It's peaceful out here in the woodland. Sometimes I forget there really is a world outside this place. It's beautiful here too; so many pretty flowers in the spring time.
I'm scared of other people, however. They make me feel a strange emotion. It makes me want to scream with all my voice: How dare these people come here, to my home?!
But I'm very good at hiding; both my emotions, and my physical self.
I wonder if I'll ever leave this place. I like it here, I do, but I want to know what else this beautiful world has to offer.
But Mother won't let me leave. She tells me it's not my time yet.
I don't like Mother very much. Sometimes I wish she would just go away and never come back. But then I would be alone again.
I like to be alone. It can be scary sometimes, when I get myself lost or I see other people; but it's nice to be alone because I get to think and I get to explore... I get to be free.
Freedom; what really is that? Having no rules? Being able to come and go as you please? Getting away with things that normally you would not? I wonder, if freedom is so highly desired, how come we are all kept under restraint?
It's different, out here.
We don't have rules, nobody controls us, but we are limited to our space, and limited to our privacy.
We cannot escape the prying eyes of humans who waltz through our territory as if they own it. They are blinded to their own ignorance, living a pitiful life of innocence.
As long as our woodland remains peaceful and sheltered from man's wars and conflict... I will be ok.
YOU ARE READING
Short Story (and poetry) Collection
RandomSometimes when I have a weird or sad or scary thought, I come to this book and I write it down in whatever form it takes. There are sad poems, 500 word thrillers, a few tired old stories I wrote when I was 13-14 and some very short descriptive piec...
