My sister-in-law always felt entitled to whatever she wanted, but nothing prepared me for her most outrageous demand yet—she wanted me to have a baby just so she could keep it as a gift. When she refused to take no for an answer, I decided to teach her a lesson she would never forget.
Do you think you have crazy relatives? Well, let me tell you about mine, and you might change your mind.
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Harry and I had been married for seven years, together for nearly fifteen, and we had two wonderful children, Maya and Luke.
Our little family was everything to me but when it came to our extended family, things weren’t as simple.
I realized something was off with my MIL, Charlotte, and my SIL, Candice, the very first day I met them.
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I told myself it was just nerves, that I was overthinking it. I had no idea then just how much trouble they would bring into my life.
Before our wedding, Candice proved just how self-centered she was. She threw a full-blown tantrum because I had the audacity to choose someone else as my maid of honor.
Worse yet, she claimed my dress was prettier than hers. As if my wedding was supposed to revolve around her!
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She nearly ruined the entire day, but thankfully, Grace, Harry’s grandmother, stepped in.
Grace was the only truly kind soul in that family, aside from my husband. Unfortunately, she lived too far away to rescue us often.
But just before Candice’s thirtieth birthday, something happened that made me question reality itself.
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Candice rarely visited us, and when she did, she kept her distance from the kids, always complaining that they were “too noisy” or “gave her headaches.”
But that day was different. She spent hours playing with Maya, and something about it sent a shiver down my spine. As it turned out, I had every reason to be worried.
During dinner, Candice kept glancing at me and Harry. I knew she wanted attention. I just didn’t know why.
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“I have an announcement!” Her voice rang through the dining room. “I’m going to be a mom!” she blurted out.
Harry choked on his food. He coughed and grabbed his water. I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth.
“What?” I asked.
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Harry wiped his mouth. “Who… is the father?” His brows furrowed. “You’re not even dating anyone.”
He was right. The last boyfriend, she had run off after she screamed at him for not buying her an expensive handbag.
Candice waved a hand. “That’s actually why I came over today.” She straightened in her chair. “The parents of my daughter will be you two.”
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My stomach twisted. “What?!”
She sighed like I was the crazy one. “I’m almost thirty, and I don’t have a husband.” She smiled. “The perfect birthday gift would be a daughter.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. My brain struggled to process her words.
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Harry rubbed his temples. “You want Stephanie to be your surrogate?”
Candice shook her head. “No, I want you two to have a baby for me.”
I placed my hands on the table. “So, it would be our child, and you expect us to give it to you?”
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“Not just give—give it to me for my birthday. What’s the problem?” Her tone was light, casual, like she was asking for a sweater.
I stared at her. “You seriously don’t see a problem?” My voice rose. “Harry and I aren’t having any more children. I am not having a baby just to hand it over to you.”
Candice scoffed. “Stephanie, you’ve always been so selfish.”
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Harry’s chair scraped against the floor as he sat up. “No, Candice. Stephanie is right. We’re not doing this.”
“But why? You already have two! What’s the big deal about having one more?” Her voice hit a high-pitched whine.
I clenched my fists. “I am not an incubator! A child is not an object! A child is a person!”
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“You just don’t want me to be happy! You want to be the only one with kids!” Candice shrieked.
Harry slammed his hand on the table. “Enough! Leave. Now.”
Candice’s face burned red. She stood, shaking with anger. “I’ll tell Mom about this!” She stomped to the door, threw it open, and slammed it behind her.
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I exhaled. “How did she even come up with this?”
Harry shook his head. “She’s completely lost it.”
Candice stayed quiet for a while. I hoped that meant she’d finally let it go. I should have known better.
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One afternoon, Candice showed up at our house with Charlotte by her side.
Candice’s arms overflowed with shopping bags from baby stores. My first thought was she had decided to be a good aunt and bring gifts for Maya and Luke. But the smug look on her face told me otherwise.
Charlotte walked in without waiting for an invitation. She sat on the couch and gestured for Harry and me to join her. Candice stood nearby, grinning.
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“Candice told me that you agreed to give her a baby,” Charlotte said.
“What? No, we told her we weren’t going to do that,” I said.
“Why not?” Charlotte asked.
“Because it’s insane,” Harry replied.
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“Is it really that hard? Stephanie, as a woman, you should know that the older you get, the harder it is to have children. Candice is already almost thirty,” Charlotte argued.
“I’m not going to give my child to your daughter, who has no idea what it means to be a parent,” I said firmly.
“That’s not true! I already bought everything!” Candice announced, pulling out baby clothes and dresses from her bags.
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“You do realize that a baby is not a doll you can just dress up, right? Babies cry, scream, spit up, and do a lot of unpleasant things,” Harry pointed out.
“My daughter won’t be like that. She’ll be like your Maya—I’ve never seen Maya cry,” Candice said confidently.
“That’s because you’ve never spent enough time with her,” I countered.
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“Then I’ll just bring my daughter to you when she cries,” Candice said.
“Babies cry day and night. Are you planning to bring her to me every single time?” I asked.
“Yes. What’s the problem with that?” Candice asked, genuinely confused.
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Harry buried his face in his hands.“This is impossible. Candice, you are not ready to be a mother. And asking someone to have a child for you is completely insane,” he said.
“But you’re my brother!” Candice cried.
While they argued, I noticed Charlotte had disappeared. I went looking for her and found her in our bedroom—poking holes in our condoms.
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“What are you doing?!” I shouted.
“Making everyone’s life easier,” she said calmly.
“Have you lost your mind?!” I screamed.
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“Listen, it wouldn’t be hard for you to have another baby, but it is hard for Candice. So I just decided to help a little,” she said.
“Help?!” I yelled. “You’re interfering in our personal lives!”
“Not everyone is as lucky as you, having a husband like my son. You should understand that,” Charlotte replied.
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“You’re treating me and your son like an incubator! Why can’t Candice just go to a sperm donor?!” I snapped.
“Donors are just random people. But you and Harry already have two healthy children, so Candice would know for sure that her baby would be fine,” Charlotte said.
“That would be our child! Ours!” I shouted.
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“But you’d be having it for Candice, so it would be her child,” Charlotte argued.
“Do you really think I would give my child to someone who believes you can choose a baby’s gender? Or that babies don’t cry?” I asked.
“I will help her,” Charlotte said.
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“That makes…” that makes the situation even worse, I wanted to say, but I stopped myself.
An idea formed in my mind—a way to teach both Candice and Charlotte a lesson and show everyone just how insane they were.
“You know what? If you’re going to help, then I agree,” I said.
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Charlotte beamed. “Finally! Why didn’t you just say so earlier?” she said, then went to tell Candice the “good news.”
As soon as they left, Harry turned to me in shock. “You actually agreed to this?” he asked.
“I have a plan,” I said.
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For the next nine months leading up to Candice’s birthday, I played my role well.
I smiled, touched my belly often, and acted like the happiest pregnant woman.
Every time Candice called, I assured her everything was going smoothly. I even let her ramble about nursery themes and baby names.
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It was exhausting. Keeping up the act drained me, but I had to see this through.
When the time came, I announced I would give birth in another city. Candice pouted but accepted my reasoning—I told her the “gift” had to remain a surprise until her birthday. After all, it was a present, right?
On the big day, the whole family gathered for the reveal. Even Grace had traveled to be there.
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Candice had told everyone about her “grand surprise,” building the moment up as if she had won the lottery.
Harry and I walked in when everyone was seated. I held a baby carrier, wrapped with a giant bow, cradling it carefully. Candice gasped, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Let me see her!” she squealed, trying to peek inside.
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“Not yet,” I said. “Wait for the big moment.”
Finally, Candice stood, practically glowing with excitement. “I have a very special announcement!” she declared. “Harry and Stephanie have given me the most incredible birthday gift—a baby!” Gasps filled the room. Eyes locked on us.
Candice turned, arms outstretched. “Okay, hand her over now!” I smiled and placed the carrier in her hands.
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Candice tore off the bow. She reached inside the carrier with trembling hands. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Then her face twisted in horror.
“WHAT IS THIS?!” she shrieked, pulling out a doll.
The room fell silent. All eyes were on her. Harry and I burst into laughter.
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“The only baby you’re fit to take care of,” I said, smirking.
Candice’s chest rose and fell fast. Her fingers dug into the doll’s plastic limbs. She looked at me with pure rage.
“But you were pregnant!” she screamed. “I saw your belly!”
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“Fake bellies,” I said, shrugging. “I went out of town to ‘give birth’ just to sell the illusion.”
Candice let out a sharp sob. Charlotte gasped and shot up from her seat.
“You heartless witch!” Charlotte yelled.
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“And who exactly is heartless?” I snapped. “The people who refused to give away their child? Or the ones who expected a baby like it was a wrapped-up gift?”
Candice clutched the doll to her chest. Tears streamed down her face.
“But… but I already bought so many dresses!” she whined. “Who am I supposed to dress up now?”
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“The doll works perfectly,” Harry said, still chuckling.
Candice’s hands trembled as she looked down at the toy. Her whole body shook.
Then I noticed Grace watching carefully. Her wrinkled hands rested in her lap. Her sharp eyes flicked between Candice and Charlotte.
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“Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?” she asked, her voice firm.
I turned to her. “Candice came to us a year ago demanding that we give her a baby for her birthday.”
Grace’s face twisted in confusion. “You mean… as a surrogate? Does she have health issues?”
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“No,” Harry said. “Our baby.”
Grace’s frown deepened.
“Candice is perfectly healthy,” I added. “She just doesn’t have a husband and thought we should give her a child.”
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Grace’s face turned red with fury. She pushed herself up from her seat and pointed a shaking finger at Candice and Charlotte.
“ARE YOU BOTH OUT OF YOUR MINDS?!” she roared.
Candice flinched. “W-what? What’s so wrong with it?” she stammered.
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“You’re just like your mother, Candice! I warned my son not to marry you, Charlotte, but he didn’t listen! And this is the result!” Grace spat.
“Grandma, how could you say that?!” Candice cried.
“I’m saying the truth!” Grace snapped. She took another deep breath, then fixed them both with a look of disgust.
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“I am writing you both out of my will.”
The room fell silent. Grace’s estate was worth a lot. Everyone knew it. Candice and Charlotte froze in shock.
“You’re serious?” Charlotte whispered, her voice unsteady.
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“Absolutely,” Grace said coldly. “I will not let insane people like you have any control over my wealth.”
A deep, satisfied sense of justice filled me. I watched as realization dawned on them.
“But—” Candice started.
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Grace held up a hand. “Enough. We’re leaving. I want to see my great-grandchildren—the real ones.” She turned to Harry and me. “Let’s go.”
Harry and I didn’t hesitate. We stood up and walked out, hand in hand. Behind us, Candice sobbed hysterically.
Charlotte shouted in frustration. But we didn’t care. They got exactly what they deserved.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I thought my mother-in-law was just overbearing. But when she stole the spotlight at our gender reveal, I realized she would do anything to stay at the center of our lives. I wanted space. She refused to give it. Then I discovered her biggest secret—and regret hit her harder than she imagined.
A Father’s Weekend Camping Trip Becomes a Nightmare When His Son Disappears into the Dark Woods
Daniel hoped a weekend in the woods would help mend his strained relationship with his son, Caleb. But after a heated argument, Caleb storms off — and doesn’t return. As night falls, Daniel searches the dark forest, only to find footsteps that stop without a trace…
I hadn’t seen my son Caleb in over a month. Too long. But he and Megan lived in a different city now, way on the other side of the state.
A man driving a car | Source: Pexels
Each mile I drove toward my ex-wife’s house felt like another reminder of how far we’d drifted apart.
Years ago, weekend trips meant excited chatter and over-packed bags filled with his favorite action figure, too many snacks, and a flashlight he’d barely use.
Now, the silence stretched between us like a living thing.
A troubled man frowning | Source: Midjourney
The neighborhoods leading to Megan’s new place felt foreign, full of cookie-cutter houses, picket fences, and neat lawns. A far cry from our old place.
When I pulled into her driveway, my stomach knotted at the sight of Evan’s car. Of course, he was there. His sensible hybrid sat next to Megan’s SUV like it belonged there. Maybe it did now.
Megan answered the door, her expression carefully neutral. “Hi, Daniel. Caleb will be right down.”
My chest tightened at the sight of her. “Sure. Uh… how are you doing?”
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Megan chewed her lower lip as though weighing her answer. Then Evan stepped into view, wiping flour from his hands with a dish towel.
“Hey! You must be Daniel. Nice to meet you. You want a cookie? The first batch just came out of the oven.”
He wasn’t particularly handsome or intimidating, just steady-looking. The kind of guy who remembered to buy milk and, apparently, baked cookies on a Saturday afternoon.
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He extended his hand, and I hesitated before shaking it. He was so friendly, but I resented him anyway.
“Oh, I’m sure Daniel wants to get going as soon as possible,” Megan cut in. She stepped 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 guarded.
A sulky teen boy | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Dad,” he mumbled, with no warmth in his voice.
Megan handed me his already-packed bag like she’d been counting the minutes until I’d leave.
“There’s extra socks in the side pocket,” she said. “And his allergy medicine, just in case.”
As if I didn’t remember my own son’s allergies.
“Thanks.” I took the bag. “I guess we’ll head out then.”
A person holding a backpack | Source: Pexels
Megan pulled Caleb into a hug and we headed to the car. As we drove away, I caught sight of Evan standing behind Megan in the rearview mirror, his hand resting on her lower back.
My jaw tightened. Part of me still couldn’t believe she’d moved on. Sure, the divorce was finalized months ago, and she’d moved Caleb across state chasing a job opportunity soon afterward, but… it felt like it had happened too fast.
I couldn’t help thinking we might’ve been able to fix things and be a family again if she could just sit still for five minutes with me.
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The drive to the campsite was excruciating. Every attempt at conversation hit a wall.
“How’s school?”
“Fine.”
“And soccer?”
“Fine.”
“Your friends?”
“Fine.”
I watched him from the corner of my eye, this stranger wearing my son’s face. He’d grown so much in the past year. His jawline was sharper, losing its boyish softness. He had my nose, Megan’s eyes. When had he started looking so old?
Close up of a teen boy’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Okay then. Good to know everything’s fine.” I tried to keep my voice casual. “How’s, uh, things with Evan?”
Caleb tensed beside me. “He’s okay. He helps me with math.”
My stomach twisted, but I kept my tone even. “That’s good.”
He glanced at me like he could read every thought crossing my mind. “He’s not that bad.”
I forced a chuckle. “That’s a glowing review.”
“At least he’s there,” Caleb muttered, so quiet I almost missed it.
An emotional teen boy | Source: Midjourney
“You know I’m doing my best, bud. The distance, work… it would help if you spent more than a few minutes on the phone when I call, or answered my texts.”
He rolled his eyes at me and put in his earbuds. Conversation over. My fingers clenched on the steering wheel and I kept driving.
The road had turned to dirt miles ago, winding deeper into the forest, where the trees pressed closer with each mile. The air grew thick with the scent of earth and moss — it smelled ancient, like a place time forgot.
A dirt road through a forest | Source: Pexels
Shadows lengthened across the dashboard as the sun dipped lower. I pulled over near an overgrown path I’d scouted online. No fire rings. No facilities. Just raw wilderness.
“This is it?” Caleb asked, looking distinctly unimpressed.
“This is it. Real camping, like we used to do. You know, they say this is one of the oldest parts of the world?”
Caleb grunted. “We used to camp in state parks. With bathrooms.”
I ignored the jab and started unloading the car. The tent was new. I’d splurged on it for this trip. The old Coleman had gone to Megan in the divorce, along with most of our camping gear. Along with almost everything else.
Backpacks and camping supplies leaning against a car | Source: Pexels
While I set up camp, Caleb kicked at rocks with zero interest. The tent poles clicked together with satisfying snaps, muscle memory taking over despite the years since I’d last done this. I tried bringing up old family camping trips, hoping to spark some nostalgia.
“Remember that time we saw those baby raccoons? Must’ve been four, maybe five years ago?”
Caleb shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Your mom was so worried they’d get into the cooler, but you wanted to leave them hot dogs.”
“Yeah.”
A teen boy glaring at someone | Source: Midjourney
“You ever camp around here with your mom?” I hesitated. “With Evan?”
He shrugged again. “Nah. Some kids at school said people go missing out here, though. Like, forever missing.”
I chuckled. “Let me guess, Bigfoot snatches them?”
A smirk tugged at his mouth. “More like things that sound like people, but aren’t.” Then he waved it off. “I dunno. They’re just messing around.”
“Sounds about right. So, are you going to help me with this?”
A man pitching a tent | Source: Pexels
Caleb sighed and sulkily proceeded to be as ineffectually helpful as a 13-year-old could be. Eventually, the tent stood ready, a blue dome against the darkening sky.
“Here.” I tossed the sleeping bags at him. Instead of catching them, they hit him in the chest, one after the other.
“What the hell, Dad?” Caleb snapped.
“Hey, language!” I admonished him. “Lay out our sleeping bags and I’ll get the fire going.”
Caleb sniffed and muttered something that made me see red.
An emotional teen boy | Source: Midjourney
“…don’t care about me, just dragged me into the forest to boss me around.”
“What did you say?” I spun round to face him. “I brought you here so we could spend time together. Why are you acting like this?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled.
“You could try,” I snapped back. “I’m your dad—”
He scoffed. “Yeah. When it’s convenient.”
That landed like a punch to the gut.
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“You weren’t even around much before the divorce!” His voice rose. “You always had something more important to do. Now, suddenly, I matter?”
“That’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 at the tent pole, making the whole structure shudder. “And now you buy some fancy tent and expect everything to be fine?”
An emotional teen boy yelling | Source: Midjourney
He shook his head, eyes bright with anger and hurt. “I don’t even know where I fit anymore. Mom has her new life with Evan. You have… whatever this is. Where am I supposed to be?”
Before I could respond, he turned and stormed into the trees.
I told myself to let him cool off. He’d come back. But as the sun dipped lower and shadows stretched longer, doubt crept in.
Sunlight shining through trees in a forest | Source: Pexels
The fire’s glow only reached so far. Beyond it, the woods stood in layers of black, the trees barely more than shadows against deeper dark. The silence felt wrong, like the forest was listening. Waiting.
“Caleb?” I stood at the edge of the woods, calling into the shadows. “Caleb!”
A beat of silence. Then my voice called back. “Caleb…”
I froze. Just an echo, I told myself. But it didn’t sound quite right. The inflection was wrong, like someone trying to mimic speech without understanding what the words meant.
A man staring into the forest | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my flashlight and headed into the trees. The beam caught fragments of the forest: moss-covered trunks, tangles of ferns, the occasional flash of eyes low to the ground — probably just raccoons or deer.
I followed Caleb’s footprints until they abruptly stopped. No signs of turning back. No signs of where he went. I called for him again but heard only the weird echo of my voice.
The trees were old here, their branches weaving so tightly overhead that they swallowed the sky. The air felt heavy, pressing in from all sides.
A forest during twilight | Source: Pexels
No wind stirred the leaves. No birds called. Just the distant drip of water and the occasional creak of shifting wood.
Up ahead, a shape stood between the trees. Too tall. Unmoving.
My heart hammered. “Caleb?”
“Caleb,” my echo repeated. “Caleb?”
The flashlight flickered. The shape remained still, watching as I drew closer.
A man staring apprehensively in a forest | Source: Midjourney
It was just a twisted tree. Relief flooded me, but unease lingered.
Then I heard Caleb’s voice calling, and I ran toward it without thinking.
I nearly stepped right into the gully. It yawned open just past the tree line, a steep drop masked by fallen leaves and ferns.
My flashlight beam caught Caleb at the bottom, half-covered in dirt. His face was pale, eyes too wide.
“Dad, help!”
A teen boy calling out to someone | Source: Midjourney
I slid down without hesitation. The earth gave beneath my boots, sending me skidding. I landed hard, hands scraping against damp rock.
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, but his gaze flicked to the darkness beyond. “I’m okay, Dad, but… I don’t think we’re alone down here.“
My pulse spiked. “What do you mean?”
A frightened man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“Something chased me in the woods. I heard… I heard you calling me, 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 gully was deeper than I’d first thought. The walls stretched high, the trees above forming a jagged black crown against the night sky. Something moved nearby. I swung my flashlight around, and the beam landed on a shape a few yards 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 quite look right. Each joint bent like a puppet being manipulated by inexpert hands.
“Dad…” Caleb frowned. “Look at how it’s moving. Maybe it’s injured?”
I lifted the flashlight slightly. The deer’s eyes did not reflect the light normally. Instead, they seemed to draw it in and devour it. An icy chill ran down my spine and my chest squeezed tight.
I kept my voice steady. “Come on. If it’s hurt, we shouldn’t be near it. Could have rabies. We need to get out of here.”
A terrified man in a forest | Source: Midjourney
He hesitated, then nodded.
We scrambled out of the gully. Neither of us looked back. The sound that followed us wasn’t hooves on leaves: it was the wet slap of something soft dragging itself across the ground.
We both broke into a run. The sound grew louder, faster, tearing through the underbrush behind us as we ran.
The campfire’s glow grew closer through the trees, but just as we glimpsed the site, Caleb yelled, “Dad!”
A man staring back fearfully | Source: Midjourney
I turned back. He was gripping his ankle and grimacing, and that sickly sound was drawing closer.
I threw Caleb over my shoulder and sprinted for the fire. I didn’t know what was dragging itself through the forest after us, but I felt certain that if I found out, it would be the last thing I did in this life.
We collapsed by the fire. I grabbed one of the logs I’d gathered and spun to face the trees, wielding it like a weapon.
A man holding a log facing a dark forest | Source: Midjourney
There was nothing there. Even the sound had stopped. I stood there a few more minutes, just to be certain it was safe, and then I put the log on the fire and crouched down beside Caleb.
Caleb had pulled his knees to his chest. He looked younger suddenly. Smaller. I started tending to his ankle, and neither of us spoke for a long time.
Finally, he muttered, “I didn’t mean what I said before.”
I shook my head as I rifled through the first aid kit. “Yeah, you did. And you were right.”
A first aid kit on a bag in a campsite | Source: Pexels
He sighed. “I just don’t know where I fit anymore. Everything’s different.”
My throat tightened. I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my face. “You fit here. With me. Even when things are messed up. Even when I mess up.”
He looked at me, doubtful. “Even if we don’t see each other much?”
“Even then. Look, I know I haven’t been… I haven’t been the dad you deserve. But I want to do better. I want to be here. Please, just… let me.”
A small, quiet understanding passed between us. He leaned slightly 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 soon afterward. Caleb drifted off 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 used to crawl into my lap during thunderstorms, who believed his dad could fix anything.
A teen boy sleeping | Source: Midjourney
Maybe things weren’t perfect, but this was a start. Tomorrow we’d head home, back to our complicated lives and shared custody schedules, but something had shifted tonight, some small repair in the fraying bonds between father and son.
Somewhere in the darkness beyond our fire, a deer barked.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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