The Forest of Dreams
The Forest of Dreams
I trudge down the leaf-strewn road, hugging myself against the frigid bursts of wind tugging at my jacket. I hop over a puddle and glance up as the clock-tower strikes six. I should’ve been home by now. Warm and cozy and curled up in the window with a book and a perfect ruby apple.
A crow caws as it passes overhead, startling me. I whirl around and breathe a sigh of relief to see that no one is following me. Nevertheless, I quicken my pace until my breath comes out in clouds of mist.
As I approach the road leading out of town, I allow myself one last glance over my shoulder, at the only home I have ever known, before turning onto the endless path ahead of me.
Running away feels strange. It’s almost as if I’m just going for a walk or a short trip. It doesn’t feel like forever yet.
Rounding the bend, finally out of sight of the gloomy gray town of my childhood, I allow myself to slow to a brisk stroll. Gazing out at the limitless possibility of the world, I wonder why I didn’t leave sooner. Why I put up with my family for so long. Why I let them steal away fifteen years of my life, draining me of purpose, casting me mercilessly into the shadow of my perfect twin.
The sun starts to slip from its perch in the clouds, slowly disappearing over the horizon. I step into the swaying fields of golden and green, heading away from the road in search of a place to sleep, just in case someone actually cares enough to come looking for me. Unfortunately, the only shelter in sight is a thick line of looming trees. The Forest.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been told stories about the Forest. About trees that transform into monsters and streams full of poison and evil, spell-casting fairies. The Forest is said to be the place where all nightmares come to life. And I’m heading straight for it.
The grass shrivels as I approach, leaving behind rotten leaves and squishy earth, which immediately encrusts my boots with a musty shade of taupe. I enter the woods and am struck by a terrible chill. Clenching my jaw, I take another step forward, jumping at the slightest crack of a twig. I hear a rustling behind me and glance over my shoulder, only to encounter a wall of trees. What happened? Where is the field? The road? I can’t have traveled that far in a single step. Panicked, I stumble in the direction I think I came from, only to trip over a bush and plummet into darkness.
When I finally come to, I’m lying on a pile of leaves, shrouded in shadow. A single candle casts an eerie glow across the walls of the cavern, illuminating a solitary door across the room.
A low groan sounds, and a massive, hairy beast looms over me. I shriek and scramble to my feet, only to be pulled down by the pile of leaves, which has transformed into a mass of grasping limbs. Struggling against the magical force, I finally break free and run out the door, closely followed by the hairy beast.
I find myself in a maze of pitch-black corridors. The walls seem to whisper, “Which way? Which one? Watch out! It’s done.” What’s happening? I must be losing my mind. This is all a dream, a nightmare. Yes, that has to be it. Any moment now I’ll wake up and . . .
“OW!” I cry, clutching my arm and glaring at the invisible branch that just attacked me. Can dreams hurt? I thought that was impossible. I must be imagining the pain. And the maze. And that creature back there. I want to wake up now, I plead.
A glow in the shape of a jack-o’-lantern’s grin appears in front of me, and I scream. Stop panicking, I tell myself firmly. It’s just a dream. Nothing is going to happen to me. But maybe I’m supposed to figure out how to escape on my own. I need to force my own nightmare to release me from its clutches. But how?
“But how? But how? But how?” the walls echo around me. Did I say that aloud? Or can the maze read my mind? CALM DOWN, I think fiercely. Concentrate. I have a feeling that following the paths of the maze would lead me in infinite circles, and turning around would mean facing the monster in the cave. That means the only way out is . . . up.
There’s no visible way to scale the sheer stone walls of the maze, and even if there was, climbing is not among my scant survival skills. In fact, I’m not sure I even have any skills whatsoever, besides cowering in corridors and daydreaming.
“Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming . . .” the walls echo. Wait a minute—that’s it! Logically, if this is really a dream, then it’s all happening in my head. Which means that I have the power to control it!
Squeezing my eyes shut, I direct my thoughts upwards. A ladder, I need a ladder. I imagine each individual rung rising steadily into the clouds. I open my eyes, and there it is.
Squealing with delight, I rush towards the ladder and start the long climb back to the surface. When I finally reach the top, I glance down once and immediately regret it, shuddering at the height. Quickly, I pull myself up to the final rung and step out onto solid ground.
I’m in the middle of a field. A single oak tree sends copper leaves fluttering around me, and I can see the road in the distance. Behind me, the Forest still looms, but the hole I emerged from has disappeared completely.
I sprint towards the road, eager to put as much distance between myself and the horrible Forest as possible. The sun hovers just above the hills to my left, casting a warm glow on the winding path stretching before me. I brush off my coat and start to walk, headed into a world of infinite chances and the wildest of dreams.
The Voice
November 2024
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