The wind blows against my face, and my breaths are huffed and laboured. Rain water bathes me from head to toe and it has become impossible for me to see where I'm going, my heavy, wet, red and gold locks stick to my face. Water splashes under my trudging feet and my shoes are full of water and it's getting difficult to run, or walk for that matter. All I can think of the persistent growls behind me.
I can't keep running forever. Eventually, I'll run out of forest, fall with exhaustion or pass out from hunger. My options lead to getting caught. I must think of something fast. What can I do? Can wolves pick up my scent? I don't know. What I know is they can't climb trees.
Scaling the nearest tree, I stop only to push myself higher. Branches which hang low help me move higher up. The moss is wet and slippery, making me lose my footing a couple of times. A branch breaks off but I manage to keep going higher until my gaze falls upon a thick, broken branch on which to perch.
As I sit on the branch, back resting against the trunk and curled up, my first thoughts run towards Jacob. Where is he right now? I'm sure he's gained a lot of experience running away from this kind of trouble. He'll undoubtedly arrive at our rendezvous point before me, if I ever mange to find it. The first thing I must do after I shake off the wolves it to determine how to reach the gingerbread house.
The wolves come to a stop by my tree. From here I can see their dishevelled, grey fur as they run around in circles, sniffing. One of them even sniffs the trunk of my tree, making me curl up even more, holding my breath. I let it out slowly as the wolf backs down and trots away with the rest of his pack.
I stay on the tree long after the wolves are gone, just to make sure they won't be coming back any time soon. The rain hasn't shown any signs of desisting and I shudder. Since I'm no longer running and keeping myself warm, the cold crept under my skin. I collect my locks and squeeze out some water from my hair before tying it up in a bun with the longer strands.
A white bird which I don't recognize flutters by. It makes two turns around me before plunging towards the ground. The bird does this over and over until I decide it is telling me to descend from the tree. The bird takes one final dive and lands on the ground by the tree, waiting for me.
When my feet hit the ground, water splashes on the bird and it flies away, keeping itself close by but ahead of me. I follow the bird through the forest, hoping it too wants to find shelter from the incessant rain. Every few steps I look up to make sure to keep it is still in my line of sight, the fear mounting inside whispering evilly I might lose him like I lost Jacob.
The rain stops like a curtain of water at the edge of the forest. A few steps more and I'll be out in the open, exposed but warmer and drier. The bird I follow flies further ahead and I lose sight of it. Here, in the middle of this clearing lies the gingerbread house.
I walk towards the sugary house, noticing the scrumptious candy lying around. Giant white, pink and yellow marshmallows for stubs, multi-coloured jelly beans replace flowerbeds and a path of white peppermints like gravel leads to the house. I have a sweet tooth and I constantly remind myself to keep my hands off the candy because it might be poisoned or toxic.
The door is made of large, milk chocolate finger sticks held together by two lines of melted dark chocolate. The handle is made from a candy cane. Seeing the bountiful amounts of sugar makes me nauseous.
After opening the door, waiting for Jacob outside seems a far better plan than to walk inside alone. I feel safer out there even though not by much. The house is dark and creepy as only a few candles are lit around the place throwing shadows and casting outlines on everything. Everything smells of freshly baked cake.
Walking into the farthest room, I find large domed furnace. Is it the same one used by the witch to cook and eat children? So the fairy tale goes. The roaring fire of furnace comes to life and I jolt back. While I take the scare, I enjoy the warmth coming from it after being drenched in cold from the rain. My back hits something or someone and it makes me freeze in my steps. What have I bumped into? Hoping it's not the fabled old hag who eats children, I slowly turn around to find Jacob with his arms extended and fingers hunched. His jaw dropped and slightly to the side, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.
"Boo!" he says playfully flailing his arms before dropping them to his sides and straightening his expression. I try to give him a cold, hard stare, hoping to convey my displeasure. His only reaction to it is a wink and even though my lips wanted to curl and smile, I try to keep the thing serious.
"It's not funny! First you scare the life out of people with your creepy stories and then you pretend I don't expect the worst from being inside a creepy, sugary house. I thought you were the old witch who eats children.
"Where have you been? I have been waiting for you here. I was worried you wouldn't find me if I left. You were chasing after me, right?"
"Yes, then I turned for a moment to look behind me and you were gone. I must have taken a wrong turn or something."
"A wrong turn?" Jacob asks, slapping his knee. "We were in a forest! It's full of turns."
"Uh! Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you! You're so unnerving. Never mind. What are we doing here anyways?"
I know exactly why I put up with him. Without his help, I can't return home.
"I need to retrieve something. Don't worry I'm not planning for us to stay here overnight. Believe it or not this place gives me the creeps."
"Are you sure no one is around?" I ask, searching the room for signs of movement.
"Yes, I'm sure. The last time I checked there were no evil, old hags. Look, I have to retrieve something from the other room. Do you want to come with or will you stay and wait for me here, scaredy-cat?"
I won't make the same mistake twice. Better the devil you know they say and for once, I have to agree completely. Walking in here was a mistake. Following Jacob in another room would be another mistake. At least I'm sure no one's around in this room.
"I'm fine right here," I lie. Being somewhere else right now would be fine. Okay would have been a better choice of wording and my statement didn't come out as confidently as I would have liked. "Go and do whatever you need to. I'll be waiting for you here."
"Okay, I'll be right back. Don't touch anything and stay away from the candy."
Jacob walks out of the room and goes into the room to the left. There's nothing for me to do in here so I rock on my feet and wait. A cuckoo clock ticks softly in the background and a gust of wind spills in from somewhere, making me shiver. A candle next to me goes out.
I stop moving in cold blood. What is the sound I'm hearing? Something creaks. On my way in, I remember seeing a wooden rocking chair. It must have moved with the draught.
Daring to take a couple of steps out, I peek to the far end of the room. The room is in complete darkness except for the light coming in through the frosted windows. The rocking chair is there alright but a dark figure sits in it now. The silhouette of a woman with unruly hair. The witch.
I try to scream but no sound comes out. I'm out of breath. A panic attack is exactly what I need right now. Jacob is somewhere in the opposite room but he has no way of knowing I'm in trouble if I can't scream. The witch stands and walks slowly towards me and I back away from her into another room. Black bars are now surrounding me. I have walked deep into an adult sized human cage. Before I can run out, the witch waves her hand and the cage door locks me in with a clank. Why hasn't Jacob come over yet?
The old hag approaches, her round face and button nose come into focus. Her chin is defined and one of her incisors sticks out from behind her bottom lip. Honey-coloured eyes look at me like I would do a piece of chocolate.
How did Hansel and Gretel defeat the witch? Gretel shoved the witch into the fire and freed her brother. The roles in my case are reversed. I'm trapped inside the cage while Jacob snoops around looking for whatever we came here for. I grab a candy cane the size of a walking stick and bang on the iron cage bars. I hope it's loud enough for Jacob to hear the commotion. I didn't come here to be an old woman's roast.
Jacob appears in the doorway looking distraught and leaps between the cage and the old witch. The hag stops charging at me and instead she laughs cruelly and hysterically, piercing my ears and I have to cover them. After showing off, she turns around and bolts out of the door cackling.
It feels like my heart wants to be let out of my ribcage. I can hear it pounding in my ears without having to feel it with my hand. For a moment there I thought I was done. Hadn't Jacob stopped her, she could have easily reached for me through the metal bars. Why did he act recklessly to save me?
"Are you insane? An angry old hag comes charging and the first thing that comes to mind is to step right in front of her?"
"The characters won't harm me," he says, buffing his fingernails and leaning against the cage. "If anything happens to either me or my brother, the book gets erased and they cease to exist. They keep me alive for their best interest."
"Have you found what you were looking for?"
Jacob puts his hand into his pant pocket and pulls out a bunch of keys. They all differ – some are tiny, gold, and ornamented while others are big, silver and plain. One has a jewel at the bow and another is rusty. Nothing stands out about them.
"I was nearly eaten alive for a bunch of old keys?" I ask furiously, grabbing two iron bars, my face fairly close to the cold metal.
"These aren't a bunch of old keys as you poorly described them," Jacob replies swinging the key ring around his finger. "These are the keys to any important lock around the Enchanted Kingdom."
"Would there happen to be a key to this putrid cage?"
"Why are you so impatient to get out? I thought you were enjoying yourself in there."
"What made you think that?"
"If I were caged into a cell waiting to be eaten by an evil old hag, my first instinct would be to ask my gracious saviour to let me out. You, however, started a conversation which has kept you in there."
"Gracious saviour?" I scoff. "What happened to the knight in shining armour?"
"I'm sorry, what? You think I'm a knight in shining armour?"
"Never mind," I say. Sometimes I forget Jacob is not accustomed to modern euphemisms. Did he understand what I meant and is teasing me about it?
"Let me out. Please?"
Jacob continues teasing me. He must know which key opens the cage. Taking his time, he looks carefully at each key and discards it. I keep my eyes trained on him but he doesn't look my way. He's unnerving!
When he finds the correct one he dangles it in front of me for a little while before inserting the key and unlocking the door. The dulcet tones of the lock clicking send me in a frenzy. I push the cage door open, hitting Jacob with it in the process as I storm out of the cage.
"I'm not talking to you," I say while heading for the main door.
"Oh, come on Quinn!" Jacob says, reaching for my arm.
I stop and turn around but keep my nose as high in the air as possible without looking ridiculous. He's not the only one who knows how to be a tease. I'm not offended but I let him think I am. To further dramatize the effect, I cross my arms and close my eyes.
"You can't burst into my life and turn it upside down in a day! I have one more thing to do, after which we can sit and discuss this situation. While we both want different things, I'm sure we can come up with a mutual solution. You wanted to find me and now you must tag along to keep an eye on me. You must truly love the person you're doing all this for."
I have to admit I haven't thought about this before. By coming here to solve my problems and be happy I will be destroying the lives of two men. What kind of person am I?
Jacob winks and a mischievous smile appears on his lips. Add those to green puppy eyes and I cannot but stifle a laugh. I have a task to complete and this is the first time I've heard him mentioning it. If he's offering to meet half way, it would be only fair I do the same. The more time we spend together, the more I'm convinced this adventure is not merely a task I have to do but it's getting to know a friend and that makes me feel even guiltier.
"What?" I ask.
"I'm an acclaimed writer of the happily ever after and I can recognize the look when I see it. A person's eyes sparkle in a certain way when they're in love. You have it. I had it once. Her name was Cecilià – she was French. It was the best time of my life. It always is with true love."
"I don't believe in true love," I reply, taking a natural stance. "It's better not to love at al. You get all worked up to lose the only thing you care about. My Dad went through it. I'm starting to understand him better now I'm in a similar situation. True love is a fairy tale for adults."
"Maybe the time you spend here will change your mind," Jacob says placing a hand on my shoulder before walking out. I follow him silently, my mind churning over and over what he said. Could this little adventure change her mind? It might have already started to.