Trigger warnings: Dark subjects ahead.
Sequel stories to “Midnight Walk” and “Held together by a Thread”
On a walk at mid-night time, I explored a forest which I used to know, although it had completely changed. I discovered many abandoned pieces of history which everyone seemed to forget. Finally, while gazing at myself in the river from the top of an old but sturdy concrete bridge, I noticed the sun woke up. It was time to go back home.
My husband, still affected by his actions during the fight the night before and while haunted by his thin patience, was looking for some rope, which I took during the night. He wanted to complete chores he should have done before the first snowfall of the year, which coincided with the night of my death. My husband, desperate for the rope, decided to go to the abandoned factory I had discovered the night before, without knowing what—or who—he would find hanging by the very same rope he had been looking for.
She knew this gigantic forest like the back of her hand. She liked to come here everyday, when the man who was her father was drinking and hitting. The forest was gigantic, especially for her young feet, but she enjoyed going there. She never got lost and she never found anything out of the ordinary. It was just the forest for miles and miles again. It was just trees for miles and miles again. Nothing more and nothing less.
Like the back of her hand.
She sometimes found a beautiful river, keeping her from exploring too far into the forest. She went swimming there sometimes, but most often than not, she took care of the pretty flowers that grew in the forest. With all the snow gone, they could stop withering and go back to growing. She made sure they would always grow up beautiful, because she could not bear to think their caregiver—her—could do her harm, the way her caregiver did her harm sometimes.
Her mother was gone before the first snowfall this year.
Today though, she was here to escape. The man’s drinking was particularly bad today and he had already tried to hurt her. Luckily for her, she escaped, but she was scared he might try to follow her into her forest, so she decided that today, she would swim to the other shore of the river, and only come back when he’d be too drunk to try to hurt her again.
She would swim and finally she would be free.
On her way to the river though, she saw some of her lilies did not look right. Something, an animal, had tried to eat its roots. Half eaten, the whole plant was a mess. She took a few minutes of her time to try to put the plant to normal, but it was too late to protect it. Now, she could only hope her work would be enough to save it, but she could not be sure. Finally, she stood up away from the plants and kept walking in the direction of the river.
Poor flowers.
An owl—yes an owl—flew by and almost caught her hair. She was not scared though. She was not used to this sort of thing, but it was not the first time she had met a wild animal which took curiosity in her. The bird was still there, sitting on a branch, looking at her. She said “hi” to the bird and kept walking.
Spring is beautiful, isn’t it?
She then saw a beautiful raven on another branch. It glared at her, almost full of hate. Suddenly, it took flight. It flew over her head, this time grabbing her hair. It let go pretty quickly, but then it flew towards the owl. Without a second thought, the bird flew to the other and attacked. The battle was scary. The girl was begging, “Stop! Stop!” but they would not let go. Pretty quickly, the fight got bloody. One bird was left on the ground, bloody, hurt, while the other, triumphant, got to feast.
Stop!
She ran away from the scene of the fight before it became too much to bear. Finally, she could hear the sound of rushing water. She was getting ready to cross the water, but she saw something weird in the mud. She saw the prints of a pair of boots, which led further in the direction where the water was going towards. The girl silently followed the footprints, scared of what she might find. Either it would be a stranger, or it would be…
How drunk was he?
The man was there. He didn’t see her. Not yet. She slowly walked backwards. A twig snapped. He turned around. “What are you doing here,” he said angrily. She then answered “I’m sorry I was only gone for a moment.” He then replied, “You’ve been gone too long. I thought you were going to kill yourself like your mom.” “Father, you’re drunk.” “I’ll show you who’s drunk.”
You know I love you.
Running away from the danger, she knew she would not be fast enough if she went in the water and escaped to the other shore like she had originally planned. Luckily for her, he was drunk and she knew perfectly where she was and how to get around. He had never come this far, at least based on what she knew. She ran far, farther than she had ever been. She found new terrain and then she left the river behind only to meet it again half a mile later. He was probably not following her anymore, but she could not take the risk. She found an old dirt road that was invaded by long grass. It had certainly been a road before though.
She then saw it.
An old, but certainly sturdy bridge stood in front of her. She stopped dead in her tracks. It was beautiful. It was magnificent. She did not know why, but she found herself attracted to the bridge. She knew that somewhere in that direction, she would be free. She knew it would be her only escape from the one who caused all of those bruises on her body. She could only escape the man who called himself her father by using that bridge. There was a boy there too. He was standing in the middle of the bridge.
Maybe he could save her.
She was going to say something. What could she say, really? Just a plain “Hello?” Wasn’t that not a little bit too simple? But what else could she say? She was about to utter the simple word to the boy, who was observing her, when she heard a twig snap behind her. She turned around, letting out a shriek. There he was, the man. She tried to run towards the boy, but it was in vain. The man caught her by the waist and pulled her back in. She fell to the ground and tried to hold on to the dirt and the grass and the roots with her bare hands. Anything to get away from the man’s grip. She tried to claw her way out, but it was in vain. She looked towards the boy. He was nowhere in sight.
Help me.
