“Five...
Four... Three... Two... one!” the child shouted in anticipation. “Ready or not
guys! Here I come! I will find youuu!!!” She pushed herself off of the large,
oak tree, where she was counting, and raced across the large patch of green
earth and into the dark trees beyond.
The
cold autumn wind danced across the grass and tore at the leaves in the trees
sending their lonely song across the Garden. The sun had already begun to set
when the children decided to play one last round of hide-and-seek. The Home was
only two blocks away. It wouldn’t take long at all.
Not long at all.
The
little girl ran across a wooden bridge with cast-iron railing; the sting of the
coming frost stabbed at her fingers as she brushed them along the metal. She
looked down the trail, which was enclosed in a long pavilion of roses and
honeysuckle, their scent riding the waves of cold wind. The shadows had already
engulfed most of the trail, the fine hairs on her arm began to rise, and she
knew in her stomach not to go down there.
Don’t touch the darkness.
She
turned around and ran the opposite direction, goosebumps rose up on her skin,
and she just knew there were eyes watching her, watching her every move. Her
throat began to tighten and the panic began to rise up in her chest. She felt as
if she could run as fast as her cat, Mr. Claudius. She looked back over her
shoulder, her curly, red hair whipped across her face; the shadows were
crawling towards her.
Run!
She
raced up the trail and back out of the line of trees and into the safety of the
meadow. She would just wait for her friends to get tired of hiding and come
find her here. She didn’t want to be the seeker anyway. She slowly approached
the tree where she had counted just moments before, wiping the tears from her
eyes with her olive green scarf. She wasn’t crying. Big girls didn’t cry. It
was the cold wind of course. Just the wind.
What
was that?
A
red balloon bobbed up and down just to the right of the tree. She didn’t
remember that being there. She walked up to it, fascinated. She reached in her
little purse, and pulled out a magic marker.
“You
need a face,” she said tenderly as she reached up to sketch a happy face across
the rubber surface. She had already made a new friend, maybe this evening
wasn’t so bad after all.
“What
are you doing?” a voice behind her demanded. The girl jumped and spun around.
A
small boy, about her age, was glaring at her. He fine, blonde hair was flying
in the wind, his cheeks were rosy from the cold and he wore the most peculiar
tweed suit. It looked like it was out of a fairytale.
“What
are you doing to my balloon?” he asked again.
The
little girl stammered. “I thought he would look quite handsome with a face,”
she replied.
The
little boy looked thoughtfully up at his toy. “You do know you’re never going
to get out of here, right?”
“What
are you talking about?” she asked.
“You
are trapped in here,” he said again, not making eye contact, “like me. Like all
of us. Trapped.”
Trapped.
“What
are you talking about weirdo?” she said. “If I don’t go back to the Home, the
old Miss will surly come looking for me.”
“You
will never be found again,” the boy said calmly.
“Well,”
she was getting rather uneasy now, “My friends will come. They are just in the
trees, waiting for me.” She puffed out her chest to look tough.
“They
will surely be dead by now,” the little boy looked across the meadow.
A
scream sliced through the cold air.
“Ah,”
said the boy, “I guess it will be just us for supper.”
The
little girl backed up against the tree, the panic was rising up over her again.
She could feel the tingles start at the top of her head and trickle down her
face and spine. She tried to search for something behind her back; something to
hold onto, a weapon, she didn’t know. Anything.
The
cries of the children in the woods continued. They were like the song of a
crow, sharp and terrible, screaming through the night air, never breaking,
never ceasing.
While
the little girl had been distracted by the balloon and the boy, she didn’t
notice the sun making its last appearance on the earth, before dropping down
into the night sky. The shadows had caught up with her. They twisted and
tangled themselves up around her legs and crawled up her tiny frame.
She
tried to call out for help. She reached out for the boy, but he just stood
there, looking down at his feet.
The
girl could feel herself being forced down in to the darkness. She tried to hold
her breath, as the shadows pressed in around her, her lungs disobeyed and she
let out a shrill scream that joined in harmony with that of her friends. The
darkness opened a hole in the earth and she fell through, sealing itself on top
of her.
Averting
his eyes away from the dark stop in the earth, the little boy reached up and
grabbed his balloon.
“At
last,” he whispered, “We have another one.”
The
now old man chuckled to himself, “At last.”
