A Whisper in the Woods

Chapter 4: Advanced Darkness

I've seen this before. In fact I see this scene every night behind closed eyes. This is one of The Dreams Dr. Fields is so intrigued about.

But they weren't dreams exactly. They were memories.

Memories I desperately tried to forget.

The sun warmed my skin as I set my volleyball against the back of my house. I wish I had someone to practice with for the game tomorrow night, but my house was right next to the woods. The other girls on my team didn't like coming to my house because of the twisted trees. The woods didn't scare me, though. Hanna-Marie was as real as a Hogwarts house elf, and being an intellectual ten-year-old, I prided myself on my ability to distinguish between reality and fiction.

The only other kids that braved the Fields' property were my neighbors, Bennet Kirkwood and Blair Adorio. The two were supposed to be coming over at 5 o'clock. My Polly Pocket Limited Edition watch on my left wrist beeped as 6 o'clock rolled around. I sighed and paused my volleyball practice. 

I sat on my back porch and gazed out at the woods, wondering what was so spooky about them. Sure, they were dark and the trees kind of looked like twisted figures, but they weren't that unnatural. Though, if you looked close enough, the trunks did seem to have faces. But, you can look at anything long enough and brain will create something that isn't there. That's what my parents always said, anyway. 

As I looked into the trees this particular evening, though, my eyes started doing just that: creating images. In the deep darkness was a shrouded figure walking along the tree line. I blinked a few times to rid my eyes of the image, but the figure was still there, slowly creeping. It looked like a storm cloud had sunk to ground-level and condensed to form a tall, cloaked... thing. I started at the figure harder, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but it was hard to look at, like my eyes were a camera and couldn't focus properly. 

Still certain my imagination was running wild, I dismissed the shadow entirely. I rose to my feet to go inside and call my friends, asking when exactly they were going to get here. After all, I didn't have all day to play. I started to turn away until I noticed a sharp movement. When I looked back at the shadow, it had stopped moving. Still clearly defined in the darkness; it was somehow blacker than the surrounding shadows. The opening of the hood seemed to directly face me, as if the figure was staring me down. I blinked once again, trying to ignore the irrational panic flooding my inside. 

I breathed in, and out. This is just your imagination, I thought. Yeah, shadows are scary, but that's all it is. A shadow. I started to back away, not taking my eyes off of it. Until it stopped me in my tracks, chills racing down my spine, body going rigid. 

"Elizabeth..."

Shadows don't speak. 

~~~~~

"Elizabeth?" 

This voice was different. Smooth, cool, calming. This voice meant safety.

"She's not waking up! That thing sucked out her soul and we're going to have to explain to her aunt why her niece is a vegetable." Now, this voice was erratic and grated on my ears. It was a bit gravelly, but not like she had been smoking a three packs a day for fifteen years. It was more natural, as if she was constantly slightly under the weather. 

"You want to know what the hardest part of a vegetable to eat is?" This voice seemed young, prone to cracking at any point. The voice snickered. "The wheelchair." Smack, "Ow, Blair!"

"I can't believe we're related!" The second voice said. "This is not the time for jokes, Paulo. Read the room, please."

Coming back to reality, I felt the familiar leather of my living room couch underneath me. I cracked my eyes open to see a young, gangly redheaded kid rubbing the back of his head. A tall girl stood next to him with hands on her hips.  Turning my head to the side, I found another person sitting on the coffee table, watching over me with intense brown eyes. I knew these people well; their appearances had changed over the near decade we'd been apart, but I could still pick them out of crowd. After all, we had nearly died together.