Sometimes the only way you can move on is to go back. At least that's what I used to think, and it led me to this moment.
Back in the same woods, where I lost my first love.
Where my heart split into irreparable pieces.
Standing in front of the same tree where we etched the last reminding remnants of our love before our final goodbye: a heart holding the letters L and S.
I stroked the markings on the tree, feeling the last place where his hands had been.
Suddenly the flash of those devastating blue eyes came to me and i shook myself, blinking rapidly as i tried to find my bearings and nearly stumbled to a fall.
He couldn't possibly be here.
I remind myself of the thought, ignoring the subtle ache in my chest.
I sigh. Even after all these years, I still can't let go.
Deciding that I've dwelled enough over my pitiful past, I grab my rucksack from the ground and sling it over my back as I resume my hike. Despite my reminiscing, I had actually came here to fight the massive writer's block that was the latest threat to my breaking rent.
Fishing out the map I had received from the entrance, I smoothened it out and tried to figure out where I was supposed to go. I had the vague recollection of the manager at the entrance mentioning a certain area I was supposed to avoid for some reason, but I had heard that scare bait a bit too many times to find it true. I had lived here all my childhood and knew these woods like the back of my hand. Even if the vegetation had gotten more dense, I was confident that I could find my way around to the mountain site I used to like.
Making my way through the complex weave of trees, I find myself lost yet again and decide to give up my search for the elusive mountain and just plop down onto the ground to start writing. The lull of the silent trees and the soft wind grazing my cheek makes for the perfect writing atmosphere- if such a thing exists, and I try to make headway with my very, very overdue work. The sight of a white page finally being filled with words after so long makes me weepy and I continue on this high, not realising the sudden eerie stillness that contaminates the air.
A crashing sound has me whipping my head towards its source and I swiftly get up, not forgetting to grab my mace before I do. The commotion comes from behind the bushes a few feet away from me and I tiptoe over there, then crouch near a small opening in the lush greenery so I can see what's happening while keeping myself concealed. The scene before me makes me pause.
A young boy is standing against a tree, his body poised to run away, only his attempts are blocked by three nasty looking men towering over him. They mock his tear stricken face and shaking posture, while cracking their knuckles and making jabs at him to provoke him to try and run.
The blonde one in the centre- clearly the leader of the pack, considering the authority with which he saunters forward-, smirks at him and pulls out a branch from a nearby tree with frightening ease. I feel sucker punched by this single action; he didn't even strain.
He snaps it on his wrist and looks the boy in the eye, 'ain't this your lucky day, you runt. You get to have someone like me beat you shitless.'
The venom in his tone makes me bristle and just as he raises the stick to bring it down on the boy, I spring out of the bushes with an agility that I definitely did not possess before. Before my mind can catch up with what I'm doing, my hands reach for the knife I keep strapped to my leg- something I never intended to use and only kept as a last resort measure-, and hold it up in front of blondie. My hands are impressively not shaking and I blame my newfound bravado to pure adrenaline. The man at the side, a brunette, snarls at me. 'Who the fuck are you?' The other guy just gives me a once over and grins manically. The weight of my situation dawns on me then but its too late to dwell on it now. I ignore the two and keep my attention on the leader, meeting him in the eye, 'if you leave now, I wont have to hurt you.'
He simply stares at me and nods before turning around, much to my shock. I lower my hands and feel the boy hugging my leg from behind, his body still shaking like a leaf. I move to try and comfort him when I suddenly realise what seemed amiss and the leader swings back and hits me across the face. I
fall back on the ground, taking the boy down with me, and scramble for my knife before I hear the unmistakeable scrape of metal as the leader clamps his hand around the handle before I could reach it and drags the blade over the ground before raising it towards my neck.
His smirk is back, this time seemingly more evil than before.
'What did you think I was going to do?'
The knife strokes my neck gently, as he traces a line where he intends to make a real cut.
'You should've stayed out of our business, girl. This isn't your problem now is it? Except you just made it yours, so maybe you'll be ready to die with this little brat here.'
His voice is so low that I have to hold my breath just to hear him. I close my eyes, thinking that I'm done for and ready to accept my fate until a voice comes into my head. I don't want to die.