Whisper

Chapter 12, If I Die

I sit atop the cold soil, leaning over Maggie's corpse, weeping over her departure. Feeling something soft touch my forearm, I open my eyes, and find that my furry companion is nudging my wrist. Picking the creature up, I hold it close to me, protecting it from the scene. Standing up, I look down at Maggie's body, her eyes are open, as well as her mouth. her lips are pale blue, frozen in an immortal form of a scream. The pointed end of a branch sticks out of her chest, covered in crimson. The outlines of her brows are curled upwards, accentuating her widened eyes, tainted with fear.
Turning away from her, I move through the undergrowth of the forest. As I make my way through the woods, I hear a faint laugh. Speculating over the noise, I realise that it is the playful, soft, high voice of a child. Whirling around, I search the outer edges of the small clearing that I have walked inside of. Seeing nothing, I turn back around, and remind myself that there are no children in the woods. Shuddering, I place my arms around eachother holding the chipmunk in them, and continue to walk through the garden of trees that surround me.
Coming to another clearing, I take a minute, and look around. Spotting a metal structure, I begin to walk towards it. Tilting my head as I walk, I attempt to figure out what the prongs of metal form, as the sun's reflection hits my eyes. Not having adjusted my eyes to the bright light of the sun, I shield them from it with my hand. As I edge closer to the shining piece of hardware, I find that there appear to be no living plants within six inches of it.
Now close enough that I would be able to touch it, I see that the collection of metal in front of me is a small chair, no more than two and a half feet tall. Examining the finish on the back of the old chair, I see that it used to be a shade of forest green. As I trace the frame, I find that there are several dents along the sides. I turn to face the forest behind me, as I hear the same laugh of a child. The branches of a nearby bush rustles, fearful, I back away from the noise.
My heel nudges against something hard, and rough, causing me to tumble backwards. Looking upwards, I take in a short breath, as I see a small boy, about the age of three appear a few feet away from me. I watch, as he reveals the item that he had been carrying behind him. I squirm backwards, as the child reveals the large blade of a blood soaked kitchen knife. My heartbeat quickens as I feel myself back into the tall roots of a large tree. I helplessly force myself flat against the trunk, as the boy stumbles towards me, blood dripping from the tip of the knife, onto the forest floor.
The boy's head, is tilted downwards, yet his eyes remain locked on me, as he stumbles towards me, holding the knife in his fist. Inches away from my face, the child juts the knife towards me. Not wanting to watch my own death, I turn away. Not feeling any pain, I open my eyes, and turn my head back towards the child. I am only met by the stillness of the autumn air.
Looking around me, I search for the boy, but he is nowhere to be found. Sighing in relief, I search the rest of the clearing. There appears to be no indication that the child was even here. I look back towards the chair, only to find that it too has vanished into thin air. I wander over to where the frame was, and find that there are plants covering the ground, just the same as everywhere else. I shake my shoulders, as if to rid me of the memory that doesn't exist. Walking away from the scene, I stroke the fuzzball in my hands, to calm both it and myself.
Deep in thought, I twirl my hair, wondering which way was the right direction leading back towards town. As I consider the fact that it is most likely the evening, it came to my attention that I may not be going in any direction at all, that I may just be taking a big giant loop around the forest. As I pass by an oak tree, I take a handful of acorns and deposit them into my pouch for the ball of fuzz hiding inside. I watch as the creature clutches onto one of them with its little paw, and shoves it in its mouth.
Turning my attention back to the forest, I spot a rather odd looking leaf hanging from a nearby branch. Approaching the tree, I find that the item hanging from the tree isn't a leaf at all, but some sort of charm. As I examine it closer, I find that it resembles the same types of charms that we had made in kindergarten, or preschool around halloween time. The amulets were supposed to protect us from getting hurt on trick or treat night, or at least that is what we were told by our teachers.
Recalling the memory, I remember the storybook that was brought up once or twice in the past. It began like this, a girl alone in the woods. Only she was quite a bit older than myself, and probably ten times smarter, but that is obviously not important. I say to myself, arguing simply to entertain my mind so that I don't actually start talking to myself out loud.
I snap out of my sequence of thought, as I hear a twig snap behind me. Twirling around, I search for where the sound came from. Seeing nothing, I turn back to the way I was before. I jump back when I find that the child has appeared in front of me, still clutching the blood soaked blade. I turn back to the path from which I came, and sprint along the broken branches, and old leaves off of trees.Tilting my head to the side, I avoid getting smacked by pine needles. I look behind me and discover that the boy is just a few yards behind me. Turning back to the trail of broken leaves ahead of me, I see a light peeking through the trees, and make my way towards it.
Erupting out of the trees in a full on sprint, I leave the forest behind me, sprinting through the prairie. As I reach the top of the hill I see a house on the outskirts of the forest on the other side. Taking off towards it, I raise my knees above the tall grass, avoiding the occasional thistle hiding beneath. Reaching the entrance to the house, I jerk the knob.
The door gives way, allowing me to enter the house. I close the door behind me, in hopes that it will keep the child from entering as well. Peeking through the curtains I look into the prairie, looking to see if the boy is waiting outside. Not seeing him, I turn away from the window, and gasp in shock, as I realize, this is the house from my dream.

This is the last chapter before the finally, I would like you to choose from two different endings, Reality, or Lies. I am simply indeciseve over which one is better, so please let me know what your thoughts are.