It has been three days since we’ve entered this forest. My friends, Tim, Tom, and I came here looking for something to make us rich. The only thing in this forest are trees.
“How long has it been?” Tom asked.
“It has been three days,” I tell him, “and it will be three more keep stopping for Timmy.” Now Timmy is not a bad guy he just a little round and a little out of shape.
“Guys wait up you know I’m not that fast.” Tim yell from way back.
“I’m gonna go scout ahead,” I tell Tom “wait here for little Timmy back there.” Then I leave to go look for a way out. In five minutes I find the way out. So I go back to tell them and then we all leave. It turns out that the inside of the tree is gold. So we big dumb now.
The lush plants surrounding you reach their flourishing branches and stalks into the sky, which, although blocked by the thick knot of tree branches, still shines through the leaves, casting the verdant forest floor with a pleasant green light. A calm breeze wafts through the forest, swaying the great trees gently. While you stand here, among the teeming life, your troubles seem insignificant, and all you can do is live in the moment. The issues of the world and the sadness that crept over you ever since they left you that gray evening dissipate with the breeze, replacing the cold feeling of regret with a warm sensation you can’t describe. Carelessly, you wander out of the dim shadow of the forest and into an open field, where the tall grass waves sleepily. As you walk among the chirping grasshoppers through the grass, hundreds of thin, fragile arms reach up, all trying to reach the great golden ball that shines down on everything.
It was a mid November afternoon. The days were getting shorter, and colder. Becca and her friend Sam decided to take their dogs for a walk on a trail they had never seen before. They left after lunch on a Sunday afternoon expecting to be gone for just an hour or two. At least that’s what they expected.
After an hour and a half the girls decided it would probably be a good idea to start heading back for the evening. After a mile of walking they came to a four way branch in the trail. They could not remember which way they had come from. Even worse they didn’t remember this branch in the trail at all. They figured they would just continue straight because that seemed most logical not remembering turning onto a new trail.
Ten minutes later Sam said “I think we are almost there I can feel it.”
“I don’t know Sam,” Becca responded, “It feels like we are going backwards again.”
After 5 terrible days of walking, we’ve finally made it back. My friends and I thought it would be fun to go on a week long camping and hiking trip, we didn’t know those things lived on the mountains, we heard stories about them as kids, but we always thought they were just stories to keep us from going to far away from the house. Now we know better than to play off anything as folklore. Now we’re all skeptical of what’s real and what’s not, since the stories our parents told us we’re real, how do we know that all the things we’re told about aren't real? What if Krampus is real, what if every “fictional” character is real. On our first day we heard them but thought nothing of it, just a couple of wolves howling at the moon. On the second day, we saw one, but we we’re all tired so we all thought it was our imagination. And the third day, one was trying to steal our food, so we tried to poke it with a stick and yelled at it, that didn’t work, that just got it more angry.
I took one last look at the clearing behind me and started into the forest holding my breath, this was the only place my parents have strictly forbidden me to go. The dark trees towered over me, growing more and more frightening the deeper I traveled into the forest. I jumped as I heard something crack behind me Don’t be scared it’s just a twig, don’t be scared it’s just a twig. I thought to myself, I slowly turned around… big surprise it was just a twig. I let out a breath I realized I had been holding in that whole time although, what else would it have been?
The misty image of a lush forest appears below me. I am not solid, just a foggy image in the darkness of a forgetful mind. Yet I can see what once was a blank canvas becomes a light clearing in a dark forest. Perhaps like me, a bright thought in a shadowy corner of the brain. I gaze down from my uplifted point of view. Noticing every leaf’s color and every blade of grass’s shape come to life. Suddenly the whirring of the brain stops, changes direction, and reaches back to the farthest corner of itself. Groping around in the dark, it’s fingers wrap around me and pull me into the light. Abruptly, I find myself slowly floating down towards the painting. I land gently on the small dirt path, that, not long before, had been carefully placed just there. I catch a brief glimpse of woods I am now standing in before I turn to face my, and the paintings, creator. The giant face, not unlike my own, stares down at me, tilts in thought, and frowns.
I walked through the forest at dusk. I could hear the faint sound of an owl calling my name as I stumbled over fallen trees. It was dark, yet I knew of the clearing ahead of me. I kept walking, trying to avoid tree branches slowly threatening me. As I approached the clearing, I watched as golden beams of energy erupted before me. I knew I had made it soundly. I walked through the passage and decided to climb up a tree. Allowing myself to take a deep breath, I let the tree’s bark enclose its arms around me. I sat on top of the tree waiting for the sun to set. In other words, I sat on top of the tree waiting for everything to set. The clearing brought new beginnings, and I was ready to be wrapped up in all of them.
I look back through the trees at the world I love so dearly that I may never see again inhaling through my nose I embrace the smell of the woods loamy and rich the smell of living things and something else something . . . more, my true home "Goodbye." I whisper, trailing my fingers over the messy letters carved into our tree and before you wake up I leave only a note and my mudd caked sneakers are left soon enough you'll find them but by that time I'll be far away somwhere I can't hurt either of us somewhere deep in a world your not ready to find your not ready to know about