The Forest


When I was younger mother and father sat me down to tell me

“Never go into the forest. Never run away from home.”

I was curious about the forest so I asked, “Why?”

They looked at me with cold dead eyes, something I never thought they would do, and simply silenced my curiosity.

From that moment on, my bedtime stories consisted of reasons why we should stay away from the forest.

They described it as cold, frozen with no mercy.

An empty hell, filled with isolation.

As the years passed, I began to acquire a fear for this forest.

However, when I looked upon it’s complex features it called to me. It seduced me with ideas and words beyond my comprehension.

I was just a child, I had no will power and well, “Curiosity killed the cat.”

One stormy evening after having have fought with my parents. I was filled with this anger. How can a parent tell their child to silence their questions and creativity. I felt a prisoner! So I went towards the only place were I was listened to, the Forest.

It had become my ally, my friend. It protected me and listened to my words.

That day, I ran through the thick fog and storm. I let the water brush against my face. As I looked back, I could faintly see and hear my parents doubled over crying out for me to come back.

I kept running.

In a dark clearing, deep inside it’s trap, I foolishly believed I was safe.

It didn’t speak to me with that charm as it had before. No, it was so cold and frigid. Just like mother had described. It was unwelcoming, just as father onces warned.

I became hesitant and tried to leave. As soon as I took that small step back, the forest engulfed me in it’s darkness.

It grew thorns that pierced through my delicate skin. Its words were daggers that ate away my joy.

From my soul, I ripped away pieces to create iron bars. Around me I created a wall to protect me.

Years later, now that I am old and withering, I am trapped inside the cage that was once meant to protect me.

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