Imagining Frost

(7) Deep Within The Woods

“KIM! Wait!” I shouted into the night as I ran after her, the flashlight I snatched off the couch tight in my grasp. It was hard to keep the flashlight trained on her as I pumped my arms up and down, but I managed to keep her in sight as I sprinted closer and closer to the woods.

Georgina and Flora had to be moments behind me, but their distance made a huge difference when it came to catching up with Kim. Kim and myself had taken Cross Country and Track at school, making us excellent sprinters. She was the only one who had ever been able to out run me, which was not helping the current situation.

As we neared the edge of the property I picked up my pace, starting to get a little worried that she would enter the woods. The forest beside my house is extremely easy to get lost in, with only a few weaving bike paths and hiking trails that were hardly ever used. It is said that the forest even has its own Natives, although most people just referred to them as the Gypsies, who live deep within the forest and kidnap anyone who strays too far from the path.

I snapped out of my thoughts and realized I had lost track of Kim. My heart raced in my now heated chest, as I searched the grounds quickly. I spotted Gee and Flora way back behind me, shouting at me to stop as they struggled to keep up. 

Feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, I scanned the tree line, my eyes honing in on the small figure, standing directly under one of the massive trees that indicated the start of the forest. My breath caught in my throat as I looked upon the scene. Was it my imagination, or did the trees seem to lean slightly towards her with every passing second? 

“KIM STOP!” I shouted, finally finding my voice.

She slowly looked over her shoulder at me as I shined the torch light in her face. Her expression was blank but as I watched, her features contorted and her the corners of her mouth lifted up into a wide smile before she turned and sprinted into the forest.

I ran in after her, caught off guard that she really had run into the forest that was host to so many horrifying rumors. 

Those who didn't believe in the Gypsy rumors came up with other tales to explain the disappearances and even the killings of the hikers that dared brave those deadly trails. That there was a demented wood cutter who lived in a lonely cabin deep within the woods and invited cold travelers in for coffee and a bed, was the most popular one with the teenagers. They said that in the dead of night he would creep into your room, lift his axe high above you head and CHOP!

The adults of the town insisted that the woods were simply filled with dangerous animals. It wasn't uncommon to see a bear lumbering around on the outskirts of the forest. But even this tale had been warped over time and now it was said that the woods were unnatural in size and therefore must be host to all sorts of unnaturally large creatures that could knock your head off with one swipe.

But it wasn’t the tales of lost, and killed hikers, or even the warning of the unnatural creatures that gave me the unnerved feeling in my stomach as I followed her retreating frame into the woods, it was the memory of my Grandma telling stories of the forest, stories that were so bizarre, so exaggerated that she was deemed crazy by all of her neighbors. Even my own parents hardly ever spoke to her any more, so ashamed they were by her obsession. She lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of the town and was hardly ever seen by anyone. 

My Grandma had been entranced by the Folk Tale stories all of her life, insisting that most of them were real. When I had been smaller, she would sit me down on her lap and tell me these stories, so many wonderful tales, that she knew, all off by heart. She was an amazing story teller and I would listen as she created worlds with her words. Worlds that regular, ordinary, every-day people couldn't see.