Into the woods-A Preston Goodplay production

Running from it all

He ran into the woods. He didn't care that David was calling at him to come back. Or was it Gwen? Did it really matter? Preston stumbled over a tree root but kept sprinting, branches caught onto his costume.He just wanted to get away from those buffoons.

He finally burst through an opening into a valley, little cuts and bruises were stained on his face. Preston fell to his knees. Tears were forming.

Why was he so bad at something he loved?

I love writing. I love acting. It'd be nice if people loved it too.

He sat up and made a bitter face. There was streaks of dirt, water, and traces of tomato from a displeased audience.

He remembered the looks of mockery from his peers. Oh, how Nurf hit him. He hit him hard, for being, quote unquote, "A fucking nerd." His morals were in the wrong place.

He was so deep into his own self pity and doubt, that he didn't hear the growling at first. First it was soft, like a lion's purr, but it gradually got louder and more menacing.

"W-who's there? Nurf?" He said getting up to run away from the threatening noise. However, when he looked around he immediately regretted it.

A tall brown furry wall greeted him. When he looked up it was an even scarier sight.

A bear.

A few hours earlier...

The play ended with Neil puking onto the the 'straw' house instead of blowing it down. Not the worst thing that could have happened. At least thats what he thought.

Preston's adaptation of "The three little pigs" was not going too well.

"YOU MORONS, A PIGEON COULD ACT BETTER THAN YOU, DON'T YOU PEOPLE KNOW HOW TO ACT?!" Preston yelled behind the set of the crappy cardboard scenery that was half heatedly crafted.

"Um, not unless you count the times you forced us to act in your dumb plays." Max said as he passed by. He was snickering.

Preston sighed and carried on.

That's all he ever did. Carried on. That's all he could do. It's not like anyone else had a passion for theatre like himself. Maybe Dolph,but even if so you can't write a play with only one actor.

The play was nearing the end. And things were getting more and more terrible.

Of course space kid had to trip over his fucking cape and smash the glass bowl he was wearing. Right in the middle of the set.

Now that there was broken glass everywhere David was trying to intervene to keep the campers from accidentally harming themselves.

Puke and glass on set whilst an audience member tried to cut through the cast. Fantastic.

Preston tried to close the curtains and fell off the stage.

Right on top of Nurf.

"WATCH IT PRESTON, I'M FEELING PARTICULARLY SENSITIVE RIGHT NOW AND I WANT TO TAKE IT OUT ON A LIVING PUNCHING BAG!!" Nurf snapped at him. Preston squeaked and tried to get away. "Oh no! You're going to sit there and take these punches, I wanted to go play therapist with Gwen, but my plans were interrupted with this shitty production!"

He grabbed Preston's collar and positioned him in a headlock. Preston's breaths became shallow as he scratched at the side of Nurf's arms in hopes of getting him to stop.

It didn't work.

Nurf punched him and insulted him.

He was getting flashbacks.

This had happened before. During "The egg incident"

I deserve this Preston thought bitterly.

He finally let go of him.

He stumbled and leaned on the stage. He needed to catch a breath.

Well apparently the world fucking hates him because the whole fucking stage came down. The only thing that stood was the foundation and a few campers left with vomit and cardboard all over them.

David was in the midst of it all, trying to keep the kids from freaking out.

Preston wanted to sneak away, maybe if he could he wouldn't get into much trouble.

"Preston!" Gwen shouted as she stepped into the scene.

He cringed and turned around to a tired counselor.

"What the hell happened!? I thought you organized a play, not whatever the hell this is!"

Gwen said as she pointed across the chaos that was supposed to be a production of "The three little pigs"

"Well...I-um-" He started to say.

"Whatever. I'll be in my cabin. I can't deal with this shit all the time. David can handle it" She said.

Preston glanced at the man, now covered in glass and vomit. Of course, he was still keeping positive. That's what David always did.

Preston collapsed at the ground and began to sob.

"Like the glass of a bowl, my dreams have been shattered!" He said, thrusting his fist into the air.

That's when the tomatoes began to fly.

"AGH" He spat, before walking glumly to the edge of the camp.

You just need to clear your head. don't be a bitch.

He sat at the edge and sulked,only for a second, then got up calmly.

He stared into the forest.

Then ran.

Now...

Oh sweet baby Jesus

He hesitated before slowly walking backwards.
But of course, the bear charged.
"AHHHHHHHHH" He screamed as he ran towards the other side of the clearing. He dared looked back.
The bear was hot on his trail.
Who knew sitting around crying could disturb an animal so much?

His chest started to hurt.
Not that he cared.

Maybe I should give up, it's not like anyone would care if you got eaten by a bear

He was thinking about the situation when suddenly, he tripped.
And fell down a hill.
He tumbled, hitting rocks and twigs, furthering the damage to his previous knicks and scratches, one rock in particular hit Preston's leg in an awkward angle.

He tried to get up, but there was a pain unbearable in his leg. It was most defiantly broken.
I deserve this. I deserve to die alone at the bottom of a hill.
The little voice in his head wouldn't quit repeating that.
Deep down, he wanted to agree.
Nobody liked his plays. Or his theatrical references. Nobody liked the way he dressed, or his dramatic actions. Nobody liked him.

The bear neared closer.

Nobody likes you.

Preston tried to get up and failed. He touched an exposed part of his leg. It hurt. A lot.
And the bear smelled the blood.

Youre going to die alone out here and no one will care.

He crawled backwards but he couldn't. He felt dizzy. The animal kept approaching. He was only five feet away.

Who cares?