Queen of the Wood

Coming Home

Where am I?

I see trees—tons of them—and they all look the same. I can't seem to figure east from west, but Dad always said I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag if left to my own devices. Everywhere I turn, everything is identical.

I don't know how long I've been out here or which way I came from.

It's dark. I'm cold. Shivering so badly I can barely stand. But that could also be because the ground feels like it's moving. Ebbing and flowing under my gray Converse sneakers, covered in a layer of red dust that always seems to coat everything in Davies.

I reach out to the tree next to me to stay upright, but even the trunk sways in time with the ground. There's stinging in my hands. Across my cheeks. I'm not sure how that happened. I can't seem to remember much before this moment.

But even if I want to lay down and curl up into a ball until the world stops swimming around me, I have to keep going. I have to find her.

So I put one foot forward and then another, stumbling until I hit the next tree.

"Maeve!"

My voice doesn't sound right. It's almost like I'm shouting underwater. All muffled and slow. Slurred. My tongue is heavy and doesn't cooperate with me.

Where is Maeve?

She was next to me, and then she was gone. Why can't I find Maeve? Why can't she hear me?

"MAEVE!"

I stumble into the next tree, my foot catching on a root. The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, groaning as pain shoots through my shoulder. It's so hard to breathe. Grunting, I manage to roll onto my back, my head throbbing as I stare up at the sky through the branches.

This is how I die.

Alone, cold, and hurt in the middle of the woods. They won't find me for days. My parents don't know I'm out here. I don't even know why I'm out here or where here is. The only thing I know is I have to find Maeve.

Or maybe I won't die.

I'm not sure. Because right now, it feels like I could go any second. It takes a lot to keep pulling in breaths. To keep my eyes open.

"Maeve..."

God, my eyelids feel so heavy. Maybe if I close them for a little bit, I could get a second wind. Then I can get up and find Maeve. Yeah, a nap sounds good right now.

Just a little one.

But as I close my eyes, I hear something. It's in the trees—a rustling. It's probably an animal. I think there might be cougars around here. No. It's probably a coyote. Or maybe it's a person.

Dread fills my stomach, squirming and spreading. Expanding until it feels like my gut might explode.

It's footsteps.

I should be happy that someone has found me. Instead, all I feel is growing panic. Something inside me screams to get away.

I need to get up. I need to move.

Pulling in as much air as I can, I muster enough strength and shove myself up from the ground. I surge through the swaying trees and rolling ground, seeing the lake between branches and trunks.

Right, we're at the lake. Why are we at the lake?

There's something in the water. I can't quite make out what it is in the darkness.