That's what woods are after all. Just a giant field of trees that take forever to grow. Do not you agree? I agree about the trees.
After all, I am me and me is always right! Right about many thing, good things, bad things, meh things, nothings. Why everything that affects your life I know about!
Slowly the boy spun on the spinney-thingy. Arren was lost in his own thoughts until the sound of the spinney-thingy creaked to a stop.
Glancing up, Arren saw the boy eyeing him with what looked to be almost sadness. "Why are you alive?"
"What?'' Arren took a step back.
"The chasing helped. Every step pounded with your heart beat. Racing down and unknown tangled path, unsure of when it may end but it doesn't matter for you are taking a risk.
Taking risks are the fun part in life. Adrenaline thrums your veins, jumping and skipping with glee you are free to live." Wind rustled dead leaves and pines. Nothing stretched between them.
They just stared at each other with unreadable expression. That was until the boy pulled an all too familiar knife to Arren. The quietness was broken with Arren's gasp.
"You remember this knife don't you? It saved two lives by your hand. It held the memories you hate. But you need it now. Take it.
" Holding the tip by fore finger and thumb, it glinted in the setting sun, the boy let it drop.
"I have to go." Arren took two more steps back, turned around. After a second thought turned back. "Hell?" The boy was gone. The playground was empty save for him.
There was nothing there, not on the ground, not even a sound. Arren needed home. Snatching up the knife, Arren scampered out of the woods onto the road. And this was no ordinary road.
It was his road home! And the road he followed until.
"Arren. Arren? Where are you?" faintly graced his ears.
"Holly? HOLLY! I'M OVER HERE!" Holly! His sister! Oh, how he loved her. I loved her too you know. Still do. So sweet and kind. Until you make her angry.
If you do take cover from Hurricane Holly. She is not very jolly when this happens. Not very jolly at all.
"Holly!" he shouted once again. Why he feel did so happy at the sound of his sister's voice? I do not know! Nor did he. What do you think Dear Reader? Go on tell me.
I already found you by now so you can answer.
The road seemed to get longer with each step. Running at speeds only matched by Sonic the Hedgehog. It was the kind of fast that you can't stop normally.
So fast you feel like you are running on air.
"Arren you jerk! Where are you?" Another voice! Another life! His brother.
"Dmitri, I'm coming! And I'm not a jerk!"His speed increased. The biggest smile on his face.
"Arren?" Said boy skidded to a halt. Why did not Holly's voice sound closer? But it sounded farther way? He was going the right way. Right?
"Arren? Arren? ARREN?" Same with Dmitri. Their voices were fading away!
"I'm here!" Panic gripped Arren tightly. Helpless, looking up and down the barren road. Poor thing was confused and scared. I would be too. Lost on a known road.
No one there but should be there. Familiar voices getting farther and farther away when you know you are going the right way to them. Yep. I would defiantly be scared. Would not you?
Oh! Where to go? The right way to his home? Or the right way to the voices of his siblings? Home or voices? Which was safe to follow? The known, or the fading away known?
So many questions it hurts my head, and his head too.
Yes, no, maybe so? Yes! Arren turned back to the voices. Breathing deeply, fists clenching. Arren collected himself. A second passes. Then two... now three…
Tmp. Tmp. Tmp. Tmp. Tmp. Thudded in Arren's ears as he made his choice. To the voices he goes! Farther from the houses, close to his family.
The sunset turned the sky wet-blended painting of orange, red, pink, some purple. His shadow did not miss a step of his sprint. He could see them! Brother and sister side by side.
Waving hands in warming welcome. Arren was so close to the shapes of his family he was practically skipping in happiness.
The sunlight made everything slow down and make him aware of everything. How his skin shone orange in the sun's kiss. How the wind whipped and ruffled his fine black hair.
How to his gleaming blue eyes, the world seemed to shimmer and blur. Everything was alive. He, Arren Wade was alive.
He was safe. Back with familiarity, away from strangeness. Away from that boy! He was free. "FREEEEEEEDDDOOOOOOOMMMMM!" he howled.
Now that he looks back on it, Arren is not quite sure why he yelled that. He is not very free. And never will be. Why? He he he he.......You will see.
The sound of metal hitting the pavement drew his attention. Slowing to a stop, Arren looked back. Like a star against the blackness of night the knife shone. Arren shuddered.
How did it come back to him? Did Arren not sell if to be rid of the bad memories it possessed? Maybe it was fate? To prevent badness from coming his way?
What do you think O' glorious fantastically wonderful reader? Go ahead. Say it out loud. I would have found you by now. Say it, I will listen. Except for feelings.
Feelings are complicated and I hate complicated. But I love watching complicated unfold. Is that complicated to understand?
Arren was thinking too much. He did not see what was doomed to be. So he ran away from everything. A minute of running passed.
Holly's and Dmitri's voices were long gone but he did not care. He will be safe soon. Being the typical human he was wrong. He did not listen to that boy's advice.
"You should have kept the knife."
Arren ran faster. The voice running with him.
Arren shook his head. "Get the knife."
"It will keep you safe."
Safe? Arren was safe. At least he will be soon? Back to normalcy and familiarity?
Do you ever wonder at times how wrong you could be? How one little thoughtless or thought-out action could change a life?
how when someone tries to prevent your mistake before it's too late? But because of pride, ignorance, greed, fear, or whatever you humane excuse is, you do not listen?
Ever wonder how that works. I do as I watch it all unfold before my eyes in your human lives.
Darkness was all he saw. Then the tree tops swaying to the chilling breeze. Dirt and loose gravel stuck to his skin as Arren slowly stood up.
How late was it? Why did he sleep on the side of the road? Everything was so odd. Arren was so confused and startled he didn't even make a peep.
Just to let you know when I use 'peep' I mean sound. Not those weird marshmallow things that look like a chick.
Seriously, why would anyone want to eat a raw chick? I know it is marshmallow but still…
Arren knew where he was. He was on his home street. As he looked at the houses lining the street he saw his house in the far middle.
Arren could make out the house lights on, red and blue flashing in the darkness. Police.
"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!" Cursed he. Let's see. Arren could and did, cut across his neighbor's yards. Go though the cellar doors to enter the house.
Beg for forgiveness and accept being grounded for the rest of his life. Lose all of his friends and chances with a girl for the rest of his life. Sounds good, at least he will be alive.
After much cursing, falling and epically failing at parkor, Arren made it to the cellar doors. The doors were wide open invitingly.
The light showed shadows of many bodies moving every-which way. Voices floated to him, surrounding him, engulfing him. But one voice, dear reader, stood out.
"Odd isn't it Arren?" That voice. Arren knew that voice. Turning slowly, carefully until he faced his backyard. Arren saw the very thing he did not want to see. There stood the boy.
Straw blond hair shadowed his face as he looked down at something in his hands. Craning his neck, Arren saw something small and red.
"What you got there?" Arren nodded to the boy's cupped hands.
"Her" Was all the boy said. Stretching out his arms so Arren could see. It was a dead hermit crab. It looked strange, out of proportion. Like the shell was too small for the body.
"She couldn't find a shell. All that fit were taken. She died. Cramped, small, I need space. I can't move...trapped…need a shell, all taken...small, too tight...dead.
" Stormy blue eyes bore unexplained sorrow as he watched Arren.
"Isn't it odd Arren? Standing, moving, but feeling cramped? Like you are staying in the same position for too long. Body is aching, aching so.
Throbbing to move but you can't yet you are. Like you are trapped in a small space?'' Now that the boy mentioned it, Arren did feel just like that. Word for word. Perfectly described.
But how did the boy know that?
"How do y-"
"It's hard to be alive if you are dead." The boy stared at the lost little life in his hands. Without another word, the boy left. Backing into the shadows of the backyard.
Never taking his eyes off the body in his hands, leaving Arren alone. Said boy stares at where the boy once was.
He stood there just staring until the sound of his name being called attracted him.
Down the stairs he went. Dodging police officers, apologizing to those he "bumped" into. Why do I put bumped in quotation marks? Because he did not really.
He just did not notice and automatically apologized. Back up another set of stairs, down a few halls, into the kitchen. There he was welcomed with the most pitiful sight in his life.