THE FORGOTTEN GROVE

Eight

"I came across a fallen tree,1felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that l've been dreaming of?"
Keane
—————————
(Somewhere only we know)

*.

"Even If the world becomes a 'mess' of mashed potatoes, you're my little superhero, you'll save it before it becomes a 'hot mess'" Her dad's sunshine smile filled her mind.

Bent in a crouch, her arms hugged her knees to her chest, jaw planted in the center. She saw no use hiding her fears anymore as she cried hushedly, Eamon's screams intensifying by the second as he cried out for help amidst the mayhem of monsters attacking him.

She couldn't even start to imagine what he must be going through; he called, cried, and wailed her name for help but all she could do was pathetically tuck herself away, vulnerability forcing her to admit to helplessness.

If her dad saw her now, he wouldn't make it to the second thought before he called her weak, he wouldn't call her his brave little girl like he always did, and he wouldn't look at her with so much pride in his eyes like he always did.

He'd be disappointed in her, just like Eamon was.

The day had fully adjusted into twilight and the sun that was supposed to be their guide out of there had traded places with the moon.

She thought she'd come face to face with her worst nightmare when she got her canine tooth removed by the dentist last year due to its decay, but she'd now realized that nothing that she'd ever had to endure could come near to this.

What would Eamon do if he'd been the one out here, instead?

She stood erect suddenly, she didn't know what she was doing, but Eamon would do something, Eamon wouldn't leave her to suffer.

The door was right behind her so she didn't go through much trouble to find it, she pulled and twisted at the knob, but just like earlier, it wouldn't budge.

"Come on, come on, come on," her voice a whisper of raw emotions as she begged.

Nothing came of it; Eamon's cries were coming to a drain and she knew she was running out of time. The fear of losing him forever enveloped her as she screamed into the air, "Please, please, please, please..." Her chest was constricting, and her knees had numbed and given out on the creaky porch, her face planted on the door as her eyes burned from tears. Mortified, she was, ridden with the guilt of not knowing what to do to placate the situation.

She stayed like that briefly until the same voice echoed in her head, what would Eamon do?

Wiping her stained cheeks with the back of her palm— feeling the sand graze at her cheek— she dipped her hand into her rucksack to fish out Reynold's journal, she remembered the page too well, 138, where he'd written about the 'ruthless portcullis'. she hadn't thought much of it before, because portcullises were reserved for medieval castles, during the Middle Ages and not the two thousands. but now that she skimmed through the page, she realized that maybe Reynold hadn't scribbled down so many mumbo jumbos After all, portcullises signified an emblem of security, especially against invaders. And that was what they were, invaders. So maybe Reynold had found his own word for the sturdy impenetrable, shatterproof door, but that didn't make it anything less than it already was. It was a normal door from the looks of it, but unless the control permitted it, there was no way in the world it would budge. And that was a portcullis.

Without much waste of time, she skipped details flipping to the back where it read, "To alleviate the ruthless portcullis, I must first confide in it my greatest fear"

"Greatest fear?" She mouthed, confused.

Not allowing herself to trail too deep into the thought, she began rummaging through her brain, "What's my greatest fear?" she needed to be honest and quick-witted, she needed to— but stiffened once it came to her, her biggest fear was her biggest secret.

Leaning into the door, she shut her eyes to allow the fall of a string of tears, "My feelings for him." She whispered. And what sounded like a sigh of relief hummed from the house before the door finally budged agape.

Hafsa gasped seeing him surrounded by shrieks and screams, almost out of life, she ran to him flicking the bright torch on visible spirits— it seemed to scare them off— so she used it to her advantage. It aided her to huddle her best friend out of there. As soon as they dragged their feet out, the door slammed. Trapping the wicked things inside.

"Reynold wasn't there." Eamon let out in the silhouette of his voice.

"We don't have time for that, we've got to get the hell out of here."

Eamon responded with a weak smile.

The maze was like nothing they'd ever experienced before, Eamon was juggling on her back, her rucksack bobbling against her stomach as they struggled to find their way out in swollen darkness—every attempt bringing them back to the beginning.

Hafsa hadn't noticed the sprain in her left ankle until the fifth round where she all but collapsed to the ground out of breath.

"Are you okay?" Eamon asked, sprawled on the lawn.

"I think I sprained my ankle." She said, wincing as she rubbed on the reddening area.

"Let me see." He pushed himself to a sitting position, groaning as he did, he took her foot on his lap and started to rub her ankle gently.

They sat there in silence until the hiccup of Hafsa's hushed sobs echoed in the air.

Eamon hiccupped in his breaths, looking up at the dark clouds, "My school feels empty without you." He said. "I can't bring myself to spread my wings wide as I normally would around you— none of the other kids get me like you do."

Hafsa sniffed, her eyes draped into his cheeks.

"I missed you..." "too much, it hurt here." He poked his chest, the area of his heart.

His thumb halted in motion; his eyes dropped to meet her silent ones. Swopping in a handful of breaths to pacify the ragged ones. "I felt so much pain in there," he nodded to the house. "But somehow, for some strange reason, I can't remember how it felt. It's like I have no memory left of it." "But I can remember that your face never once left my mind. I kept praying not to lose you. I kept regretting how stupid I'd been to let you come out here all by yourself. I kept wishing I'd held your hands instead." The bright night moon made visible one side of his face. Showcasing tears brewing in his eyes.

Hafsa reached forward, stifling a wince as she wiped the string of tears straddling his cheeks and smiled wholesomely at him, "We're superheroes, it has never dwelled in our agenda to give up, Banana puss." She pinched his cheek playfully.

'Updated— 12-06-24

We are nearing the conclusion of this amazing story, and I gotta admit, it's been equally an amazing journey.

If you've come this far, Thank you so so much for your support so far. I loved writing this story and I can only hope you're enjoying the journey as much as I did.

I love you so much, you have no idea, and I hope we continue supporting each other for as long as we're here.

Stay glamorous ❤️'