Otherworldly

Chapter I: Lost

 Bethany groaned at the navy blue ocean above her. This was the third time within the week alone she had woken up from her cat nap only to realize she had slept the entirety of her day away, while simultaneously avoiding her entire future. Her Aunt Lillian insisted that she get a head start - picking a major, choosing the "one" college for her, filling out scholarships. The whole ordeal was exhausting just to listen to. Sure, she had skimmed through college fair pamphlets and letters in the mail from colleges that seemed overly eager to claim her as theirs and for her to visit their "beautiful campus." Even distant relatives encouraged her to pursue certain careers she had no interest in. They were all so invested in her future. All of them, except her. Beth found it hard to fathom how she could so easily make a decision that would determine the rest of her life. There were so many doubts and variables swimming through her head that it seemed better to just ignore it all and pretend that a life beyond high school didn't exist. So, she focused on the present. The faint, cool breeze that ran through her hair, tickling her cheeks. The glow of moonlight, dimly lighting the forest, yet barely reaching the ground. The brilliant smell of something fresh, clean, and natural. The rough texture of aged wood beneath her fingertips. Her senses felt sharper and her mind adopted a certain clarity that could only come from being secluded in a place where she could be alone with her thoughts or let her mind be free of them, and the size of the world was revealed by merely gazing at the sky.

Sitting up from the rustic picnic table, she made a motion to check her phone but remembered that she had left at home after another frustrating argument with her Aunt Lillian over which career pathway would be suitable for her. Nevertheless, she hopped down from the table and stepped into the area she had entered from.

 Six months ago, when she had first discovered the clearing in the forest with the picnic table, she had almost gotten lost after returning home one evening. The next day, with her grandfather's pocket knife in hand, she carved arrows into the trees to help guide her out of the winding forest and made a mental note to bring a flashlight at night. Four months later, the flashlight got lost during a midnight walk along the river. She assumed the river's current battered it against the rocks one too many times for it to be considered useful anymore. It was then that she decided taking night trips into the forest wasn't the brightest idea. Only, the past few weeks had been particularly stressful, and the night had creeped up on her too soon. It was becoming harder to escape her Aunt Lillian's pestering that she barely had time to spend alone. She needed the clarity that the forest gave her and to only think of the vividness of her present surroundings. She wanted to sleep away reality and give in to a dream world that she so desperately wished existed. She often had dreams of escaping into a wonderfully lucid adventure with thrills and tall, dark-haired romances that left her own reality dull in comparison.

Using the moonlight, she searched for the arrow she carved six months ago. Grazing her fingers against the tree's bark, she felt for the indentation but found none. She checked the next tree closest to her. No arrow. She felt panic rising through her while thoughts of spending hours roaming through the shadowed forest, checking every tree within sight for a sign of her way out, swept through her mind. Then, even darker thoughts crawled into her mind. Thoughts of never reaching the end of the forest. Thoughts of slowly spending the next eight hours submerged in night. Thoughts of the trees closing around her. Thoughts of starved, ravenous animals recognizing her fear and pouncing at a chance to tear through her flesh.

Beth was only ever scared of three things in life:

1) Her future. Check. It loomed in the recesses of her mind whether she liked it or not.

2) Helpless situations. Check. How does one get out of such an impossible mess?

3) The Dark. Check. Oh, especially the dark. The absence of light. The blanket of shadows that onsets paranoia. It plays with your mind, whispering thoughts that evoke fear and heighten your senses to extreme levels. In the darkness, branches are distorted into claws, distant trees into mass murderers, the rustling of leaves into . . .

 Her thoughts were interrupted by a brief streak of light flying across the sky. Thinking it as a shooting star, she made a silent wish that she would escape - the forest, her future, her past - all of it. But even as the star faded away, so did her hope. It's useless, she thought. Wishing never did her any good. It didn't give her the blue bike she wanted in fourth grade, or the admiration of her peers in seventh grade, or even clear skin in tenth grade. And her parents. It never once gave her the two most important people in her life back. That wish was ten years overdue.

Her mind returned to the odd paranoia the darkness had given her, and reality was distorted once again. The wind brought through a terrible moan and the trees rustled in response. Her fear began to consume her to the point that she couldn't decide whether the ground was shaking or her body. In spite of all the control she had left, she darted through the trees, searching for an opening or a sign of civilization on the other side. The only rational thought she still had was to go straight and to not stop for anything. But that didn't even seem rational anymore.

 A break through the trees revealed a street lamp on the other side. The entrance to her neighborhood was no more than twenty feet away. She breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar sight and slowed her pace, leaving her fear behind her in the forest. Three blocks later, she had never been so comforted by the sight of her own front door.