I went hiking the Appalachian Trail and found something nailed between two trees — a mirror that didn’t reflect the forest. It showed a room instead. My room.

People told me not to touch it. Told me hikers go missing up there. Told me the woods don’t always give you back what you bring in.

I escaped. I made it home.

But now no one remembers me. My family doesn’t know my name. My girlfriend swears I never existed. And every mirror I pass feels like it’s waiting for me to step back inside.

This recording is the only proof I was ever here.