Hi! This is my first ever story, which I'll hopefully be working on for a while. It would mean a lot to me if people who read this would comment- I'd love to hear what i need to do to improve. Thankyou! :)
CHAPTER ONE
William slowly opened his eyes. The aroma of the forest entered his nose and he straightened up, anxious to start a new day. Sunlight was filtering through the canopy of leaves above his head, casting spots of light and darkness over the river, which was only a few metres away from the spot William had been sleeping on. Yawning, he trudged over to the edge of the water and stared at his reflection. Long strands of brown hair framed his face and fell past his eyes, which were a deep shade of green, flecked with hues of hazel. He wore a faded blue shirt and jeans, but they were caked in so much mud that the colours had all but vanished. William had tried washing his clothes, but, living in a forest, they were bound to get grimy almost immediately afterwards, and he couldn't get much of the dirt out anyway.
It was a chilly day. The wind rustled in the leaves, and created ripples in the water. William shivered as a sudden gust rushed past him, and wished he had a house. Not a tiny, fragile structure made of bits of wood bound together, like the one he had been working on, but a dry, warm place where he could sleep through rainy nights without waking up soaked to the bone.
This thought was cut off by a sudden buzzing off to William's right. Cursing colourfully, he picked up his spear, which was really just a flimsy stick with a sharp rock on the end of it, and followed the sudden noise. Whenever he heard that sort of sound, it only meant one thing- trouble. Last time, a cloaked figure had appeared. The figure had knocked William out, stealing all his provisions, the stuff that he had needed in order to survive. But that wasn't the end of it. Oh, no. The figure had left different items behind in return. It wasn't much- a few matches, a packet of food, and the sharp little rock now on the end of William's spear- but it had been enough to confuse him. Why would someone do that? In the world of the forest, where survival always came first, what was the point? And, moreover, how did someone find him? He hadn't seen anyone, anyone at all, for all the time he had been living in the forest.
The buzzing noise was becoming louder, and more frequent. William tightened his grip on the makeshift spear. He would NOT faint this time.
There was a snapping sound, like a twig being broken underfoot, and the buzzing abruptly stopped. William's eyes widened, and he adjusted his footing, readying himself for an ambush. He waited for a few minutes, but nothing came. Curious, he shuffled towards the area where the buzzing had been before.
Lying there, facedown in the dirt, was a person.
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William stood in a shocked silence for what seemed like hours. This was the first living creature he'd seen in a while (not including the cloaked figure), and William needed to be cautious. His legs were beginning to ache by the time he tentatively leaned forward and poked the person with his spear. There was no response. Curious, William edged forward and pressed his fingers against the person's wrist. He registered a faint heartbeat, and decided that the person was just unconscious. Frowning, he pushed the person onto their back, and examined them. Or really, him. It was obviously a boy.
The boy had long auburn hair which covered his eyes and ears. A small, jagged scar stretched from the top of his upper lip to the edge of his jaw, and his face was covered with scratch marks, as if he had recently been in a fight, which was probably what had just happened. He wore a plain red shirt, and brown shorts that had way too many pockets stitched into them. Dropping his spear, William guiltily rifled through these pockets, but found nothing except for a piece of paper so old that William couldn't read any of the faded letters scrawled onto it.
William thought he heard a groaning sound, and looked up at the other boy's face. He snatched up his spear as the boy raised his hands to rub his forehead.
"Urgh....my head..." the boy muttered, "feels like it's been kicked by a horse..." he looked up to find William standing above him, pointing a spear at his throat. His mouth opened in pure terror, and he raised his hands above his head. "Whoa... I-i come in peace," he stammered.
William glared at him "don't move." he growled. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
"I...um, my name's Mantis."
"Mantis? What kind of a name is that?"
"Don't know. It's just my name."
William considered this quietly. He raised the spear ever so slightly, so the tip of it rested against Mantis' neck. "You're not playing with me, now, are you?"
"No, i swear I'm not!" Mantis' eyes stayed fixed nervously on the spear.
"So answer my second question. What are you doing here?"
The other boy opened his mouth to answer, but swiftly closed it, frowning. William pressed his spear into Mantis' throat. A trickle of blood dripped past his collarbone. "Tell me."
"I-i don't know! I can't remember." Mantis whimpered. Tears started to pour down his cheeks. "Please don't kill me."
William lowered his spear. "You don't remember anything?"
Mantis nodded.
"You're telling the truth?"
"Yes."
"So... you remember absolutely nothing? You have no memories of your childhood?"
"Yeah...wait, how do you know that?"
"Because the same thing happened to me."
