This is a true story and happened a few years ago. I was in a controlled forest that is near where i live, one of those forests that are surrounded by endless suburbia and are slowly being eaten away. Me and three friends were following a side trail of a side trail, we had tools into the forest for unnecessary reasons, such as 2 shovels and a machete, as we were following these trails we saw all sorts of bizzare things, the first being a trash pile containing broken lawn chairs and other junk that had been building up over the years due to people partying there. We walked deeper into the forest and found some more stuff such as another party area with a destroyed, burnt lazy boy in pieces and neglected campfire containing bits of overcooked sausage all around it and a tupperware lid with what looked like ketchup and mustard mixed together on it. We past that and went even deeper into the forest as the trail gotten more difficult to pinpoint. We approached an open area in the forest where someone dug out a mini bmx stunt trail with a jump over a muddy hole that seemed impossible to actually air over, there was also a good ammount of old clothes and a backpack laying around. We didnt walk very far after that because I noticed something weird to my left. In a small side path was what looked like a tiny hill, about 6 feet tall perfectly surrounded by trees with a tarp on top of the hill. I told my friends about and we all noticed it, we were quite confused on what it could actually be; at first I thought it was another large pile of trash being held together by a tarp and trees, but when we inspected further, we found something completely different. It looked to be a tiny shack built with wood, mud and tarps. It was quite cool seeing it at first because the walkway into the shack were small cement stairs leading into the tiny hill with a metal door. The picture attached is what the entrance looked like. I was holding the machete at the time but since I closest to the entrance of this weird creation with my friends standing behind me since it was a narrow path leading up to the shack, I requested a shovel as that would be a better tool/weapon in this instance. To the left of the entrance I saw some junk such as the barrel of a needle and a empty Coke bottle, both laying ontop of another tarp, I used the shovel to lift the tarp and saw what looked like camping equipment, such as a mini camping grill. Me and my friends spent a few solid minutes talking loudly and gracfully as if we were alone about how cool and creepy this forest shack was, one of my friends noticed solar panels on top of the hill which threw us off a bit because it didnt looked like it belonged there and I told them about what I was seeing. These things that we talked about werent sitting right with two of my friends as the mysterious can be frightening while I was very curious to see what was inside this abandonned looking shack, keep in mind that I was pretty confident that no one was in or around the shack except me and my three friends due to the lack of response from the volume of our conversation. I was pretty determined to continue investigating so I walked down the first few steps of the entry way. As I was doing this, I started to notice the smell, it was horrible, the chemical, rotten cheeto type smell that you would expect from a crackhouse or something. The smell made me evaluate what I was about to do as my original plan was to jut open the door with my hand, but now I decided to just use the shovel I have to jig it into the door handle to see if the shack door was loose enough to swing open. The second I hit the shovel against the door handle, We all heard a muffled, brief 'aah' scream from the inside, that sounded like the tone of a witch. The second we heard that, we all ran out of there in an instant, completely shocked that someone was inside there, almost waiting for us. We ran way back through the trail and hid behind the little BMX mound for a quick moment then left the forest immediately after. We were all completely shocked by this and I spent a while arguing with my friend about whether it was a man scream or a woman scream (i thought it sounded feminine).

I have a lot of good memories in that little section of forest. Going there with my brother and catching tadpoles, walking with my dog, burying pets. After that incident, the forest held a different feeling. It didn't feel safe and it was disturbing that on these trails, surrounded by 2 story upper class suburbia, where I knew kids played and explored on, there was crackheads, leaving their junk around, diving deep in the worst parts of themselves, leaving needles around. It was sort a new disturbing filter of maturity now held over the forest. A relaxing stroll through the forest is the last time I want to see an unpredictable woods vagabond. People say abandoned building are a real threat to explore, not because of any supernatural forces or anything you would see in a horror movie, but for these crackheads who will do anything in the rhelm of unpredictability to get whatever they desire. You could walk around the wrong corner and end up with a dirty old needle jabbed into your arm. It is not likely but it is a possibility considering the assumed reason they are there in the first place.

Me and one of my friends that was with us the first time went back later that year in the winter, we walked through the quiet forest and looked from a distance, we believe that we saw two more of these hobbit holes created in the forest, they expanded. We found some snowshoes and threw one away and threw a rock at one of the shelters (immaturity). We then went again the following summer and as we were leaving the forest, we swore we saw a man in a dirty white t-shirt walking from the direction that the shelters were. I also went with my brother in the following winter though we didn't see any activity from the shelters. It always felt vague and mysterious, walking through those trails. After a few years, I see that all the good memories I have had in that forest, overweigh that silly deep section of the forest with crackheads. I have heard stories of people going in groups in their own nearby forests and forcing out these homeless people for these similar reasons of concern. We now see a bigger rise in drug addicts, people setting up tents and living in the streets and parks, chained by their addictions. Maybe one day I will return to see the state of things in that section of the forest once again.



Shantys Long Forgotten
I approach the disfigured reminence of
Shantys assaulted by the passage of time.
A smell encompassing my nostrils; of damaged
Humanity feeding the poverty and desperation
Of indulgences incurable and addictive.
A setting pillaged and surrounded by the
Calming sprawling of natures unintentional attack.
Cedar leaves shading these forgotten huts,
Plastics trash and needles once adored
From the happy midday sun.

Should one be curiously cheerful to see such an abandonment?
Images of a recovering vagabond cherished by the embrace of a distant family.
Or should gloom overpower at such devastating reminders
Of regretful injections preventing a continuation of life and love.

Their dependancies on a wonderous climax.
Perfection in senses tumbling rock bottom into lunacy.
Frayed tarp, mud and sticks together formed homes
Where these subhuman nomads gathered and rejoiced
In the ignorance and illusion of a shared reliance.
Hurt and destroyed souls form in the outskirts,
In deep in the forests culminating an appearance of a pigsty
I leave this shanty ghost town of suffering
With a tear in my eye.

September 6th, 2024 - it is in rougers forest where times are indeed had...'