Hunting the Fairy Tale

Chapter 44 - Ghosts Present and Past

Willow

Hunter expertly steers the car up a winding road taking us deeper and deeper into a forest-like area. I should probably be alarmed, but I'm not. I'm with Hunter, after all. Realising the level of trust I'm placing in the boy that is still barely more than a stranger to me does cause some low level of unease, but I don't care. I don't question this trust anymore.

Today, spending time with him, the anguish over our kiss seems like something from a distant past. I'm glad. I enjoy our new closeness; I don't want anything to destroy it ever again. I love spending time with Hunter. I enjoy his sense of humour and his presence. I want to be here in this car with him for the rest of my life, despite the fact that everything is starting to reek of hamburger and chilli.

Where on Earth is he taking me?

Another thing that feels as if it happened to someone else, is all the horrors of the last three months. Especially the event a couple of weeks ago which was the final nail that brought us here. I never would've thought it at the time, but I am now grateful for what happened because it ultimately brought Hunter into my life. Hunter and everybody that came with him. I am beginning to feel truly free and happy.

He parks the car in a deserted gravel-laced parking lot and nods his head towards the car door when I turn to look at him, suddenly a little apprehensive.

"Haunted Hill, Missy, you said you wanted to see it."

"We're going ghost hunting? Now? With food?"

Hunter shakes his head laughing and opens his door. "Come on, Weirdo."

He comes around to the passenger door and takes the bag of food from me when I struggle to get out of the car with it in my hands.

A wooden railing trims the edge of the parking area, beyond which a rather thick forest of trees and shrubbery creates a shadowy world. All we need is darkness and mist and this could be the beginning of a very scary slasher movie.

I follow Hunter when he passes through the opening in the railing and starts to walk up the trail leading into the dusky wilderness. For someone who hates horror movies, he seems to be rather calm and undisturbed about wandering into a dusky haunted forest. I suppress the urge to grab hold of his jacket. I'm the one who is a horror fan, after all.

We walk along the path for quite some time. Every few metres other paths branch off from the main one, but Hunter ignores them. He seems to know where he's taking me. A couple of minutes later, he veers off the path to the left and we finally exit the forest stopping in a clearing that ends in a sheer drop not far from where we're standing. 

The view is simply breathtaking, but also a little frightening. I prefer lookout spots with protective barriers. This one feels too raw and dangerous.

"So, what do you think?" Hunter turns to ask me, nodding his head towards the great expanse of ocean stretching out beneath us, disappearing far over the horizon.

"It is beautiful."

To my left and far below us, I can see the path I walked earlier today and the thicket of trees marking the beautiful park near our home. To our right I can see the shore curving, cradling the main town of Briar Cove in its embrace and much further to the right another town is vaguely visible. I turn to my left again to see if I can find our house. I do believe that I can see its red roof.

Hunter is unpacking our dinner, placing it on top of the bag it came in, along with serviettes and a wooden fork for me to use. He scurries backwards until his back is against a smooth bank of convenient-looking boulders, and unwraps the foil covering his burger.