The Woods

I was wandering through the woods. The sun was shining through the branches. The dappled light hit my face and warmed me to my core despite the chill in the air. All around I could hear birdsong, and fresh air filled my lungs. My fingers were cold. I could see my breath in front of me, but I was happy and comfortable.

I smelled smoke, and came across a house. Laughter came from within and along with the scent of the fire burning in the hearth, I could smell food cooking. My mouth watered and my stomach grumbled at the thought of food. In spite of myself, I shivered. Perhaps, I thought, they’d let me sit by their fire, and spare me a cup of tea. A cup of tea sounded nice.

I knocked on the door.

To my delight, they let me in and were kind. They offered me food and drink and a seat at their table. They let me join in their games and they laughed at my jokes. It grew dark outside, but I hardly noticed how long I’d been there. We stayed up late into the night, talking and laughing and eating and drinking.

There was a girl there who I befriended quickly. She laughed a lot, dimples forming at the sides of her mouth. She talked about a life she’d spent traveling before she’d settled at this little house in the woods. She was married to one of the men, a hulking bearded fellow with hands like a lion’s paws. He loved her fiercely. I could see it in his eyes.

One man there became my friend as well. He had sharp features and glinting, clever eyes. He told jokes. Every word out of his mouth was biting, piercing through any shyness I might have arrived with. It put me simultaneously at ease and on edge. I raised myself up, firing clever phrases back at him. He’d laugh and we’d drink.

There was one there, though, a man who had my attention so wholly that even my new friends faded from view in his presence. He was tall and lean, with blonde hair and eyes like sapphires. He was cautious with me at first, hesitant, but with the others he laughed often and his smile was infectious. I found myself drawn to him. I wanted to be on the receiving end of his smiles. I wanted to know what his hands would feel like on my skin. I imagined them to be strong and rough, but gentle.

I put myself next to him and showed him all the charm I had. He gave me a curious look, and I knew he was trying to figure me out. We were stood around the large kitchen table, drinking and playing a card game. I was beside him, not wanting to let myself be taken away from the object of my affection. I raised an eyebrow at his curious look.

“You like me,” he said.

I smiled. “I do.”

The curious look changed into an easy grin and he put his arm around me. I couldn’t help but smile as well.

Around him, I was calm and nervous, fluttering and still. When he held me it felt like home, and when he kissed me I could taste sunshine. His hands were exactly as I’d imagined them to be, if not better. We spent that night tangled together and I dreamed of a life I could have, living in this house with my blue-eyed love.

The next morning, we sat in the kitchen, the sunlight streaming through the curtains giving everything the glow of warmth and comfort. He made coffee and I made us eggs and toast. The others were all still asleep. If I listened closely I could hear the sounds of their even breaths, like waves crashing on rocks.

“What now?” I asked as we sat down to eat.

“What do you mean?” said he.

“What do we do?”

He gave a shrug. “We eat and we drink and we laugh. Sometimes we go to the lake. There are ducks there that we teach to swim.”

My heart warmed to him even more, if that was possible. “That’s good of you,” I said. “But is that all?”

“Does there need to be more?”

I frowned. “No. But it’s a quiet life, this. Do you not crave more?”

He had to think about this. “I’m happy here.” He paused. “I suppose… I do want more. I would like to see the world. But I won’t leave.”

“Why not?”

His face took on a far-off expression. “If you stay out past dark, you don’t come back. Or you come back… different.”

“Different,” I echoed. “Different how?”

He shook his head. “It’s difficult to explain.”

There was a final look in his eyes, so I let that line of questioning drop. “So you never leave?”

He came back to me then, his eyes lighting up with that keen, single-minded focus. Focused on me. “I’ve been to the lake.”

“But you’ve never been farther? You’ve never left for longer than a day?” I asked.

He tilted his head, blue eyes frowning at me. “How could I risk all of this? How could I leave knowing that all the people I love might not want me when I get back? Or that I might be so different that I might not want to come back at all?”

I didn’t have an answer for him. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. The air felt strange around me, heavy. It made it hard to breathe. I needed to get out. “I think I’ll go for a walk today,” I said finally, standing to clear my dishes. “I need some fresh air.”

His hand closed around mine. “Be back before dark,” he said.

I looked down at him and brushed a strand of pale hair out of his face. “Will you wait for me?”

“If you’re back before dark, I will. But I can’t wait around forever.”

Tears pricked my eyes but I pretended they weren’t there. “I understand,” I said, and I told myself it was the truth.

The forest was cold, the air clean and sharp in my lungs. I closed the door behind me, and even almost turned to go back inside, to run into my love’s arms and tell him that he was right. I couldn’t leave it all behind. There was a horrible tightness in my chest that wouldn’t go away.

But I walked on. It was early yet, I told myself. I had plenty of time to make it back. The sun would bring its warmth as the day went on and the fresh air would cure the tightness in my chest. I just had to keep going.

At around noon I stopped and picked some berries for my lunch. It hadn’t warmed up, though the sun was bright overhead and around me the forest was alive and full of music.

It was time to turn back, so I started the way I’d come. It was getting colder though. Clouds covered the sun and a harsh wind began to blow, my thin jacket doing nothing to stop the chill. I brought my fingers up to my mouth to blow warm air into them. My breath steamed in front of my face.

Snow began to fall as I walked. It was just a few flakes at first, then more. They landed on my eyelashes and in my hair.

The snow fell harder. It crunched under my feet. My sneakers were soaked through and I was shivering, my teeth chattering. I walked faster, then ran. The cold air pierced my lungs. If only I could make it back before nightfall. My love would be waiting for me. He’d wrap me in a blanket and sit with me in front of the fire. I kept this image in my mind.

But the snow had become a sheet of white around me. It was all I could do to keep to the path because I could hardly see it. The snow was too deep to run. My feet sank into it, up to my knees. Worse yet, the world around me was growing darker. I was running out of time.

I could almost smell it. The fire. Food. The snow blocked all noises there might have been, but I could swear I heard the sound of laughter. I tried to move faster, wading through the snow, every step heavy and treacherously slow. My body was numb and tingling. My mouth and nose were freezing closed. But I was close. I was so close now.

And then I was in front of the house. The blizzard stopped and aside from the fact that I was chest deep in snow, it was as though it had never been there at all. Overhead the sky was cloudless and black. The stars shone like so many tear drops.

I could see through the windows of the house. There were people inside. My friends. They were sitting at the table, eating and playing games. I tried to go to them, but I couldn’t move. I was stuck in the snow. My legs wouldn’t budge.

“Help!” I called to them. “Help me!” I scrabbled at the snow with my frozen hands. I screamed until my throat went hoarse. They couldn’t hear me, couldn’t see me. They didn’t even wonder where I’d gone. They’d forgotten me.

The door opened then. I recognized the silhouette of the man that stood there. My love. He hadn’t forgotten me. I should have known he wouldn’t.

“Help me!” I called to him. “I’m stuck. Help me so I can come in.”

I couldn’t see his face, but his voice sounded as cold as the snow around me. “I told you to be back before dark,” he said.

“I tried! The snow… I tried to make it back. Please,” I said. My voice grew high and desperate, tears threatening. “I’m here now. Help me.”

He turned to look at the others and I caught a glimpse of his face. He looked different. He’d said that those who stayed out past dark came back different, but it wasn’t me who’d changed. It was him. His face was sharper, with harder lines and a prominent brow. He’d lost the laughter in his mouth. It was replaced by an ugly set of his lips that made him look like he’d tasted something rotten.

“The others won’t want you here,” he said. “They’ve moved on.”

I struggled to breathe. I was so cold. My tears froze on my cheeks. “And you?” I asked. “Have you moved on?”

I couldn’t see his face again, couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t speak for a moment, and when he did it wasn’t to answer my question. “I told you to be back before dark. I told you I wouldn’t wait for you.”

“But this?” I asked. “This?” I slammed my fists in the snow. “Talk to me! Tell me what’s changed! Come out here and talk to me!” I threw snow at him, screaming and clawing and flailing. Still, I couldn’t move any closer to him or the house.

He shook his head. “I told you the people who leave come back different. The woman I knew never would have been so violent.” He turned away to go back inside.

“Wait!” I called. “Wait, please. Help me! What am I supposed to do?”

He didn’t wait. He closed the door behind him and locked me out.

I collapsed against the snow, sobbing. I threw more snow at the house but no one came out.

I spent the night shivering and watching the people I’d called my friends as they played their games late into the night. When I looked closely, I could have sworn a couple of them looked sad, confused. Like they missed me, or wondered where I’d gone. But they didn’t look for me, and I watched as they all went off to sleep, the man I’d loved finding his way into another woman’s arms.

I cried and shivered and waited. Eventually the sun came up. The air warmed around me and the snow melted and I was free to move again. I looked at the house. I wondered if anyone would come out, or if they’d come looking for me now that it was daytime again. They didn’t.

Perhaps I could go up to the house and knock on the door. Perhaps they’d let me in and things would be as they had been before. Not exactly the same, maybe, but I could find happiness there again. Or maybe the man I’d loved was right. Maybe things could never be the same again. My night in the cold had created a strength in me that hadn’t been there before. I still hurt, still longed to sit by the fire and laugh with people who loved me. But I’d survived on my own.

I walked away into the woods.

And I was different.