Alone in the Woods

On my way there I don't look up much since it's already dark.

I just walk quickly, following the dull beam of my flashlight down the winding trail.

Once I get out into the woods. I climb inside my tent and sit alone in the darkness of the night.

The tent is just fine and I don't mind the lifestyle, (and yes, I work before you think about roasting me).

I don't however, like the woods, at night, alone.

If you're wondering - no, I'm not afraid of the dark.

What I do fear are the hundreds of other homeless or homefree (and often unsane) people who may also be out in it.

Sometimes when I'm not sure what I hear, I shut off my light and sit wide-eyed in the muggy blackness, willing my breath to be shallow and inaudible.

Times when I'm truly afraid, I set a pair of scissors next to me since I don't have a knife.

I then take my belt and wrap the end of it around my wrist so that if needed, I could use the buckle as a weapon.

I'm not new to camping but I have never before felt so threatened while staying in a particular area. 

I find this funny because on many occasions (in other locations), I have been verbally harassed, robbed and shooed away or rejected.
(I think the last one is a presence thing, based on perception).

The town I'm in for the time being, is one of those that people rave about about and seem to adore.

Yet, they either don't know or don't care to know that their beloved town has another, much darker side of people who lurk in the shadows at night or venture out into the woods - all of us seeking shelter and safety and praying to wake another day.