Forever Forest

Chapter 3

Once again, long ago on the edge of a forest quite overgrown, was a daughter named Terra and her father named Triton.

Triton was a burly man, his wife, Terra's mother dead from a forest fire. They moved to a small rural town for Terra to go to school, found it was a place for fools, and returned to the same forest that once killed her mother.

Terra was only an infant when her father carried her away. She wasn't even sure she remembered what her mother looked like but she did remember how his chest heaved with the great sobs of a broken soul.

She now sat in the old creaky cabin staring wearily at the math sheet in front of her. Warm summer light filtered in around her, illuminating the wooden cabin's reds and soft yellows. She looked to the white silk curtains that draped across the windows and stood up from her seat.

She never knew where her father went when he galloped away in the mornings.

He told her it was for 'work' but never spoke of which kind.

She walked to the curtains and moved them aside to peer through into the sunlight. The forest was there, as it always was. Not a house or road in sight, only trees that seemed taller than possible. Since they had first arrived Terra had only shuddered at the thought of being outside again. Nature had harmed her once, it could harm her again. 

However this day felt different.

Terra was bored out of her mind. Homeschooled with no friends but her father, and of course, his horse, though it never did much talking.

Terra wanted to know where her father had gone, where he always went, everyday, at exactly two in the afternoon. 

The last time she had asked, his response was; "A day you are older my dear." 

Or, perhaps she'd find herself a friend in those woods. A friend who would not harm her this time. A friend who could teach her how to be normal. How to stop imagining impossible things. She didn't think they had neighbors but then again she didn't go out often, if ever, to find out.

Either way she was tired of math worksheets.

And so, 7 years old, she pulled on her green rain boots, pushed open the door and stepped into the forest.

Her father didn't say much about the woods. Or how far the trees stretched on for. All he really cared about was how much food it could bring them. He always brought home at least a rabbits full of dinner, though nature was unpredictable. And only nature knew for sure if they'd be well fed forever.

It seemed an endless cluster, so thick that it's shadows turned the world under its canopy a dark evening shade. No fields besides the small area of lush grass surrounding their cabin. Roots sprawled and stretched long in most areas. Good for tripping over, though she was careful.

She looked for their horse's footsteps but could find none. There were no paths leading to or from the cabin. Only forest and bushes and bugs.

Terra took a long breath of the forest air. She had missed this. The pure air unmatched compared to their musty cabin's, the slight breeze a window's wind could not replace, the constant sounds of leaf and bird chirps. Terra felt herself smile as the sun warmed her face for the first time in what felt like forever.

Terra looked around, the first journey to the cabin she remembered she fell asleep on her father's back as they rode through the night. She wondered if her father had planned such a conscience to make sure she wouldn't know how to return to the town. What she didn't want to wonder was why her father might do such a thing.