Story I wrote for a contest.

[Lai]

Michael suddenly found himself much more lost than he had originally anticipated. “‘Stay on the path,’ Mother said. ‘Don’t run off the path,’ Mother said. But did I listen? No.” Michael tried patronizing himself to make to the fear go away, yet it did nothing but further fuel his anger. He no longer knew where he was, nor did he have the faintest idea of where he came from. The only way he wanted was the way home. But where on Earth was the way home?

For thirty minutes now, Michael searched the twig and leaf-littered dirt-covered ground for any sign of a stone path. He never would have thought that there was this much of a forest outside of his small town. Michael would always look into the forest from his bedroom window, but his mother would never let him go and play in the trees. Finally, with enough begging, Michael had convinced his mother to let him play in the woods.

He stopped for a moment to place his hands on his hips. For the first time in the half hour that Michael spent in the forest, he tried to stop, calm himself, and gain his bearings. (I can swear I’ve seen this tree before) Michael thought to himself. (But then again, it is common knowledge that many trees look almost exactly the same.) He knew it was a bad joke, but he was growing more and more fearful by the minute and was doing everything he could to keep his mind off of the fact that he was lost in the middle of a forest he had never set foot in before.

Michael looked up through the foliage to the darkening sky above him. The sun was setting on his ninth birthday. It had been a good day, up until a little bit over thirty minutes ago. There was cake, a huge pile of presents just for him, and his mother had finally allowed him to go into the woods to play. Seemingly, however, coming into the woods was a bad idea.

Straying off of the path just seemed to be so tempting, though. A little bunny had run in front of him, and Michael could not resist chasing after it. Of course there was no chance of catching it, but how could he pass up such an adventure? The child’s mind works in fabulous ways and is able to make the most interesting games of the blandest activities.

Now the bunny was nowhere to be found, and the darkness was continuing to settle in for the night. It would not be long now before there was no light at all. As Michael continued to stand, trying to gain his bearings, paranoia and delusions of evil swarmed all through his head and clouded his judgment. All around him twigs were breaking, animals were chewing their dinners, and nonexistent evils plotted against Michael.

With each snap of a twig, a new dark thought shot through Michael’s mind. Was there a monster? Was there a bad man out here? Was he going to die? Maybe he was never going to make it home. As all of the thoughts ran through his mind, tears began to swell in his eyes.

Michael dried his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt and a sniffle. “I have to find my way out of here,” he told himself. “I’ve got to find that path again.” At that, another twig snapped behind him. Michael froze in his tracks. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck begin to stand on end. Slowly, Michael turned around. When he finally saw the squirrel behind him chewing on an acorn, he calmed down a little bit. More and more twigs began to crack and snap as the squirrel turned and ran away from Michael. Each snapping twig continued to unnerve him.

Michael began to slowly back up, turning around ever so slightly, never taking his eye off of the squirrel. He turned and ran as fast as he could to try to get away from whatever he felt was there, not stopping to rest until he found a large sycamore with a small indent in its trunk that he was able to push his body into. He waited there a moment, trying to slow his breath. (I just know something is following me) Michael thought, (but what is it? And why does it have to be so scary?)

Finally having caught his breath again, Michael slowly made his way out of the small indent. As he edged along the outside of the tree, trying to blend in as much as possible, he eyed the forest. Once again, Michael found himself even more last than the last time he tried to gain his bearings. “What was that thing Mom told me? Moss grows on the east side of trees? Or maybe it’s north? Aw, why can’t I remember?” Michael whined. He was growing increasingly frustrated by the minute and was not sure how much longer he could last out in his backyard wilderness.

A leaf began to flutter its way down in front of Michael, and he watched it all the way to the floor, making sure it was not up to anything unusual. He bit his lip waiting for the leaf to touch the floor, praying for it not to make a sound, fearing that it might make whoever was out there aware of his presence. Michael did not know why something wanted him, but as far as he was concerned, he needed to get out of this forest as soon as possible.

The sky had completely blackened by now and the only light available was the twenty second timer that Michael’s Spider-Man watch had. Spider-Man was currently telling him that it was 8 o’clock; he had been out in the forest for an hour now. The longer Michael spent out in the trees, the more afraid he grew and the more certain he was that something was after him. If Michael did not get home soon, he was not sure what he would do.

As he stood there, Michael began to make sense of things. Of course he had no sense of direction in the middle of a forest he had never been in before, but he decided that he would never find his way out of the forest if he never actually tried. Michael began concentrating on the current dirt path he was on, and tried to see if there was anything unusual to notice that might signify the way to the path.

The strangest thing he was able to find, however, was the sycamore he had just hid in. he tried to make a mental note of where the tree was and headed off in the opposite direction. As he walked, dozens of twigs snapped and dozens of leaves crunched beneath his feet. With each noise of the forest, Michael longed even more for the embrace of a familiar face.

Off in the distance, a fawn stood with her neck strained, pointing her head towards Michael. Though he smiled, he could not help but once again fear that this deer or something else was going to strike out at him, and that he needed to get away from it. He turned on his heel to his right and ran as hard as he could.

Panting as he ran, those evil thoughts came back into his head. With every step he took and every breath he drew in, he became more certain that what was after him was going to catch him. Michael felt something grab his foot, and he went straight down to the dirt. As he fell, whatever had hold of his foot seemed to let go. Michael struck his chin on the ground in front of him, not being able to get his hands out in time. His palms became engulfed in the dirt beneath him, and mud, little rocks, and small specks of brown made their way underneath his fingernails and into the small cuts that had run across his hands.

Michael’s knees had struck the ground hard and were throbbing with pain. His ankle seemed to be twisted from the fall that whatever had grabbed his foot had caused, and he had stubbed his big toe on the other foot. Michael lay on the floor for what seemed like an hour to him while tears streamed down his dirt-covered face and into his mouth. As he lay there, he knew that whatever was after him was going to pounce any second now. But why hadn’t it already struck? What was it waiting for? He was down and out, and did not seem like he was going to get up anytime soon.

More minutes passed, and Michael finally found the strength within him to push himself up off of the floor. One hand slid forward while the other found its own hold in the dirt underneath it. As Michael’s right hand slid forward on the dirt, it struck rock. The rock was too large to just be an ordinary pebble lying in the dirt of the forest, so the only other thing it could be…

Michael’s eyes shot open with hope. As he moved his head to look up, a gray stone path came into view. A smile quickly found its way on to Michael’s face as he pushed himself up on to his feet. He walked over the stone path and double-checked it to make sure it was the same path he had been looking for. Michael looked down at his watch, pushed the little button on the side to check the time, and was content with the fact that it read only 9:43. He nodded, and began running along the path back to his house.