Howling with Wolves

Chapter One

My backyard stretches into the dense woodland that surrounds the small town of Edenwood. The dark green leaves are thick and heavy as I push them aside, stepping on sticks and decaying leaves that have fallen to the ground.

The sound of small animals scattering around through the trees causes calm to wash over my heavily weighed down mind. Leaves that hang low from thick tree branches brush against my bare arms and legs, their light, itchy touches caressing my ivory skin.

I follow a familiar path, marked with small red ribbon. I come here often, so to stop myself from getting lost, I had marked a tree every one to two meters. It proved to be useful as the years went on.

My parents were fighting again. They had been fighting a lot lately over minor things. Like dad not doing the dishes, or mum not making the bed in the morning. It all seemed so useless.

At one point in time, my parents were loving towards each other. They hardly ever fought, and if they did, the issue was resolved quickly with a few apologies and tender hugs and kisses. Now, now they yell and scream at each other, slamming doors, cupboards, anything that opened would be slammed shut.

When I was young, if they had a disagreement, they made sure they never discussed it in front of me. They don’t seem to care about me witnessing their quarrels anymore. Though, even if they did go to their room, have the door shut, the sound of their once light voices would still ring in my ears.

The red ribbon ends, stretching into yellow. The path goes deeper this way.

My fingers brush against the wet leaves. Sun is shining through the gaps that have managed to find their way down to the forest floor. The sound of cicadas are loud; there is a small stream of water that runs through this part of the woods. Small dips and crevices allow the water to run and flow, stopping at a tiny, mud worn puddle. Frogs croak by the stream.

I have to step over a broken tree branch to continue. The path I am on takes me deeper into the dense woodland where many of the tree branches have fallen.

There was no way I could stay in the house and listen to the shouting. There was no way I could sit in my room and listen to my father shout at my mother, calling her names, or my mother shouting words back, sometimes I’d hear a palm connect to a face.

I shudder.

Walking through the woods sends a feeling of contentment over my mind. The constant music of the woods has me feeling like I can breathe properly for the first time all day. The air feels fresh in my lungs, the leaves hovering over my skin, the coolness that floats around me. It’s like the moment I step into the woods, it mends me.

As the yellow ribbon becomes nonexistent, I stop and look left then right. This part of the woods has become a lot less thick. I’ve never gone this far before.

I have no ribbons with me, but I push on ahead anyway, my hands idly moving branches aside so I can push through. Here, I have to lift my legs higher to step over a log, then another and another until the trees come apart into a wide opening.

Sun hits every inch of the wide opening. It could almost be a field. But it looked man-made more than it looked natural; like years of hard work and patience had gone into making this area as wide and open as possible.

My mouth falls open at the unexpectedness of the place. Who thought, this far into the woods, there would be a field this open? As I go to take a step into the wide area to get a better look, the sounds of people fighting reach my ears.

Gasping, I step back into the coverage of the trees, my heart pounding in my chest as two boys stumble towards me. Instantly, I recognize their athletic forms.