The Wandering Girl

It was dark, cold and unfamiliar. We had never been to these parts of the woods before. A sound would have been comforting, the rustle of the trees, the whispering of the wind. A sound would startle us, however, at least we would know that we were not the only presence in this forsaken place. The trees were dead, rotten to their cores and we were standing upon a carpet of decaying leaves. It was summer. I clung to Jack’s hand as we progressed further. I wanted to turn back.

We all chose to come here, the Forbidden Woods as the elders called them; we wanted to feel the fear and anticipation of incoming danger, even though there was none to be found. We were also searching. Searching for the meaning behind the name, why the elders shuddered at the mention, promising to tell us when we were older. None of us could wait that long. Being born into a tribe, you were fed tribal stories and superstitions as a daily meal. These stories had been passed down through the ages, so I had always doubted their accuracy. The elders didn’t watch TV, or even consider modern science so their tales of evil forests full of dark magic blew right over my head. I suppose another reason we had come was to show them that they were just being superstitious and then maybe we could all move on from the magical stories that dictated how we should live our lives.

I felt a cold chill run up my spine. Jack, Leah and Sam shuddered. We spun around, hoping to feel a breeze, but what we saw changed us forever. It was a girl. She was small, a child, staring at us with glassy eyes. With each step she took, my back grew straighter as more stabbing chills pierced at my spine. Taking no notice of us, she walked on past. None of us said a word, but instinctively, our curiosity took control and we followed her. We all chose to follow her.

She led us deeper and deeper into the woods, and had we have been in our right minds, we would have turned around, but we were taken over by our curiosity. It seemed that we had been walking for hours when we reached the edge of the woods. The ghost had led us home. We all shouted “Thank You!” as loud as we could, but the ghost carried on walking in the woods, doomed to roam forever. The walk back to the tribal village was jubilant.
“Why were the elders so afraid of that little ghost?” Leah cried.
“Maybe the thought of ghosts scared them. Maybe not all ghosts are like the little girl.” Suggested Jack.
I was confused. “Shouldn’t we all be scared? Ghosts exist!”
“Why should we be?” Leah retorted. “If they leave us alone once, they have no reason to harm us ever.”
I was still unsure.