The Forest Of Dreams

The Forest of dreams EAH

The fragrant air filled her nose with the distinctive deep, earthy aroma of rain. Not the weak scent of the monotonous dripping rain that seems to extinguish all feelings of excitement in your heart, but the strong smell of the energetic rhythmic beating of a thick, heavy downpour. Sierra gazed at the quivering canopy above her and the glistening stones in front as a light rain shower began the expected storm.
The forest is where she has lived for as long as she can remember, just her and the adventures she conjures up to amuse herself. As it so happens, Sierra was at that moment engaging herself in an excursion around an island, (which was in the middle of a lake), when she glanced up through the thick leaves and saw with great displeasure that the clouds appeared rather irritable. This was most likely due to the fact that the poor clouds had been forced by Wind to share the sky after a wonderful summer of secluded peace.
Sierra knew that when clouds look cross, the sprinkling rain would soon become a storm. She ran to her hand-made boat at the edge of the woods, jumped in and hurriedly began rowing across the blue-green lake toward the distant grassy shore. Just as she had anticipated, the clouds relaxed the hold on their emotions, the anger slithered through their fingers and the light shower turned into a cloudburst. The gentle pitta-patter of rain became harsh clapping as the rain collided with the surface of the lake. It was a great relief for the clouds to rain, but exasperating for Sierra who was instantaneously drenched. Realizing this was going to be quite a difficult journey home, Sierra gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the ores.
Just then, one of the clouds, deciding he was no longer annoyed and needed a laugh, told a joke. Now most people don't realize this, but the only reason that lightning occurs is because only happiness can produce it. The other clouds, apparently thinking that it was a particularly comical joke, all simultaneously exploded in a cackling fit. Then the streams of joy they produced from laughing, shot brilliantly down in beautiful, complicated patterns of electricity.
The thunder and lightning startled Sierra into dropping one of her oars, which she quickly retrieved, and continued pulling herself toward the grass. When she finally reached the shore, she scrambled out of the boat, pushed it farther up the shore, struggled to flip it over, slipped the oars underneath, and tore into the dense forest.
It was darker in the forest than Sierra had expected, for the clouds were closing in, and the canopy above shut out the majority of the remaining light, but nevertheless she continued (at a considerably reduced speed) towards home. As Sierra jogged along the all too familiar path, she saw that off to the side of the trail the forest animals were scampering and scurrying through the mud and over branches to their little dens. The creatures that had found their abodes poked their heads out into the rain and peered curiously at Sierra as she dashed past, then hurriedly disappeared again when the thunder cracked above them.
Sierra couldn't help but imagine about being home, up in her tree house (which she had somehow lightning-proofed), curled up in a mountain of blankets with a steaming cup of tea and a nice book. But images of her bed soon vanished as a considerably large tree was struck by lightning; there was an enormous sound that exploded through the forest. Splinters of wood went flying in all directions, some of them were ablaze; Sierra's reflexes instantly threw her to the soggy ground. When she lifted her pounding head, she realized that even though she had been out for only a few seconds, the tree that had been hit spread the lapping fire, and now several trees were alight in burning red flames. She was now dangerously close to the blaze.
As the smoky, burning smell of a fire slowly filled the air, Sierra fought her way up onto her feet and staggered forward. All she could think of as the flames drew nearer was running away, getting away from the scorching heat, away from the popping and snapping sound that resonated in her ears. She started to panic. She had never been this close to an uncontrolled fire before. But, shaking her head to gain control of herself, she continued to run with new urgency.
As she put distance between her and the ever growing fire, she realized that when she fell she had somehow cut a deep gash in her side. Stopping to examine her wound, she lifted the mud stained shirt and saw with displeasure that underneath, a bright red line ran across her stomach. Not knowing what to do, she started running again.
Once Sierra was about one-fourth mile from the raging flames, she made out what appeared to be a baby monkey on the path ahead. Guessing that the thickening smoke was obscuring the figure and it was simply a log, she kept running. Upon reaching the figure, she found that it was indeed a monkey. As she bent down to look into its big brown eyes, it stretched out its little hands and grabbed her around the neck. Surprised, Sierra stood up and awkwardly patted the little tike on the back. It climbed up onto her shoulders and wouldn't release its tight grip.
Sierra shrugged and started to jog again. The monkey chirped in protest, apparently not enjoying bouncing up and down. A bit frustrated, Sierra snapped at the monkey, "Listen, if you want to hitchhike, don't complain! Anyway, you should be grateful to me for getting you out of this burning forest alive."
Surprisingly, this statement quieted the animal, who then grasped Sierra's neck even tighter as he started to bounce on her shoulders again. Soon the girl and the frightened monkey were in sight of the river, Spissa-Aquamª. Reaching the edge of the river, she glanced down and noted that the water was swirling and smoky. On the other side of the river, she knew her home was waiting for her. Relief flooded into her heart as she began to wade into the Spissa-Aquam.
Reaching the halfway point in the river (with the water almost up to her neck and the monkey looking disgruntled), Sierra took the opportunity to glance up and check how the clouds were getting along. They all seemed to be cheering up, and apparently the Wind had just allowed them to wander wherever they desired, because after 5 seconds, the heavily grey-cloaked sky cleared to only a few wisps of white cloud. Unexpectedly, Sierra slipped on a rock on the river-bottom, she lost her footing and her head vanished beneath the water. Surfacing again, she stalked out of the river and onto the cool leaves of the forest. She let the monkey off of her shoulders, "Well, at least we didn't get very wet..." she commented as she examined her dry clothes, "and look, now the cut on my stomach is nothing more than a scar too!" She peered down at the monkey to see if he was listening and he scowled up at her; apparently he had not forgiven her for dunking him in the river and giving him such a fright.
"Well, let's get home little fellow, I might have some milk I can warm up for you," Sierra said. She took the lead, and glancing behind her to see if the monkey was following, climbed up the pegs and up through the floor of her house. The monkey hesitated before climbing, unsure of himself, but then scampered up easily behind his new friend. Inside the simple tree-house was one large, oddly shaped room, with a large jumble of white fluffy blankets and a few pink pillows in the far right corner, with a branch coming in through the floor to the left of the bed and going out the roof. On the left corner of the house, the monkey could see Sierra standing near a black stove, and placing a wooden kettle (filled with water for tea) on top of the burner.
"I suppose you'll be expecting some milk, huh, little fella?" Sierra asked as she brought out a small pan and a bottle of milk, "And if you are really good while I do this, maybe I'll put some honey in it for you, but don't get your hopes up." The monkey looked up at her with his big brown eyes as if to say, "Why would I want to make trouble, I'm as sweet as can be!" And with that he trotted over to the pile of blankets and hid himself in them. When sierra opened her cupboard to get some mugs for the drinks she realized that there were man rolls of plastic-wrap there. "I don't remember buying all these rolls." She commented after she had counted the 18 boxes, but she shrugged this off on account of the events of the day.
"I should name you, shouldn't I?" She said, mostly to herself. "How about, George or...or, Claude, you look like a Claude.... Okay, listen up little guy, your name is Claude from now on." Claude poked his head up from under the covers for a brief moment and then dove back in. With the kettle whistling merrily and the milk steaming and giving off a warm contented smell, Sierra decided that they were hot enough and poured the liquids into two mugs. She sat down with them at the table. The sound of the mugs hitting the table interested Claude enough to come and investigate. After he had climbed up onto the extra chair he started sipping his sweetened milk. Sierra strode over to her bursting bookshelf and chose one of her favorite books. Sitting at the table again she set the book down, added a teabag and sugar to her boiling water and opened the Horrifying Tales of Mr. Sherlock Baggins and the Pipe of Power by Sir Edgar JRR -Doyleª.
She had been reading for about seven minutes when Claude knocked over his milk, which ran all over the table and ended up in Sierra's hair. As she was wiping the milk out of her hair, a loud crash sounded outside, which startled her into dropping the towel and Claude into quietness. (He had been making a sound that was probably as close to a laugh that a monkey can get.) Sierra straightened up, grabbed her belt that held her sword and dagger, (guessing it might be a wild animal) strapped it on and climbed out of the trap door in the floor. After she reached the ground, she glanced around and saw nothing that could have made such a big crash. Confounded at what source the noise had come from, Sierra turned around to see if the sound had come from the other direction, and just as she did so she received a face full of the coldest water she had ever felt. Because of the shock of the water, she took a few steps backward. On her last step she felt her foot slide and before she knew it she was falling off a cliff that she had not realized was there before. As panic coursed through her she landed, to her astonishment, in her bed.
Sierra sat up in her bed to find that a pair of big green eyes, a head full of dark hair and a hand holding an empty water-glass hovering above her. Peter (her older brother) grinned and exclaimed, "Wow, you're a sound sleeper!"
"What?" she replied in a groggy morning-voice.
"I said...." He started but Sierra cut him off,
"I heard what you said.... Why is my face all wet?"
"Oh, that well, that was my last resort." He said as she looked around the room. There were many things scattered around; a few half-empty water glasses, a hair dryer, her stuffed animal monkey, Claude, toothpicks and a few other miscellaneous things.
"What were you doing?" she asked her brother.
"Waking you up, of course, I tried everything in the book, like flicking you with water, shining a flashlight in your eyes, clapping in your ears, turning the blow-dryer on hot and aiming it at your face, scraping toothpicks on your stomach, strangling you with your toy monkey, rubbing your head with my a towel, (which now that I think of it was not a good way to wake you up.) Anyway nothing worked so I just dumped a glass of water on your face! Your reaction was great!" He said, with an even bigger smile as if annoying his sister in her sleep was the most fun he had had in weeks. "But your reaction could have been better if I hadn't spilled a third of it when I tripped over the boxes in the hallway. Oh! And by the way, this is repayment for that cute little prank you pulled on me, you know, the plastic-wrap-all over-my-car-so-I-can't-go-where-I-wanted-to prank." He said jokingly
"You mean," Sierra said with boiling irritation building inside of her "that it was all a dream?!" (She was also trying to hold back smirk that was starting to creep across her face, for the plastic-wrap prank was utterly hilarious.)
"What was all a dream?" Peter asked looking confused. But he didn't get an answer for he was chased from the room by his raging sister and her stuffed monkey, Claude.
So you see that the exciting adventure was all a dream brought on by an older brother having some fun in trying to wake up his sleeping, innocent sister. Although I'm sure he would object and say that sometimes, she is not innocent at all.

ª If you are curious as to what this means, look it up in a Latin dictionary.
ª This title is a combination of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle), The Lord of the Rings (JRR Tolkien), and the works of Sir Edgar Allen Poe. All of these books are some of Sierra's favorite tales.