It's All in Your Head

The girl walking through the forest is about fifteen years old, on the verge of womanhood. She is wearing a simple white dress, the bodice embroidered with a pattern resembling lace. A river of raven black hair tumbles down her back, contrasting sharply with the brightness of her dress. She is walking with a spring in her step, her face turned up towards the patches of cloudless, light blue sky shimmering through the tangle of branches above her. The sun's rays shine weakly through the canopy, warming her face. A light breeze ruffles her hair, enveloping her in the smells of the forest – damp earth, wood, flowers. Carefully, she picks her way through the brush, her bare feet leaving no imprint on the forest floor.

This is her forest – she has been coming here ever since she was a little girl – It is familiar to her.

The young, green leaves rustle quietly as the girl gently pushes aside a tree branch. Beyond the veil of green and brown is a beautiful river, the surface shimmering with each undulating wave. Despite the water's movement however, it makes no sound – one of the few secrets of the forest that she has yet to discover.

Surprised and intrigued, the girl moves forward to stand on the unfamiliar bank, gazing out thoughtfully at the pristine water. As she approaches, a number of small bubbles float up to the surface, bobbing rhythmically in time with the miniscule waves. Leaning forward to investigate, she is astonished to find her own face smiling up at her – and her mother's and her aunt's and uncle's and grandmother's. In an instant, the images begin to change, faces morphing into people, places, memories of her past. To her left, three smiling young girls chasing each other around the school gym. To her right, family dinner at Christmas, white bulbs peeking out from among the branches of a real evergreen, like tiny bursts of light.

And then, a voice: "I see that you, like so many others, have stumbled across the River Mens."

The voice jerks the girl out of her reverie and she looks up, shaking her head slightly to clear it from its hypnotic state. Her eyes dart back and forth among the trees and shadows of the forest, searching for the speaker. He is standing on the opposite bank, a man of about thirty, tall and lean. He is dressed rather peculiarly, especially considering the day's weather – black shirt, black jeans and a black trench coat. Despite his sudden appearance however, the girl senses a sort of familiarity about him.

"Do I know you?" she asks, cocking her head inquisitively.

The man pauses before answering, contemplating her question. Eventually, with an almost imperceptible nod he replies, "Yes, I think you do."

Smiling warmly he offers his hand invitingly. Curiously, she takes it, allowing him to help her across the memory bubbles – turned – stepping stones. They begin to walk along together, deep into the darkness of the forest. The warmth and brightness of the day disappears quickly the farther they go, only to be replaced by an unnatural chill that begins to settle around them. Shivering, the girl struggles to take a deep a breath, but the air is heavy and dull, as if the forest itself is trying to suffocate her. I should turn around, I should go back, she thinks, but her body does not seem to want to cooperate.

"Do you know where we're going?" she asks the man nervously, hoping to break the deafening silence.

He does not respond, he does not even turn around to acknowledge her, he simply continues to lead her forward, towards the ever looming darkness.

After a few minutes, he stops abruptly in front of a small clearing. Lost in her own thoughts, the girl nearly collides with him.

"Welcome home, darling" He coos, indicating the space in front of him with a sweeping motion of his arms.

"Home? No sir, I don't live here, I live just over the hill," she answers, pointing vaguely back in the direction they had come from. "You must be mistaken," she continues, her voice a mixture of both fear and defiance.