these sweet nightmares

chapter 10: the cold forest

I waited for the next morn, when dawn broke through the overlay of darkness of the forest.

I spared my required sleep for disconcerted ruminations, staying up to pace around in my room. With barely enough relaxation, I remained fidgety and on the edge, hoping that this was the day I would finally sentence the demons of my past to rest––forever.

Mornings were chilly here. As I placed my hand on a stone angel to steady my balance, the dense air made it difficult to seize my breath. Perhaps it was my uneasiness that was accounted for the apprehension that was becoming evident, or the intolerance of waiting for someone who showed up on his own pleasure and accord.

I knew James tended to appear at peculiar instances, staying for a short while of a spell, but why was it that when I desperately needed him to come that he does not? It was thoroughly annoying.

And how was I to reach him? James left me no means of being able to contact him: no location of city residence, no postal or telegram address, or even the knowledge of where he resided. I understood that he preferred to be incognito, but this was ridiculous!

There was no other choice but to hang on a bit longer. The singular setback was that the mornings were the only interval of time I could make for this meeting: I did not want my family to be aware of it. My encounters with James were clandestine, reserved for myself. Even from the prior visits, I spoke not to anyone. I strongly felt that I could at least relish this piece of freedom and be able to omit what was not obligated––especially when there was something I had to confirm.

But would he come? It hadn’t occurred to me that maybe James would choose this day to not drop in. It was a crushing blow to my spirits, but I had not given hope entirely yet––there could still be a chance.

I blew into my hands, striding over to the edge of the forest.

It was the closest I ever got to being so near the forest, otherwise I simply refused to step a foot further. Fear prevented from me doing so, a product of a trauma so severe that barely left me unable to compose myself whenever I thought about it. Truly, if it weren’t for James and the situation I was in, I would happily pack my luggage and run from the forest while I still could.

Only fate and the unfortunate circumstances that followed after bound me here.

“Caw! Caw!” A pitch-black crow squawked overhead, flying in a complete revolution before going up high. It tried to drop me a little present, but I managed to dodge it.

I squinted at it, compressing my lips. These birds…the murder of crows and the unkindness of ravens––no wonder they had such fitting names of their clusters and groups. The forest had never been so infested with these cunning fowls before the accident. Perhaps the ghostly wails of the deceased were evoking them, and the birds were merely responding to the calls.

Still, it was unnerving to have the birds watch over me.

What would it take for me to go in a few feet? Was it as simple as getting someone mundane to gently urge me, or complicated enough to have divine intervention? Either way, it all depended on me.

Like a doctor using his sterile instruments to yank at my heart, I found it almost painful to extend my hand over the divided line of safety and familiarity as opposed to an environment that was hostile and alien. Whatever lied in the depths of the forest was something that was dark and dangerous and menacing. It had been like that ever since that day when I could never forgive myself.

If I close my eyes and give in into the forest, I could almost hear the voices, the wailings of the dearly departed, one of them being a person I once knew and grew up to see him die.