Where Have We Come and Where Shall We End (An Over the Garden Wall story)

Chapter 2

~Wren~

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I paced back and forth, unsure of what to do, my hands sweating like crazy, I had been thinking about this night for weeks, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I just couldn't. But I had to. My conflicting thoughts driving me crazy, I sat down on my bed, picking up the half finished drawing and worn down piece of charcoal sitting on my old quilted comforter. I positioned the sketchbook on my lap and continued the drawing.

The only sound I could hear for a few minutes was the scratch of the charcoal on the thick white paper. Then, at last, I finished the drawing, tearing it out, then hanging it up in a corner of my room. There. I sighed contently as I looked up at the small bit of the wall that was covered entirely in drawings. The one I had just completed was at about eye-level. The paper was filled entirely with dark charcoal trees against the dark grey backround of night and fog and hiding behind one of the trees was the darkest object on the page, a tall figure with antlers like branches sticking out from either side of his head. He was all filled in with black with no facial details save for two pure white eyes, the only untouched spots on the page. Even though I'd made the drawing myself, it still sent shivers down my spine, the creature if my nightmares staring at me from the page hanging on the wall. Near tears I ripped the page down from the wall, crumpling it up and throwing it across the room, I'm not even sure where it landed...

"GAHH!!" I called out to no-one in particular. I can't stand this. I'll go insane, I thought to myself. I have to do this. There's no way around it, not anymore.

I sighed then sat down on the floor, then I flopped all the way down so that I was laying face-down on the wooden floor. I reached my hand out feeling around the dusty floor under my bed. Finally, my hand hit something big and wooden. I ran my hand up the thing until I felt the metal handle and pulled the dusty trunk out from under my bed. Then I got off the floor, and went over to my wall of pictures. I carefully removed one of the pictures prom the wall, setting it down on my bed. Behind it there was a little door, just the size of a book. I pulled the little latch and the door swung open, revealing the single item sitting inside: a small, rusted brass key, the exact same kind of brass on the chest I had just pulled out from under the bed. I quickly grabbed the key, closed the door and put the picture back in place. I brought the key over to the chest and inserted it in the lock turning it slowly until I heard the click noise and I could finally pull the lid open.

A puff of dust sprang up from the chest as I opened it, but despite the dust, the contents of the chest were in great condition. I pulled out a dress with dark brown skirt piece with red detailing and a cream colored bodice. With navy blue and red threads wound into the fabric. Then I grabbed my brown leather bag from the bottom of the chest. I didn't look inside, I knew what was in there anyways.

I put on the dress, spinning around, happy to be wearing it again. Then I braided my reddish-brown hair back, then twisted it into a low bun-like thing. The only hairstyle I can do, besides a ponytail. I threw the bag over my shoulder, then, before I left my attic-room, I gazed out the window at the close-to-setting sun, then over to my destination. I could see it from here, and although I couldn't see what was beyond it, I knew that what I was looking for had to be back there. I was ready to go back.

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Geez, that was long. Just in case you're thinking I messed up with Wren's emotions, I didn't. I ment to do them this way; conflicted. She's distressed and worried, but also happy. A girl of may emotions. (Side note: Wirt and Wren are in the same grade, Wirt is 14 and Wren will be soon. Greg just turned 7)

Thanks for reading!!

~Goat xxx