Falling for Oz

Knock, Knock. Get the Door It's Depression

By the time morning comes, I'm still laying in the fetal position on the hotel bed, still feeling empty. The emptiness is always there; I consider myself decent at hiding it, masking it with normal human emotions. No one is going to ask me why I'm smiling. It hides everywhere, this emptiness, in the closet, the cupboards. There isn't any getting away from it. My nightmares seem to help fill it, with what I don't care to elaborate. They remind me of my childhood like emptiness is the monster under the bed. I'm so goddam scared of it, but I need it. I need to feel something. I need something to go to shit, something to be imperfect. I think, sadly I feel safer when something is wrong. I need that monster under the bed. I need it to distract myself, from not everything else, but, simply, from myself. Don't worry, monster, there is another one sleeping right above you.

There's a rapid knock on my door. The knock of an impatient person, or someone who's been knocking a long time. With a soft groan, I climb off the bed and stretch before opening the door.
"I've been knocking for the past fifteen minutes." Mitch grumbles.
I pause. Is that how long I've been in the empty for?
"Sorry, I had a late night." I mutter, opening the door wider for him.
Mitch remains rooted.
"Jackson, Chloe, and Jamie are already at the prison. Abraham is waiting in the car; we need to go."
I yawn, closing the door. "Give me five minutes."

Five minutes later, I am fully dressed and sat in the backseat of the car. The journey doesn't take long and we soon pull up into a parking lot on the outskirts of a forest. We all jump out of the car and Abraham grabs the net gun. Abraham leads the way, with Mitch in the middle and I bring up the rear.
"Hold this." Abraham passes Mitch the net gun and picks up a stick.
"What are you doing?" Mitch questions.
Abraham starts splitting the stick down the middle with a penknife.
"Marking our path." He states, glancing at Mitch, before driving the stick into the ground. "You want to find your way back, don't you?"
I'm about to answer with a smart remark when the loud bang of a gun snaps our attention. I cuss under my breath.
"Alright." My brother sighs. "Let's do this."
Abraham grabs the gun off him, and we start walking towards the sound of the gun.

We walk deeper into the forest, as Abraham marks our path. The forest hums with life all around us. I crane my neck to gaze up at the canopy, searching for the birds that sing sweetly. The sun breaks through the cracks, lighting up the dirt path ahead of us, decorated with outgrown roots, wildflowers, and fallen leaves that crunch beneath my boots. We trudge on, taking in the fragrance of minty grass and the damp earth. Each breath is like water, fresh and cleansing, flowing freely into my lungs. Abraham stops suddenly, his keen eyes spotting something. He relaxes slightly, only for all three of us to jump when a ringtone plays. Abraham and I turn to Mitch, who grimaces.
"Sorry." He apologises, before answering the phone.
"Idiot." I mutter, watching as he steps away slightly.
He starts arguing with the person on the other end and I roll my eyes. It's probably Audra. What is it with the Morgans and troublesome ex's? He ends the call and apologies to Abraham.
"I'm turning this off now." He mutters as we carry on walking.
"Was it Audra?" I question, falling in line with my brother.
"Yep."
"Who's Audra?" Abraham asks.
"My ex."
"Ah, you have an ex. It's good to know. Some might assume you were incapable of deep human contact."
"Yeh, that's why she's his ex." I laugh.
Abraham chuckles lightly, as Mitch play punches me in the arm.
"We have a daughter." Mitch carries on explaining.
"Wonderful. How old?"
"I thought we were supposed to be quiet." I grumble.
The conversation dies down and Mitch smiles gratefully at me. Talking about his daughter is painful for him and we need him on the top of his game out here.

We carry on walking in silence for about twenty minutes until Abraham stops. He looks around, his dark eyes landing on a hole in the undergrowth.
"What is it?" Mitch asks.
"A den."
The three of us peer into it and I half expect something to jump out. I crouch on the ground in front of the den. Moving the dead and fallen leaves with a small stick.
"These tracks are fresh." I mutter, looking up at the men. "Which means the wolves will be back soon."
I stand up, brushing the dirt from my pants, before following the tracks. These look like a wolf pup's track, not an adult. I carry on following the prints, only to be stopped by Abraham. I turn my head to face him and he points forward. A grey wolf pup is sat on its own. Guessing from its size, I'd say this pup is about eight weeks old. But it shouldn't be on its own; at least not for long.
"I've got this." Abraham whispers as he steps forward with the net gun.
"Don't hurt it!" I exclaim. "It's just a pup."
He carries on walking towards the pup, his net gun at the ready. Luckily the little thing runs off before he can get too close. I turn back to face Mitch, only to see that he has disappeared. Great! More growls come from the bushes, and I follow Abraham as he starts running after the pup.

He pushes through the trees, and I hear him yell as he falls. I rush to catch up to him, but a dude covered in blood and holding a knife has his foot on Abraham's back.
"Why don't you just stay right where you are." The man drawls in a heavy southern accent.
In the distance, I hear Mitch yelling our names and in seconds Mitch is also in the small clearing. Wolves start to surround us.
"And the beasts shall stand in judgement of the wicked and the boastful."
Abraham is sat up now, with his back to a tree. The wolf pack growls menacingly. The man looks between the three of us, and for a slight moment, I think he's about to stab Abraham. Then guns explode not far from us; followed by wolves whining. The man quickly runs towards the noise, but we remain where we are. I step towards Abraham and offer him my hand to help him up.
"Watch where you're going next time." I smirk.