His words linger in my head, " Do not read chapter 13 or you will be deeply punished." I was a foolish girl, I never listened. I woke up to the vines straggling my arm. I screeched and thrashed with all my might, but the vines wouldn't budge. It was too late. I thought I'd never see anyone again. Or so I thought. The only thing taking over me are the vines.
4 hours ago I scampered to the long steps of Mr Linden's Library. It's a rather large building, painted a dull night gray. The windows, translucent with snow white curtains draping over the edge. Every kid warned me about the library; that it's cursed and every book brings haunting memories. I never believed them, so I took a deep breath and stepped right in.
Mr. Linden was an old but nice man. He had very few strands of blond hair. Wearing a plaid collared shirt, dress pants, and matching shiny shoes; he sat over by his makeshift counter, eyes glued to a book. I scurried over to the horror aisle and settled on a book called The Deep Life in the Woods. I brought it up to him and offered him my card.
He stared at me for a second and turned away quickly telling me,"Not a lot of people visit me often."I gave him a small smile as he checked out the book.
Before I left Mr.Linden gave me a fair warning, "DO NOT READ CHAPTER 13!!" his voice echoing through the walls.
"Yeah sure, oh noo, the ghosts are going to get me. I'm sooo scared," I reply. I left the dusty, old, brick library behind me, as I kept moving forward. Those were his last words.
I filled my head with words, as different emotions sparked my brain. When I turned the crisp paper page I encountered Chapter 13. I had 10 minutes before bedtime so I read the chapter quickly and got ready for bed. I wish I had never read that chapter, the book, or even gone to that library. Regrets spilling out in streams, now it was too late.
My eyes are blurry with spots of black and many different colors as the vines unwind from my body. I don't remember much only reading the book, falling asleep, then waking up to crinkling sounds as I yelped from the top of my lungs, that's all I remember. I stand stiff in a vast, dense, wooded area as creatures and monsters from all story books stare down at me from their respective branches. Out of nowhere a poof of black smoke flies across my face as a tall old wizard stands in front of me. The wizard is bald with simple modern day clothing, holding a fluorescent book lustering in the sunlight. He greets me with enthusiasm as he exclaims, " Welcome young witch to the Mystical Woods! I will be your professor for your annual witch training."
I stand puzzled, "What are you talking about?"
"Here is my assistant Cleo she will be helping you with the training since I will not have time to help you," the wizard says with a smirk, completely ignoring my question.
Before I can say a word, he's gone in a blink of an eye. Cleo looks about my age. She has beautiful golden locks cascading down her shoulder. Her eyes, sky blue with a hint of worry. Wearing a patterned shirt, long black leggings, and boots up to her knees. As well as a long red velvet robe across her body. Cleo approaches me slowly and says quietly, "come with me."
Cleo brings me up to her cottage as I question every step. Her home looks exactly like a smurfs, shaped like a mushroom with a walkway made of plastered stone. She whispers something into the twisty vines that I couldn't make out, as they abstract politely. Once I step inside I know it's not a dream. Magic books, dirty cauldrons, wands, potions, and crazy outfits line the walls and cupboards.
Everything makes my head spin as I grab a chair saying to myself, "I'm not a witch, I don't belong here, this is all a misunderstanding."
As I take deep breaths. Cleo stares at me worried and says, "I know you want to go back home," as if reading my mind.
YOU ARE READING
The Deep Life In The Woods
Bilim KurguHis words linger in my head, " Do not read chapter 13 or you will be deeply punished." I was a foolish girl, I never listened. I wish I had never read that chapter, the book, or even gone to that library. Regrets spilling out in streams...