The Wolf of The Woods

Chapter Twenty Seven: Save me

Phil was stood dead still, looking over the edge, despite the fact that rocks were still falling. He was still so in shock of what he'd just witnessed.

He had to act fast though now, and he knew it.

Phil wasn't stupid. Part of his brain had been telling him to jump after Dan and try to save him, but he refused to listen.

In fact, He refused to listen to all of he thoughts he was having right now, simply because they were all saying the same thing...

So he ran instead. He followed the sound of the water downstream and ran through the forest in the hope of reaching the river a different way.

Perhaps if he ran fast enough he could escape these thoughts that were trying to break into his head, could leave them behind and be sure everything was going to be okay.

However, his mind appeared to be persistent. Soon it seemed as though it had found another way to communicate with him.

He became more and more weary as he continued to run. Was it just him, or did he just hear a sound coming from the trees around him? It sounded like a voice.

'He's dead' whispered the trees 'He sacrificed himself for you and now he's dead'

'No!' Phil cried out, so determined to deny the fact that he didn't seem to realise what was happening.

'If he hadn't been so selfless, then he would still be here now, it would've been you who'd fallen and he could have been free to live a long happy life'

'You're insane!' Phil yelled.

'Are we Phil? Or is it you who is insane... trees cannot talk you know, we're just a figment of your imagination'

Phil stopped running. Panting rapidly with fear and exhaustion he looked around him.
'I I... maybe I am insane' he spoke, to whom he was no longer sure.

'Maybe Dan really is dead and it's all because of me' he breathed, pacing around in paranoia.

He looked around him, gazing up at the trees. He almost felt like a child again in that moment, a poor innocent child, alone and afraid of everything, with no power to control anything.

The trees made him feel so small. Even if they weren't actually talking to him they were still intimidating. He'd never have thought that the very forest he called home would turn against him.

Taking a deep breath, Phil sat down on the forest floor. He had to stop. Had to think for a second.

He felt physically sick with dread, and anxiety. He'd never had a panic attack before but he could almost sense that he was close to one.

Breathing heavily, he shivered and drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them tight.

He needed something. Something that would give him determination to get up and keep going. He needed strength. He needed hope. He needed...

A light.

That was what Phil saw. He saw it glowing in the distance. It was moving, or at least the source of it was. It flickered every time it went behind a tree and seemed to be heading somewhere.