When I was a kid, we went to the Pocono Mountains every summer. There was about an acre or so of forest behind our house that we weren’t allowed to go into. Naturally, the older kids always explored the woods at night, and told us freaky stories about girls with long blonde hair in black dresses without mouths that chased them out. One night, I got up for water and looked out the window on my way back. It might’ve been just darkness, but I could swear I saw a fluttering dress and a flash of gold.