Somewhere deep within the Appalachian Mountains, Lindy was learning to walk.

Her mother and father had just cleared the double-wide of all hazards and rented a carpet cleaner from the local grocery store. Then, they worked as a team to keep their baby girl steady and beckoned her from afar. With each timid step, they relished the way the sunlight streamed through their trailer’s windows and onto Lindy’s golden blonde hair. It was as if the Earth spun just a bit slower to keep the light on their little girl as she stomped her way across the room. 

Things like that kept Lindy’s parents’ marriage afloat. It was easy to hide the uncertainty of raising a kid at the ages of 18 and 23 when their daughter was at such a tender age. They took the time to make things work, and as a result, Lindy never had to witness the worst of it.

When she turned six, the couple had finally saved enough money to purchase a house. It was hard to imagine what they could do with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, but it was even more difficult to comprehend how they could manage more 12-hour shifts. With both parents on the brink of exhaustion, Lindy spent her formative years roughhousing with the other kids in the neighborhood or daydreaming in the fields of the nearby farm. Yet, her dad would always make time to take her off-roading on the nearby trails.

In many ways, Lindy led a perfectly normal life. She threw temper tantrums and said her prayers. She ate vegetables and collected bugs. Now and then, she would get chastised for staying too long at a friend’s house or putting her elbows on the table, but there was never any need for her father to get out his belt for a whooping. Lindy was patient, kind, and virtuous. The only thing that appeared to hold her back was the state that she called home.

In North Carolina, Lindy had grown acquainted with her southern identity. It was a place where accents were celebrated, and modesty was key. Everyone helped each other but knew when to keep their distance. The only time there’d be a problem was when someone wandered onto private property, and even then, the owner would be more than happy to help if the trespasser were truly lost.

There was nothing inherently wrong with the state. It was only misunderstood due to the expectations that outsiders had placed upon it. People from Appalachian areas are typically depicted with missing teeth, indistinguishable language, and a thirst for godly moonshine. No one takes the time to meet the folks within the mountains. If they did, they would have discovered a very different side of the South.

Behind closed doors, many Appalachian residents build lives centered on trust, respect, and responsibility. Family often comes first, and it is the key to happiness and success. Their love for their unique culture is evident as they work hard to support their children and protect their land. At the end of the day, they are as creative, hard-working, and intelligent as anyone else. Unfortunately, one man did not expect the same of Lindy’s father, Thomas, on one fateful day.

“You’re ripping me off, man! You didn’t touch a damn thing on this car,” a customer had shouted after inspecting the work Thomas had completed on his truck.

As an auto mechanic, Thomas was used to customers fretting over price gouging or false modifications. It was a valid concern in a day and age with large companies placing hefty charges over small mechanical issues. Yet, Thomas took pride in his honest work and had spent hours tracking down and installing a new carburetor. As a result, he wasn’t willing to be shut down so easily.

“Sir, I can assure you that this truck has been worked on today. Should be runnin’ twice as fine now, and I promise I ain’t upchargin’ by a single cent. Go on and take a look for yourself,” Thomas explained as the man fumed before him. When they had spoken the day before, the customer was on day two of a trip from Michigan to Florida when the check engine light came on. He was anxious about stopping in such a desolate place but took pride in his ability to face adversity. What adversity? Thomas wasn’t sure.

“I’m not going under there! Trust me, I know when something has been fixed, and this isn’t fixed.”

“Alright… Well, let’s go talk to my boss—" Thomas began as he raised his hand to point the way toward the office in the back of the shop when his customer cut him off with a surprised shout. The man had taken Thomas’ quick movement as a threat and was suddenly holding a gun to Thomas’ head. Without a second thought, he flipped the safety and pulled the trigger.

Thomas didn’t even have time to register the danger he was in.

A few hours later, the police came to Lindy’s house to deliver the news to her mother. That is when life became not-so-normal.

By the time little Lindy had turned eighteen, she had graduated with honors with an image of her father plastered upon her graduation cap. She was as ambitious as ever but was eager to escape the state she had come to associate with something akin to hell. Her mother was 36 and ready to abandon ship as well, happily supporting her daughter’s decision to go out west for college. Over time, their bond had only grown stronger over their shared trauma, and their link to Appalachia weakened as a fear of unknown evils crept into their minds.

Would they ever be free of the curse society had put upon the culture they cherished most?

Lindy was willing to do anything to try, but she wanted to leave the area before coming to terms with it. Yet, there was one last place she had to visit before she said goodbye.

The Brown Mountain off-roading trails.

As she drove her father’s old Jeep through the woodlands the week before she was due to fly to California for school, Lindy found peace in her surroundings. She did not think of the tragic death of her father or the negative stereotypes of the place she called home. She simply took in the views around her and allowed her vehicle to serve as a method of distraction.

Lindy had fond memories of the trails. She could remember her mother screaming as her father jokingly took a turn too fast or the sting of dirt in her eyes as it was kicked up by the topless Jeep’s tires. They had even made a habit out of packing large lunches for their adventures, happily eating pimento cheese sandwiches and hard pretzels before continuing their drive.

The memories brought tears to Lindy’s eyes as she focused on the trail ahead, ignoring the fading sunlight as the night came out to play. Thomas had always been wary of the dark when it came to off-roading, but Lindy had never understood why. In her mind, the elements of the dark and unknown made the journey more thrilling, especially after traversing the same dirt roads after all those years. But Thomas had never clarified his reasoning for avoiding Brown Mountain at night, and Lindy had never asked, so it was only a matter of time before she stopped following her father’s suggestion.

With the stars slowly climbing up the sky, Lindy rushed to reach the overlook to catch her first glimpse of the mountainous landscape in the dark. The Jeep was also in need of a break, and it was time to stop reminiscing. Lucky for Lindy, it also appeared that the overlook was empty for the time being. The comfort of being alone would only add to the bliss of being one with nature.

After parking near the overlook’s edge, Lindy jumped out of the driver’s seat and made her way onto the hood of the vehicle. From there, she was offered the most luxurious view of the night sky. Constellations and satellites alike filled her surroundings. As a warm breeze began to enter the mix, Lindy found herself cursing her father for keeping his family away from the beauty of Brown Mountain after dark. Perhaps she wouldn’t have planned to venture so far from home if she were more in tune with Appalachia’s natural environment.

Even the intriguingly beautiful line of glowing orbs in the distance were enough to make Lindy wish she had stayed.

…

Glowing orbs?

“Wait a minute. What the heck?” Lindy asked herself, sitting as straight as possible to get a better look at the lights in the distance. They appeared to hover above the treetops, proving too high to be headlights and too low to be an aircraft. Lindy was truly perplexed by the sight in front of her eyes, and the all-too-familiar reminder of her father’s warning about avoiding Brown Mountain at night made her stomach twist in fright.

Unfortunately, Lindy was not in the mood to deal with potential shenanigans. If she were to take a stab at a logical explanation, she would think a group of boys were playing with drones to pass the time. Still, she felt compelled to ensure her assumption was true rather than leave the lights alone as her rationality slipped away along with her fear of walking through unmarked and strictly forbidden foot trails at night. The short trek to the mysterious lights had begun.

As Lindy slapped away branches and trampled bushes, she thought about the dangers of wildlife nearby. Would she stumble across a black bear or be greeted by a wily coyote? Maybe a bobcat would make an entrance and promptly scurry away to hunt down its next small target. Either way, Lindy was not amused at the thought of what loomed in the dark, and part of her acknowledged that whatever happened next would be completely her fault.

Fortunately, she did not encounter any scary beasts as she made her way to the orbs. Only the oddly decreasing temperature and crack of twigs under her shoes were left to keep her company. It kept Lindy grounded in reality as she headed toward uncertainty and reminded her of the beauty of the landscape she had been fortunate to be raised within. If she had been raised anywhere outside of the woodlands, she would’ve never made it as far as she was going.

Eventually, Lindy found herself approaching a small clearing as she closed in on her targets. It appeared well-maintained yet never touched, adding to the mystique that had infused itself into the night. Why have a clearing in such a remote location when even the outskirts of Brown Mountain offered enough privacy? Why travel this far to mess with some lights?

Speaking of the lights, where were they?

Ah, there they were. Three perfectly round globes of light hovering high up in the sky, grazing the tippy-tops of the trees with a slight hum. Lindy would have thought they were drone-like if it weren’t for the fluidity of their movement, and there was nothing to suggest that there were people with remotes controlling them nearby. The best way to describe them was “ethereal,” and for a moment, Lindy believed that the God she had prayed to her life was real.

But when the orbs began to sizzle and pop as the trees started to groan, she was distinctly aware of the thought that these orbs were not meant to be seen at all.

“Oh shit, what am I doing?! I need to get home!” Lindy shouted to nothing in particular. She hoped her readiness to leave would calm the floating lights and cease their frantic nature. Instead, it contributed to their frenzy until the tension broke with an audible pop! Then, the three orbs were no longer in a horizontal line. They were conjoining, forming one brilliant source of light as they slowly navigated their way to the ground.

Lindy froze like a deer in a hunter’s line of sight as the light neared her, instilling her with a sense of unease not unalike to what she felt when her father died. It led her to tightly shut her eyes in hopes that the strange nightmare unfolding before her would all be over as a tear began to softly roll down her cheek. And with that, the light quickly died as Lindy watched it fade beneath the cover of her eyelids.

One second. Two seconds. Three. Four.

Lindy released a shuddering sigh of relief with her hand over her heart and allowed herself to open her eyes. The newly formed apparition in front of her allowed himself to do the same.

“Oh, my lil’ Lindy. My sunshine, I’ve missed you so much,” her father said as he reached out with his arms made of ghostly light and enveloped his daughter for the last time in the dead of night, for he was just another addition to the galaxy of the Brown Mountain Lights.