The Boy in the Woods (2014 Wattys Winner, Wattpad Version)

Finding Marty

He crossed the road and went to the fence. Holding the paper bag in his teeth, he pulled himself up the bars of the fence until he reached the top. Grabbing onto one of the low branches of a tree, he navigated the spikes to reach the other side, then slid down the bars to the ground. Smiling as he took the paper bag out of his teeth, he headed into the dark woods, enjoying the slightly cooler air that enveloped him.

He'd begun sneaking onto the property two years earlier when he was a bored twelve-year-old. He knew better than to let anyone know he'd found a way over the fence since it would get him into all kinds of trouble. This was the estate of the richest man in the county, Jonathon Blackwell.

Blackwell owned the iron mine, the newspaper, and the largest grocery store in town. There were other residents who did pretty well; the two doctors, some lawyers, and a few of the other store owners, but old man Blackwell was practically the king of the community. If he ever found out Marty was trespassing on his property, Marty had no doubt he'd be locked up and Blackwell would personally throw away the key.

After a few minutes, he reached a clearing and stopped as he surveyed his final destination. It was a small, one-story cabin with a wood-shingled roof and a chimney made of river stones. Window boxes in front of the two front windows had orange and yellow marigolds growing in them. Not long after he'd started climbing over the iron fence, he'd found this place while exploring the woods.

As soon as Marty stumbled into the clearing and saw the little cabin, he jumped behind a large tree to hide, terrified he'd already been spotted by whoever was living there. With his heart pounding in his chest and alarm bells ringing in his head, he knew he should run, but he'd been wandering aimlessly for over an hour and wasn't sure which direction would lead him back to the fence.

He looked at the sun above him through the tree branches, trying to decide which direction he was facing while listening hard for approaching footsteps, but it was impossible. The sun was nearly directly overhead. Hearing only the sounds of birds and the usual forest creatures around him, he decided to to take a chance, and peeked around the tree.

Weeds grew between the steps leading up to the front door of the cabin. The flower boxes under the two front windows were empty, and fallen branches from the surrounding trees littered the clearing. The place looked deserted.

Plucking up his courage, he tiptoed to the nearest window, keeping his ears and eyes alert to any signs of occupants. The panes of glass were dirty, and inside he saw two large wooden chairs and a small table arranged haphazardly with magazines and newspapers littering the floor. He let out a deep breath. No one was living there.

Now emboldened, he tried the door handle and it opened, the hinges groaning loudly from disuse. The door was unlocked, but he wasn't surprised. The cabin was in the middle of a private estate that was surrounded by a high iron fence.

He stepped into a small parlor with a large stone fireplace. The air was musty but heavy with the perfume of the pine wood planks of the floor. He walked through it to a small kitchen, noticing a thick layer of dust coating everything. The back door was a little harder to open, but after a few hard tugs on the knob, he managed it, letting in more light and fresh air.

Opening the cupboard doors and drawers, he found a few mismatched dishes and silverware, but most were empty. There was a pump that supplied water to the wash basin and when he pumped the handle, a steady stream of rusty water came out. A small table with two stools under it was near a cast-iron cook stove with an old, battered tea kettle sitting on top of it.

Back in the parlor, his boot prints stood out in the dust covering the floor. It was clear he was the first person who'd been in there in years. Then Marty's heart sped up as a bold thought filled his mind. If no one was using the cabin, then why couldn't he? It was perfect. This could be his special place, somewhere only he knew about. He could come there and do whatever he wanted without anyone bothering him.