?”
Caleb shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Your mom was so worried about them getting into the cooler, but you wanted to leave them some hot dogs.”
“Yes.”
A teenager glancing at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Have you ever camped around here with your mom?” I hesitated. “With Evan?”
He shrugged again. “No. Kids at school said people disappear around here, though. Like they disappear forever.”
I laughed. “Let me guess, Bigfoot takes them away?”
A smirk played on his lips. “More like things that look like people, but aren’t.” Then he brushed it off. “I don’t know. They’re just having fun.”
“That’s about it. So, are you going to help me?”
A man pitching a tent | Source: Pexels
Caleb sighed and began to sulk, being as ineffectively helpful as a 13-year-old could be. Finally, the tent stood ready, a blue dome against the darkening sky.
“Here.” I threw the sleeping bags at him. Instead of catching them, they hit him in the chest, one after the other.
“What the hell is going on, Dad?” Caleb snapped.
“Hey, tongue!” I scolded him. “Lay out our sleeping bags and I’ll light the fire.”
Caleb sniffed and mumbled something that made me see red.
An emotional teenager | Source: Midjourney
“… doesn’t care about me, he just dragged me into the forest to order me around.”
“What did you say?” I turned to face him. “I brought you here so we could spend time together. Why are you acting like this?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered.
“You could try,” I retorted. “I’m your father…”
He scoffed. “Yeah. Whenever it suits you.”
It felt like a punch in the gut.
A man staring with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
“You weren’t even very present before the divorce!” His voice rises. “You always had something more important to do. And now, all of a sudden, I matter?”
“It’s not fair,” I stammered. “I was working to provide…”
“Provide what? You weren’t there! Not for my games, not for school stuff, not for anything!” He kicked the tent pole, making the whole structure shake. “And now you buy a luxury tent and expect everything to be fine?”
An emotional teenager screaming | Source: Midjourney
He shook his head, his eyes shining with anger and hurt. “I don’t even know where I belong anymore. Mom has her new life with Evan. You have… whatever it is. Where am I supposed to be?”
Before I could answer, he turned and stormed into the trees.
I told myself I should let him calm down. He would come back. But as the sun went down and the shadows lengthened, doubt crept in.
The sun shines through the trees in a forest | Source: Pexels
The firelight only reached a certain distance. Beyond that, the woods stretched out in layers of black, the trees little more than shadows in the deeper darkness. The silence seemed false, as if the forest were listening. Waiting.
“Caleb?” I stood at the edge of the woods, calling into the shadows. “Caleb!”
A moment of silence. Then my voice called me back. “Caleb…”
I froze. It’s just an echo, I told myself. But it didn’t sound quite right. The inflection was off, as if someone was trying to imitate speech without understanding what the words meant.
A man staring into the forest | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my flashlight and headed toward the trees. The beam picked up fragments of the forest: moss-covered trunks, tangles of ferns, the occasional flash of eyes low to the ground—probably raccoons or deer.
I followed Caleb’s footprints until they abruptly stopped. No sign of turning back. No sign of where he went. I called out to him again, but all I heard was the strange echo of my voice.
The trees here were old, their branches so tightly packed overhead that they swallowed the sky. The air seemed heavy, pressed in from all sides.
A forest at dusk | Source: Pexels
No wind stirred the leaves. No birds called. Just the distant trickle of water and the occasional creak of shifting wood.
Before us, a shape stood between the trees. Too big. Motionless.
My heart is pounding. “Caleb?”
“Caleb,” my echo repeats. “Caleb?”
The flashlight flickered. The shape remained motionless, watching my approach.
A man looking apprehensively into a forest | Source: Midjourney
It was just a twisted tree. Relief washed over me, but the unease persisted.
Then I heard Caleb’s voice calling, and I ran towards him without thinking.
I almost walked straight into the ravine. It opened up just beyond the tree line, a steep drop masked by dead leaves and ferns.
The beam of my flashlight caught Caleb at the bottom, half-covered in dirt. His face was pale, his eyes too wide.
“Dad, help!”
A teenager calling someone | Source: Midjourney
I let myself slide without hesitation. The earth gave way beneath my boots, sending me skidding. I landed hard, my hands scraping against the wet rock.
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, but his gaze drifted to the darkness beyond. “I’m fine, Dad, but… I don’t think we’re alone here .”
My pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”
A scared man talking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“Something chased me through the woods. I heard… I heard you calling my name, but it wasn’t you. All those stories the kids told me at school… I think they’re true.”
“Calm down. I was calling you . The echoes here are just… weird.”
The ravine was deeper than I’d first thought. The walls stretched upward, the trees above forming a jagged black crown against the night sky. Something moved nearby. I swung my flashlight, and the beam landed on a shape a few meters away.
Caleb let out a shaky laugh.
“It’s just a deer.”
A deer in the forest | Source: Midjourney
The deer took a slow step forward, its legs moving in a way that didn’t seem quite right. Each joint flexed like a puppet being manipulated by inexperienced hands.
“Dad…” Caleb frowns. “Look at how he’s moving. Maybe he’s hurt?”
I raise the flashlight slightly. The deer’s eyes didn’t reflect the light normally. On the contrary, they seemed to attract and devour it. A cold chill ran down my spine, and my chest tightened.
I kept my voice steady. “Come on. If he’s hurt, we shouldn’t go near him. He could have rabies. We need to get out of here.”
A terrified man in a forest | Source: Midjourney
He hesitated, then nodded.
We crawled out of the ravine. None of us looked back. The sound that followed us wasn’t hooves on leaves: it was the wet slap of something soft dragging itself along the ground.
We both started running. The sound grew louder, faster, tearing through the brush behind us as we ran.
The glow of the campfire was getting closer through the trees, but just as we saw it, Caleb yelled, “Dad!”
A man who looks back with fear | Source: Midjourney
I turned around. He was holding his ankle and grimacing, and the nauseating noise was getting closer.
I threw Caleb over my shoulder and sprinted toward the fire. I didn’t know what was crawling through the forest after us, but I was certain that if I found out, it would be the last thing I’d do in my life.
We collapsed by the fire. I grabbed one of the logs I’d gathered and turned to face the trees, brandishing it like a weapon.
A man holding a log facing a dark forest | Source: Midjourney
There was nothing left. Even the noise had stopped. I stayed there for a few more minutes, just to make sure it was safe, then I put the log on the fire and crouched down next to Caleb.
Caleb had drawn his knees up to his chest. He suddenly looked younger. Smaller. I started to tend to his ankle, and we didn’t speak for a long time.
Finally, he muttered, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”
I shook my head as I rummaged through the first aid kit. “Yes, you said so. And you were right.”
A first aid kit on a bag at a campsite | Source: Pexels
He sighs. “I just don’t know where I belong anymore. Everything is different.”
My throat tightened. I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my face. “You belong here. With me. Even when things go wrong. Even when I mess up.”
He looked at me doubtfully. “Even if we don’t see each other much?”
“Even so. Look, I know I haven’t been… I haven’t been the father you deserve. But I want to do better. I want to be there. Please, let me.”
A small, silent understanding passed between us. He leaned lightly against my side, and we stared into the campfire.
A campfire | Source: Pexels
“That thing in the woods,” he said after a while. “What do you think it was?”
“I… don’t know. A deer, a sick deer. But it looks like we’re safe here, by the fire.”
We climbed into the tent shortly after. Caleb fell asleep first. I watched him sleep, feeling closer to my son than I had in a long time.
His features were softer in sleep, younger. I saw traces of the little boy who crawled onto my lap during thunderstorms, who believed his father could fix anything.
A sleeping teenager | Source: Midjourney
Things may not have been perfect, but it was a start. Tomorrow we would go home, back to our complicated lives and shared custody schedules, but something had changed tonight, a small repair in the fraying bonds between father and son.
Somewhere in the darkness beyond our fire, a deer barked.
Here’s another story : My controlling mother became unbearable after I gave birth, but I reached my limit when she stole the family dog, claiming it posed a threat to the baby. I gave my husband an ultimatum that shattered the family bond, but a bittersweet reunion years later healed us.
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