Red
I
Once upon a time, as many tales go, there was a village surrounded by a very large forest. In fact, this village was situated on an island; a small, secluded island that no one is allowed to talk about for many reasons. Reasons everyone knows exist but no one really knows what they are.
There were many villagers on this island, but only one had ever truly terrified any of them. Her name was Mrs. Whalen, Rowan's grandmother. Why would anyone be afraid of a little old lady, you might be asking yourself. No one really knows why. There’s just something about her piercing dark eyes that make them shake in their old, used boots.
Ever since Rowan was a little girl, everyone loved her. They loved her parents as well, and everyone cried at their funeral. However, when Rowan was forced to move in with her grandmother after her parents' mysterious accident, the villagers shunned her. Many questioned the truth about little Rowan’s origins because, in their minds, how could anyone so sweet and innocent spring from Mrs. Whalen’s genes? Rowan never could understand why anyone would be scared of her grandmother; she thought her grandmother to be the best person in the world. Rowan didn't mind it so much; it just meant she could have her grandmother to herself all the time. Besides, being ignored by her entire village wasn't so bad, she liked to be by herself.
Every year, Mrs. Whalen endured the frightened whispers and shutting of the villagers' shutters just to get Rowan a birthday present, and every year a wolf would attack the village people on that very same day. Naturally, every one blamed Mrs. Whalen for what happened. No one actually thought that she herself was the wolf – because that would not only be absurd but impossible – but they believed that the wolf followed her out of the forest and came into the village with her, like a pet dog would follow its master.
That year, when it was time for Mrs. Whalen to leave the forest where their home was located, something different happened. Mrs. Whalen was in fact followed by something but no one would ever be able to tell you what. On that fateful day, nothing happened. Everyone wondered what could have happened to change their fate. Only Mrs.Whalen would ever truly understand what had happened.
Every year when Rowan’s birthday came around, she got more and more excited. This year was a special year because it was her 21st birthday and her grandmother always said that the twenty-first birthday in their family was the biggest one for them. Except, for some reason, her grandmother was being more protective than she had ever been on Rowan’s past birthdays. She wouldn't even let Rowan leave the house to go pick some flowers. Mrs. Whalen had been extremely reluctant to leave the cottage and Rowan couldn't understand why. What was there so different about this year than the last?
However, despite all Mrs. Whalen’s efforts to stay, Rowan convinced her grandmother to leave – well, forced her to leave would be more accurate... by pushing her out the door.
Rowan watched as her grandmother’s back disappeared through the thick trees of the forest surrounding their house, smiling as she breathed, finally being able to relax. Rowan enjoyed having a day to herself where she wasn’t forced to do chores or hunt for food. She looked forward to this day every year.
Rowan turned to the hooks placed by the door and grabbed her red hooded cloak. It had been her mother’s present for her 21st birthday and her grandmother had finally allowed her to wear it. She held it to her nose and smelled it; sometimes she imagined it still smelled like her mother. She would never know what she had smelt like though. She shrugged the cloak onto her shoulders and clasped it at the front, and opened the door, stepping outside of the cottage. If her grandmother knew what Rowan did every year when she wasn't there...
Rowan walked down the stairs and followed the path to the back of the cottage. Once she reached the back, she picked up her basket that sat near the garden and turned towards the forest.
Her grandmother used to say that the entire reason their ancestors had built the cottage in the middle of the forest with the front of the house facing the side of the forest that headed to the village was so that when villagers ended up there, they would know not to cross to the other side. Why? The other side was the dangerous side of the forest where no soul dared to enter. Mrs. Whalen would always tell Rowan that terrible things happened on that side. Ever since her grandmother had first told her the story, Rowan had ignored it and gone into the "bad" side of the forest every year on her birthday. This year was no different and Rowan was excited to feel truly free again.
On her way to the clearing in the middle of the forest where she could lie on the forest floor for hours, she stopped to pick herbs and flowers that you couldn't find on the other side of the forest.
Crack.
Rowan spun around and searched the surrounding area quickly. Had someone followed her into the forest? She hoped not. Nothing bad had ever happened to her while she was here but who knew what would happen to anyone else. She’d been visiting this side of the forest since she was nine and she still hadn't seen all the animals that resided on this side of the forest.
Rowan froze as she felt someone else enter the tiny clearing she had stopped in when the first sound of another presence had become apparent. Crack.
“What’s a little girl like you doing here, my dear?” a male’s voice asked.
Rowan sighed, not feeling threatened by his voice, and turned around slowly. She stopped mid-turn at the sight of said man. He wasn't a man at all. He was merely a boy. He looked to be 12 or 13. She stared at him as something seemed familiar about him. She wasn't sure if she was crazy or not, but he almost seemed to resemble what her father had looked like as a boy. If you took away the wild look in his eyes and cleaned him up a bit.
“You know, walking in this forest is not safe for a girl like you. And that red cloak is a horrible thing to be wearing. It’s dangerous and anyone could spot you,” he said.
“What’s your name?” Rowan asked, ignoring him.
“One that no person will ever be able to utter, I’m afraid.”
“And why is that?” she asked tilting her head.
“It brings out the dark in me,” he said ominously, his voice still sounding very much like a man twice his age.
“If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”
He stared at me, his eyes wide and wild.
“My name is Rowan,” she told him.
“I think I’ll call you Red instead,” he told her, smiling devilishly.
“No one’s ever called me that before,” she said, grinning.
“Good. Then let me be the only one to ever call you that.” She nodded, agreeing.
Rowan whipped her head to the side when she heard a growl coming from the direction of the part of the forest she had been planning on entering. She stared at it, hoping to see what had made the noise but discovered that there was nothing there. Rowan turned back to the boy in front of her only to discover that he had disappeared. Instead, her grandmother stood there.
“What are you doing out here?!” Mrs. Whalen exclaimed. “I got back from the village two hours ago! Do you know how panicked I was when I realized you weren't there, your cloak and basket gone? I thought something had happened to you!”
“Grandmama,” Rowan said, attempting to interrupt her.
“Stupid girl!” she yelled. “It’s dangerous out here. How many times will I have to tell you that in your life time?”
“Grandmama, I was only out here for a half hour at most. I left as soon as you were out of sight. Nothing happened to me. I just ran into a boy…”
“A boy? What boy? There’s a boy in the forest! Oh God, it’s happening. It’s too early. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” Mrs. Whalen began to mumble to herself.
“Grandmama?” Rowan whispered, afraid that her grandmother was beginning to lose her sanity.
“You! You’re coming back to the cottage with me and we’re staying in there until this year is over. You are not to leave the cottage, do you understand me?” Mrs. Whalen demanded.
Rowan nodded, afraid to anger her grandmother and be the cause of her going insane.
“Good. Now, come with me,” her grandmother said as she grabbed her hand and pulled her through the woods in the way which Rowan had come.
There were many villagers on this island, but only one had ever truly terrified any of them. Her name was Mrs. Whalen, Rowan's grandmother. Why would anyone be afraid of a little old lady, you might be asking yourself. No one really knows why. There’s just something about her piercing dark eyes that make them shake in their old, used boots.
Ever since Rowan was a little girl, everyone loved her. They loved her parents as well, and everyone cried at their funeral. However, when Rowan was forced to move in with her grandmother after her parents' mysterious accident, the villagers shunned her. Many questioned the truth about little Rowan’s origins because, in their minds, how could anyone so sweet and innocent spring from Mrs. Whalen’s genes? Rowan never could understand why anyone would be scared of her grandmother; she thought her grandmother to be the best person in the world. Rowan didn't mind it so much; it just meant she could have her grandmother to herself all the time. Besides, being ignored by her entire village wasn't so bad, she liked to be by herself.
Every year, Mrs. Whalen endured the frightened whispers and shutting of the villagers' shutters just to get Rowan a birthday present, and every year a wolf would attack the village people on that very same day. Naturally, every one blamed Mrs. Whalen for what happened. No one actually thought that she herself was the wolf – because that would not only be absurd but impossible – but they believed that the wolf followed her out of the forest and came into the village with her, like a pet dog would follow its master.
That year, when it was time for Mrs. Whalen to leave the forest where their home was located, something different happened. Mrs. Whalen was in fact followed by something but no one would ever be able to tell you what. On that fateful day, nothing happened. Everyone wondered what could have happened to change their fate. Only Mrs.Whalen would ever truly understand what had happened.
***
Every year when Rowan’s birthday came around, she got more and more excited. This year was a special year because it was her 21st birthday and her grandmother always said that the twenty-first birthday in their family was the biggest one for them. Except, for some reason, her grandmother was being more protective than she had ever been on Rowan’s past birthdays. She wouldn't even let Rowan leave the house to go pick some flowers. Mrs. Whalen had been extremely reluctant to leave the cottage and Rowan couldn't understand why. What was there so different about this year than the last?
However, despite all Mrs. Whalen’s efforts to stay, Rowan convinced her grandmother to leave – well, forced her to leave would be more accurate... by pushing her out the door.
Rowan watched as her grandmother’s back disappeared through the thick trees of the forest surrounding their house, smiling as she breathed, finally being able to relax. Rowan enjoyed having a day to herself where she wasn’t forced to do chores or hunt for food. She looked forward to this day every year.
Rowan turned to the hooks placed by the door and grabbed her red hooded cloak. It had been her mother’s present for her 21st birthday and her grandmother had finally allowed her to wear it. She held it to her nose and smelled it; sometimes she imagined it still smelled like her mother. She would never know what she had smelt like though. She shrugged the cloak onto her shoulders and clasped it at the front, and opened the door, stepping outside of the cottage. If her grandmother knew what Rowan did every year when she wasn't there...
Rowan walked down the stairs and followed the path to the back of the cottage. Once she reached the back, she picked up her basket that sat near the garden and turned towards the forest.
Her grandmother used to say that the entire reason their ancestors had built the cottage in the middle of the forest with the front of the house facing the side of the forest that headed to the village was so that when villagers ended up there, they would know not to cross to the other side. Why? The other side was the dangerous side of the forest where no soul dared to enter. Mrs. Whalen would always tell Rowan that terrible things happened on that side. Ever since her grandmother had first told her the story, Rowan had ignored it and gone into the "bad" side of the forest every year on her birthday. This year was no different and Rowan was excited to feel truly free again.
On her way to the clearing in the middle of the forest where she could lie on the forest floor for hours, she stopped to pick herbs and flowers that you couldn't find on the other side of the forest.
Crack.
Rowan spun around and searched the surrounding area quickly. Had someone followed her into the forest? She hoped not. Nothing bad had ever happened to her while she was here but who knew what would happen to anyone else. She’d been visiting this side of the forest since she was nine and she still hadn't seen all the animals that resided on this side of the forest.
Rowan froze as she felt someone else enter the tiny clearing she had stopped in when the first sound of another presence had become apparent. Crack.
“What’s a little girl like you doing here, my dear?” a male’s voice asked.
Rowan sighed, not feeling threatened by his voice, and turned around slowly. She stopped mid-turn at the sight of said man. He wasn't a man at all. He was merely a boy. He looked to be 12 or 13. She stared at him as something seemed familiar about him. She wasn't sure if she was crazy or not, but he almost seemed to resemble what her father had looked like as a boy. If you took away the wild look in his eyes and cleaned him up a bit.
“You know, walking in this forest is not safe for a girl like you. And that red cloak is a horrible thing to be wearing. It’s dangerous and anyone could spot you,” he said.
“What’s your name?” Rowan asked, ignoring him.
“One that no person will ever be able to utter, I’m afraid.”
“And why is that?” she asked tilting her head.
“It brings out the dark in me,” he said ominously, his voice still sounding very much like a man twice his age.
“If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”
He stared at me, his eyes wide and wild.
“My name is Rowan,” she told him.
“I think I’ll call you Red instead,” he told her, smiling devilishly.
“No one’s ever called me that before,” she said, grinning.
“Good. Then let me be the only one to ever call you that.” She nodded, agreeing.
Rowan whipped her head to the side when she heard a growl coming from the direction of the part of the forest she had been planning on entering. She stared at it, hoping to see what had made the noise but discovered that there was nothing there. Rowan turned back to the boy in front of her only to discover that he had disappeared. Instead, her grandmother stood there.
“What are you doing out here?!” Mrs. Whalen exclaimed. “I got back from the village two hours ago! Do you know how panicked I was when I realized you weren't there, your cloak and basket gone? I thought something had happened to you!”
“Grandmama,” Rowan said, attempting to interrupt her.
“Stupid girl!” she yelled. “It’s dangerous out here. How many times will I have to tell you that in your life time?”
“Grandmama, I was only out here for a half hour at most. I left as soon as you were out of sight. Nothing happened to me. I just ran into a boy…”
“A boy? What boy? There’s a boy in the forest! Oh God, it’s happening. It’s too early. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” Mrs. Whalen began to mumble to herself.
“Grandmama?” Rowan whispered, afraid that her grandmother was beginning to lose her sanity.
“You! You’re coming back to the cottage with me and we’re staying in there until this year is over. You are not to leave the cottage, do you understand me?” Mrs. Whalen demanded.
Rowan nodded, afraid to anger her grandmother and be the cause of her going insane.
“Good. Now, come with me,” her grandmother said as she grabbed her hand and pulled her through the woods in the way which Rowan had come.