Don't Starve

Willow's Story

Wilson's POV: The shadows dance around the light of my camp fire taunting me. I hold my eyes closed and squeeze my head in between my legs, fighting against the calls of the whispers. My breath is shaky and it comes in and out in gasps. Under my eyelids, I can see the red light of the fire. I wanna scream, but do not dare make a sound. I open my eyes just for a second. The cold shadow hands are so close to me now. I close my eyes again and pray for the light of day to greet me once again. Then I hear it, under the whispers I can hear the gears turning on the entrance portal. I jump up at the sound. The metal of the gears and wires screech as the machine lights with life. My heart skips a beat. I wanna move towards it, but I feel the shadows behind me pulling me closer to them. The portal churns and I can see a silhouette in between the blinding orange-yellow light. I stand, the suspense and tension build in me. After so long will I be able to escape.A girl steps out of the portal, her clothes burned and covered in ash. Immediately after she enters into this land of shadow, the portal shuts off with a click. I can finally move. The girl takes two steps before spinning on her toe and falling. Just before she hits the ground, I catch her in my arms. I collapse onto my knees as the force of her fall hits me. Her hair is knotted and burnt at the ends. Her hair is stiff and hard under the copious amounts of ash. As I stare... examine her face, I can feel her stir in my arms. Her eyes flutter open. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Instead of eyes, she just has two sockets in which bright light is leaking through. If I wasn't already on the floor, I would've dropped her right that instant.
Willow's POV: I stare up at the face of a young man. He has his arms around me. His eyes are wide and he looks terrified. I quickly pull myself away from him. He stares into my eyes in horror. My heart beats faster in my chest. I back up further and I feel my back hit against a tree. I'm trapped. He stands and starts cautiously walking towards me. I squeeze my eyes closed. All I can see is fire, although I feel only cold. I feel myself self-consciously stand. Something heats up in my hand as I open my eyes. I'm standing now and the tree behind me has burst into flames. I can feel the smooth service of the lighter's metal against my palm. It feels warm and safe, but under it all I feel something that scares me. I wanna drop it, but I can't seem to let it go. The boy leaps towards me and grabs my arm, pulling me away from the burning tree. His feet slip and we tumble, both ending up on the floor next to the campfire. I can't take my eyes off of the tree. Its branches turning into ash and smoke right before my eyes. I can hear the screams of my melting family. I can see my mothers face swirling up in the flames. My brother is being engulfed in the fire. A sick smile spreads its way over the smoke of the tree. I wanna cry, but I can't feel the tears slide across my face. I pull my legs in close to my body and wrap my arms around them.
"I'm sorry" it comes out as a whisper. "I'm so very sorry." That when I notice the lighter in my hands. My heart is pounding as I stare at my disoriented reflection in the metal. I can see my memories play in my eyes, or what used to be my eyes, some were being corrupted by dark flashes.

I was never normal. My mother dragged me to so many asylums to get rid of me. They never found anything wrong with me though. Not that I ever let them. Soon my mother gave up with trying to force me on to the doctors at the mental health clinics. I was what most of them called a pyromaniac. I was always drawn to the sensation of the fire's warmth against my skin. I would sneak into my mother's bathroom and pull out her "hidden" box of matches. They were never really hidden. Sometimes I thought that she wanted for me to get them. I wish I never ran away that night. I wish I never had that stupid fight with my mother. I'm filled with the empty filling of regret. I remember that night so vividly. Its the only thing I can remember before I woke up in this wretched place. I remember that the metal of the door's handle was cold against the palm of my hand. I turn the lock to the door, shutting myself in. I pressed my ear against the door quietly and waited.I listen for a noise, a sound, just about anything that could indicate that my mother was home. Just silence. I smiled and pulled away from the door. I ran to my mother's jewelry box and ripped open the lid. Pushing past the many trinkets in the box, my fingers finally found what I had been looking for. I pulled out a little box of matches. Inside the box laid at least twelve matches inside. I could feel my heart beating quickly as I struck the match against the rough surface of the outside kid of the box. I watched the fire flicker and spark. Right as the match was dying out, my mother slammed the door open. Her eyes were wild. She briskly walked up to me and snatched the box from me before slapping me on the face. I could still feel her hand on my face when she took hold of my hair and threw me across the room. I took of running. I slammed past my brother and through the front door. I ran towards the forest. Before I could make it past the first few trees, something had caught my attention. In the grass a little off from where I was standing, there was a small lighter.
"Hey there," a voice seemed to draw out of it.
Looking around, I ran over and basically threw myself over it. I took it in my hands.
"Looks like you could use a little pick-me-up" the voice said. The voice seemed to engulf me in its calming, reassuring words. I forgot about everything. I was taken in by the voice and I felt safe that I was supposed to find it. It all felt right. I still regret ever listening to a word it said. I hosted my thumb above the switch to turn it on. I paused only once. Something didn't feel right to me. The whole thing was messed up.
"Do it." was the last thing I remember hearing. I flicked the lighter on. Everything went black. I can't remember anything, it is all shaded by a think cloud of black smoke. The next thing I remember is the fire creeping up the side of my arm. I jolted back and nearly screamed. I was standing back on the porch at my house. Thick puffs of black smoke engulfed the doorway. The lighter was still on in my hand. What had I done? I stood in shock and horror when two long hands shot out of the inky smoke. I turned to run but that caught a hold of my legs and I was pulled back into the flames. That's when I woke up in the arms of that strange man. I'm so sorry for what I have done. I'll live forever in this wrecked place with the quilt and sadness. I never wanted any of this. I wish I were able to cry, but my lack of eyes prevents me from doing so. I hate this place. I hate it so much. I glance over at the young man next to me and he gave a weak smile.
"My name is Wilson." he said pushing his hair back with his hand. sit went flat for a second before returning back to its original shape. I gave a half-hearted laugh.
"I'm Willow."