Chapter One:
The boy looked at her in contempt. Hands shaking, eyes filled with no remorse, he pushed her down the muddy hill. She rolled, her back grazing the sloppy terrain, and before her neck twisted as she neared the bottom, she saw the boy snicker and run to the shadows.
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Some people say there's something odd about living in a farm. For instance, there's not a lot to do in the barn. Endless repetitions. Same menial tasks. Like feeding the animals, milking the cow, restocking the hay, and lotsa and lotsa cleaning. What's odd about that? It's just work. Boring work, at that. Which makes me think a bit. Is there work that isn't boring? I guess loving what you do, and earning decent money isn't boring. And I wonder how many people get to have jobs they actually love. I sure don't love cleaning. But tending the animals is alright enough though.
My grandpapa built this farm a long way back. He saw good soil, fields of green grassy land stretching for hundreds of yards till it met to Asiotus Woods, where miles and miles of rock Maple, Oak, and Elm trees make up the west side of this rural town. Asiotus Woods is named after the long earred owl; why they named it after an owl is beyond me. My papa said he ain't seen one owl in that forest. He says owls don't live in this region. Maybe that's true. Maybe the namer of the forest also knew. And maybe the sole reason for naming it after an owl was sort of like their way of saying that anything is possible. I'd like to think that. Funny enough, since we live so close to Asiotus Woods, my grandpapa thought it'd be nice to name our farm "Tyto Alba". It means barn owl.
I usually do my chores just after supper, there's nothin' more inviting than fresh air after a good meal. My mama think it's odd that I talk to the animals in the barn, and I says that just cuz' they don't talk back don't mean they can't understand me.
"You don't think I'm weird do you, Wesley?"
Wesley, my favorite horse, a Missouri fox trotter, neighed in response. See! They do understand me. I petted his muzzle affectionately, as I heard footsteps and a chuckle coming from the entrance of the barn.
"If only, there were anyone else in this damn barn who'd actually LISTEN TO ME!", I shouted the last part.
"I heard that Kat!", Someone outside yelled back.
"Then stop eavesdropping when I'm a'talking with the animals!"
"Not my fault you're so damn loud!"
The barn door opened, and in came Ma. She was carrying bundles of broken wooden planks. Fences? Seemed like it. The usual Maple wood that fenced and bordered the edge of the forest nearby.
"Watcha' got there Ma?"
"A pile of wooden fences, what'dya think Kat?
"Oh I know that, but why you carryin' it?"
She dropped the damaged piles of timber on the floor right next to the trash bins.
"Yer' papa found em' fences collapsed down there woods when he was on lumber duty. First time I've seen this happened. These planks ain't even that old to collapse"
"Why do you think they went down like that?" I asked
"Who knows", my mama replied, "maybe some redneck tried crossing them border or some animal bumped hard into the fence."
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HALFWAY POINT- TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, LITZY, KAL, JOE OR TIFF AND I'LL FINISH THE CHAPTER SO FAR
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RandomA farm girl meets a strange boy in the woods. Everyday she has a conversation with him and she founds out that he has been living in the forest for almost 4 years. The girl tries to get him back to human society, but the boy's past has traumatized h...
