Once upon a story

Chapter Eight

"And what time will you be back?" Mum asks for the 100th time and trust me I never exaggerate.

"I don't think it will be too late but you never know, so I say ten at the latest" I reply smoothly while holding in an eye roll

"Okay, well, have fun and remember we won’t be here when you get back" She finally agrees and passes me back my now full side bag. Last night I had been scrolling through my mind numbingly boring newsfeed when I had decided to go back into the forest, at first I wondered why on earth I wanted to go back so soon but then I thought back to my dream and that story that was never going to write itself. On that note I began running about the house in search of the things that I would need for the plan. It was when mum caught me searching through the spare batteries that I realised that the hardest part was convincing her that I should go. See I couldn’t just tell her that I was going into the forest as it was completely off limits to the general public or say that I was going to a friend’s house or she would ring up the parents and double check it was alright. Therefore I opted for the ‘creative walk’ idea and say that I needed to get inspiration for a story which was the almost truth really. Jack had gone round a mate’s house so I didn't need to worry about sneaking back into the house late and mum would tell dad anyway if I asked her to or not. All in all as I waved goodbye to mum standing in our door frame I was pleased to be off.

It wasn't cold yet and the sun was tickling my shoulders but I had stuffed my favourite red jumper into the bag on my back before I had left. Soon enough the forest appeared in front of me and I smiled at the thought of going back as I climbed under the fence. The same earthy smell hit my nose and my skin reflected the green of the plants when I hoisted myself up on the other side.

I brushed off the dirt from my trousers and straightened my t-shirt, although the natural sounds of the forest washed over me there was nothing out of the ordinary so I was happy to walk into the deep. My pace was calm and slow.

I began to look much more closely at my surroundings. There were some tracks in the mud, probably just deer prints, but then some others were there too. Larger prints, four toes, sunken in the ground which suggests that they are heavy. I turned on the spot and stepped off the path in order to follow the strange animal markings that would match the thing that attacked me but left no viable scars. The ground was damp and ridden with plant life that scratched at my ankles as I pushed on. My torch followed the trail of footprints and I began to notice that slowly more and more were catching the light as I walked on. Meaning that more and more of the same kind of animals were going in one direction. Not only did this mean that there were more than one of the animals that attacked me but they were working together in a group or pack which suggests quite a high intelligence for such a large creatures. Around me the forest was growing thicker and it was harder to see, the torch was on its highest setting but as I was searching through the dense undergrowth for prints it wasn’t hugely helpful. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and noticed that I had been off the path for at least an hour, there was a chill in the air so I paused and pulled on the red jumper that I had packed. Once my eyes were firmly on the footprints again I continued to follow then and then as suddenly as the prints had started, they stopped.

I turned in a full circle but there were no more prints it was as if the animal had leapt high in the air or just completely disappeared. Carefully I walked in the direction I guessed the animals were headed but the footprints did not reappear. Retracing my own steps I found were the trail had suddenly stopped and stood there just thinking.  I was off the path, I could follow the prints back I suppose but I felt like would be just giving up and I hadn’t learnt anything. I opened my bag and got out a drawing pad that I had hastily packed earlier. I bend down to check the ground over by a larger tree and found that although hard it was only slightly damp, once I had taken the weight off my feet I felt incredibly relived. I placed my back against a tree and started to draw. I sketched the footprints I had been following and then a comparison of size next to it so I had more information. At that point the idea of springing up and heading home was not very appealing so I continued to draw. Mum had always said that if I couldn’t be an adult or teen writer that I should go for children’s work so I could combine my drawings and my words but I would just laugh. In my opinion I wasn’t too great at drawing, I liked things like typography and old fashioned objects which didn’t really lead onto a career path. Instead of standing I began to draw the leaves of the trees around me, some were better than others but I just felt really peaceful sitting in the forest just sketching. Soon enough I began to draw from memory and found that I had a sketch of what my leg should have looked like after I had been grabbed and the fence I would sneak under to reach the forest.  One thing I don’t draw is people but even so my hand began to a tall boy with a half-smile and I began to wish I had brought coloured pencils, specifically green.