• A rosy sunset glows behind the silhouetted trees, painting the sky with schemes of orange, pink, yellow, and red. Ela swings her legs as she sits with her father on the wooden park bench on the hill. Both of them gaze into the beautiful landscape, individually replaying the lovely events that took place that day, mostly of that game of hide & seek. But as the sun sets lower in the horizon, Elauria contemplates the future of her going back home and back to the old routine. “What’s with the long face, didn’t you have fun today?” was what she heard from her father. “I don’t want to back home,” she finally admits as she focuses on her black Mary Jane’s shoes.

    “Why? What’s wrong with going home?” The gentle man put his arm on top of the bench behind her head. This is the first time he ever heard her say this, but he didn’t sound too surprised.

    Elauria bites her lips, trying to find the words to explain, but couldn’t. “I just don’t want to! I don’t want to go back,” She hops off the bench and turns to the man holding the red roses, ever the vigilant listener, “I want to stay out here; I want to see more of the world and do a lot of stuff!”

    The gentle man in the white shirt, black tie, and brown slacks cocks his head to the side, his eyes inquisitive, “Is that so? We could always do that tomorrow, sweetie. There’s always tomorrow, you haven’t forgotten that, did you?”

    Feeling her invisible soapbox pulled underneath her, she couldn’t help but silently nod. However, she knows that tomorrow would be like usual; she’ll clean the house along with her mother as her father is far away from home for business. The sun shines its last rays of light and the evening star starts to peek through the lavender part of the sky. As her father takes her hand to go home, she turns to that star and wishes ever so deeply that she could be far from home.

    She sighs when she finally peels her eyes away from the long distant sun and begins to trudge home. The sun finally sets and darkness envelops the day. Elauria keeps her head down and watches how hard it is to see her feet than where they’re going. She wonders when they will reach the sidewalk and truly get home. Knowing that her father is holding her hand, she begins to tug to ask a question. Instead of feeling resistance from his manly hands, she felt her arm pulling her tiny fist down beside her with no hand or sleeve. Bewildered, she stops and looks to her left; her father is not there. She is in the middle of the nearby forest, far from any streetlamps to light the way. The tall trees block out any welcoming stars, making this place rather foreboding. Wide eye, she calls out for her protector only to hear echoes. She turns around to retrace her steps and begins to search her way back. She stumbles from unseen brambles, scratched her legs from dangerous thorns, and her hair pulled from wicked branches. Panicking, she earnestly yells her father’s name continuously as she picks up her pace. Oddly, the sound of laughter seems to echo about her, but she shakes it off to concentrate on finding her father. After many slips, cuts, and bruises, she eventually comes back to the same hill with the wooden bench, but with a lone shadowed figure sitting on it.

    “Father?” she whispers, too scared to speak out loud. The stranger didn’t turn to her and she inches forward. She couldn’t make any distinction on “him” at all; it is like a cutout of a person from a black felted cardboard paper placed behind the bench. Compared to everything else around her, he’s the darkest there is; beyond any hint of color of violet, deepest blue or any hint of gray. She finds herself halfway between where she started and that odd being when ‘he’ turns to look at her. She could tell because she sees a white Cheshire grin revolving to greet her with glowing yellow dots above it as eyes. She froze, her stomach drops and her blood runs cold. A moment passes by with absolute stillness until she hears creepy echoes of laughter from behind her. Elauria turns her head to look behind and finds nothing; it is as if every bush & tree or shadow seem to mock her. In confusion, she turns back and nearly jumps out of her skin when she finds the grinning shadow looming over her.

    She couldn’t move, his stare locked unto to hers; a deer in the headlights. A tiny voice, a women’s whisper, urges her to run. Hesitantly, she twitches her arms and legs in tiny effort. The creature with the unchanging face raises his arm up high and grows dark talons from his so called hand. The mysterious voice suddenly barked in her mind, “MOVE!” causing her to blink. With that blink, she finds her freedom to move herself and make a hasty retreat out of harm’s way. She opens her eyes and finds herself in the forest again, but she dares not stop. Increasingly the laughter grew around her, making her heart beat faster than ever. “Don’t stop! Keep moving! I will guide you, trust in me!” That is what she hears every single time she ever slows down for a second. Eventually the creepy voices grew silent and she hears the sounds of crickets growing near. An opening ahead of her shows a starry night and another open field of grass. She closes her eyes and sprints into the natural portal, not stopping until something catches her in gentle arms.