History

You never know who you'll run into in the woods.

The warmth of the August sun sat upon Elizabeth’s shoulders as she thudded through the field facing her large Victorian styled southern home. She could barely control her body as she furiously marched over rocks and dirt, destroying careful arrangements of twigs and pebbles that small neighbor children had made. The piercing sun brought tears to her eyes, and she had to squint to make out the path before her.  She could hear echoes of screaming behind her; threatening her if she were not to turn around, or maybe it was in her head. She began to walk harder, pounding the earth beneath her feet, until the only thing she could hear was her uncontrollable and spastic heartbeat.

She continued to walk until she reached the wood, where she paused for only a minute to survey the tall, dark scenery. The forest before her was abruptly placed on the edge of Elizabeth’s property, and did not belong next to the sun-kissed Louisiana field that took up most of her back yard. 

She has never been in the forest. Her mother had forbade her from even going near it, even though Elizabeth was sure that she would not care if she went in and never came out. She normally didn’t dare try her, and she hesitated for a moment, pondering the possible repercussions of breaching the prohibited area.  

After assuring herself the no one would dare enter the shady wood to follow her, she continued on. The damp air hung above her head, the trees shielding her from the suns powerful rays. She continued to walk angrily, but suddenly became aware of herself and her new surroundings.  Her footing became more steady and slowed, until she finally reached a desolate pool of water. 

Elizabeth clumsily lowered herself on to the floor of the forest and peered into the large pond before her. The rich colors of her surroundings allowed her to fully open her eyes and observe her environment. Tall oak trees were randomly placed throughout the wood, tall and wide. Spanish moss hung from the tips of branches and created a protective canopy above the pond. The ground was surprisingly level, the dirt packed down from animals trampling it for years. There were few rays of sun that broke the thick roof the tops of trees had made, making the temperature surprisingly cool, a refreshing break from the typical 90 degree days Elizabeth was used to in the summer.

She couldn’t help but to replay the past half hour in her head over and over again, revisiting the emotional pain that seized her body when she heard the conversation between her father and mother. “It wasn’t meant for you to hear, you stupid little girl,” was her mother’s reaction when Elizabeth revealed herself from behind the door, after hearing the harsh words she had spat at her father. Her mother breezed past her, the familiar scent of whiskey following her body. When she turned to her father, dying for an explanation, he simply stared back at her.  He offered nothing but a blank expression. She knew then that her mother was really going to leave, and never come back, like she had said she was going to for years.

She kicked the door so hard that it slammed the mirror hanging behind it, shattering the dusty antique to pieces. Her anger quickly turned to fear as she heard her mom stomping up the stairs, screaming as she demanded to know what “that dumb kid” had broken now. Without a second thought, Elizabeth ran to her bedroom, locked the door, and quickly got the rope she kept hidden under her bed out.  She slung it around her wooden bedpost, threw the rest of the rope out the window, and clumsily lowered herself down the side of the house.

And she sat, gazing into the murky waters, as if an answer to her problems would suddenly emerge. Although she knew it couldn’t have been more than a few feet deep, Elizabeth couldn’t see the bottom of the pond. She unlaced her dirty sneakers, threw them aside, and proceeded to graze the tips of her toes in the water.  The water was warm enough to be comfortable, but cold enough to be refreshing.  She bobbed her feet in and out of the water, concentrating on the intense ripple her feet made, slowly evolving from a small wave into a serene current that brushed the edges of the pond.

“Hello.” A voice from behind Elizabeth started her, causing her to quickly withdraw her extended leg in the water and splash herself.  She turned to find a young girl, around the same age as herself, standing before her.

The girl was dressed in clothing that didn’t seem familiar to Elizabeth.  She was covered in a white, airy dress. There were no sleeves, exposing her un-naturally pale arms. 

“Who are you?’ Elizabeth demanded. The girl did not respond, but instead seated herself next to Elizabeth. She watched her, hesitant, yet curious. The girl touched the tip of her finger to the pond, swirled it around, and looked at Elizabeth.

“Grace. My name is Grace. What is yours?” Elizabeth stared back at her, hypnotized by her foreign accent. 

“Lizabeth,” she muttered. 

“That’s a beautiful name, Elizabeth.” Her voice flowed like water. She must have been from the north, and lacked the thick southern accent that Elizabeth was accustomed to. She did not know how to respond to the girl. Her forwardness surprised her, but soothed her fresh angst. 

“Well what are you doing here?” Elizabeth implored. 

“The same thing as you. Escaping.” 

This agitated her. How did she know what she was doing? Had she been watching her?  Grace seemed to read her mind and responded before Elizabeth got a chance to ask.

“I heard a woman. She sounded angry. I saw you running and assumed it was from her.”

“ I wasn’t running. I was walking quickly. And that woman wasn’t yelling she was... singing. She tends to scream when she sings. It’s funny, really.” 

Grace stared back at her, trying to smile but was preoccupied with trying to read Elizabeth’s face. Elizabeth knew she didn’t really believe her, judging by the way Grace carefully surveyed her expression, searching for a twitch or cringe that would prove she was lying. But the small chance that she would, and that she could pretend to be okay for just a few moments was worth lying for.  She could feel Grace’s gaze burning her face, and couldn’t stand looking at her any longer. She turned her attention to a reed brushing her leg in the water.

“Who are you runnin’ from?” Elizabeth implored, trying to sound uninterested and still focusing on the reed.

“Everything,” Grace whispered.  The response confused Elizabeth, and she looked up from the reed and into Grace’s face. She looked outward into the pond, her face still as a statue. She looked as if she was posing for a painting; not daring to move. She was paralyzed by the thought of whatever she was trying to escape, and it sent chills down Elizabeth’s spine.

“That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense,” Elizabeth stated. Returning her attention to the reed.

“Neither does your running away from a woman’s singing.”

Elizabeth wasn’t surprised when she said this, and didn’t have the emotional will to try to resist the depressing truth that she seemingly could not escape.

“She’s not a very good singer.” Elizabeth mumbled. “I’m sick of listening to her.”

Elizabeth glanced at Grace through the corner of her eye. She was drawing circles in the dirt with her fingers.

“My father can’t sing well either. But that’s all he ever does. Sometimes he sings so loud it makes me cry. That’s why I’m here.” 

Grace turned to Elizabeth and smiled faintly. Grace’s pale body looked odd to Elizabeth, she was accustomed to tanned arms and legs in the summer. But the color of her face was all too familiar. The paleness of her cheeks, the red rings around her eyes, and her dry, cracked lips were those of a girl who had been crying for a long time. Not over something like a lost toy or green vegetables, but for something far more serious. Something a child should not have to cry about. The face Elizabeth was opposite was a mirror reflection of her own.

A pang of sorrow shot through Elizabeth’s body, and she tore her gaze away from Grace’s. The silence of the forest surrounding the girls was drowning Elizabeth, and she felt inclined to say something to Grace. Something comforting, something that would ease the pain that was so clearly consuming her. But she could not find the words to say. Her body refused to produce any remark or expression of condolence for Grace, and it frustrated her. She finally turned to Elizabeth and uttered the only words she could generate.

“I’m sorry.”

Grace looked up at her. Elizabeth felt as if her eyes were tearing through her soul, breaching all her hidden thoughts and emotions.

“You don’t have to be. We don’t have to be.”

Elizabeth did not know what she was saying, but she understood her. 

“And why is that?”

“Because we’re going to leave,” she breathed.  

Grace picked herself up. She extended her arm to Elizabeth. Without a second thought, Elizabeth grasped her hand and Grace helped her to her feet.  Elizabeth glanced back at the old house and the blinding sun, breathed deeply, and took a step. And just like that, they left.

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Hannah]

It's a very mysterious story. I like the beginning best, it draws you in. The ending confused me a bit, I would have liked to know more about where this Grace came from, and where they went. Other than that, I like your language.