Ending

Chapter 3 - The Place of My Failure

I perched on the familiar branch of my tree, watching the graveyard below.

The cool morning air rustled the leaves around me, and I kept low, making sure no one saw me. The old man had already started his rounds, his slow, deliberate movements barely registering in the distance.

I had come back to the place of my failure.

I stared into the open, trying to make sense of it all. I'd been so sure I could push past the fear, but when I'd gotten inside, I froze.

It wasn't just that I hesitated I hadn't been ready, not really. The optimism I'd clung to had no foundation, no actual plan. I hadn't realized that leaving the woods would require more than just willpower. It required my mind to be as prepared as my body.

I sighed, pulling my knees up to my chest. The last few days had been full of regret, replaying that moment over and over, wondering where it went wrong.

I had acted on impulse, on the naive idea that fear could simply be pushed aside. But fear wasn't going to go away. It would always be there, lurking in the background, reminding me that the world beyond the trees was unknown.

The familiar sound of birds chirping in the distance was almost comforting. Almost.

The breeze picked up, sending a chill deep inside, where my thin clothes could not warm me.

I leaned back against the trunk of the tree, letting my head fall back as I watched the branches above shift with the wind.

A twig snapped below, and I glanced down just as a deer darted through the underbrush, disappearing almost as quickly as it had come.

I wished I could be that fearless, moving from place to place without hesitation, without questioning every step. But I wasn't.

I had let the moment slip away,I'd given in so easily. I clenched my fists, feeling the rough bark beneath my fingers. Maybe I hadn't prepared myself enough. Maybe I'd underestimated how hard it would be.

The leaves rustled again, a few drifting lazily to the ground. I could feel time pressing in on me, the urgency of it all growing heavier each day. If I didn't push through the fear soon, it would only grow stronger, solidify, until it locked me in this place for good.

The image of myself frozen at the gate flashed through my mind, and I cringed. I must've looked ridiculous, like a trapped animal caught in its own fear.

A deranged animal would've had more grace. I pressed my forehead against my knees, the embarrassment sinking in deeper with each passing thought.

The woods carried a strange air about it today feeling less of a home and more of a hiding space. I was stuck, not just in the woods but in this strange limbo between wanting to change and being too afraid to do anything about it.

I stood up, brushing the leaves from my legs, and looked out toward the dirt path. The next step felt like a mountain, but I knew one thing for sure—the only way to heal this wound, to move forward, was to experience what I feared.

With a deep breath, I forced myself to take a step forward. And then another. This time, I wouldn't try to shove the fear aside.

I would let it fuel me, push me toward what needed to be done. The unknown was still terrifying, but staying here was worse. I kept reminding myself.

I kept walking, each movement careful and deliberate. The ground felt solid beneath my feet, but my legs were shaky, my muscles already anticipating the task ahead.

I paused at the base of the dirt road, hands on my knees, as I stared across the graveyard, the gate standing tall and unmoving in the distance.

I started walking slowly, my steps quiet. The wind rustled the leaves above, and I caught glimpses of sunlight breaking through the canopy.