Cry Out to Me

"Hurry up, you brainless child!" Mother yells out again. Father is right beside her, his face having an expression I've never seen before. It looks... pained, but at once, relieved. I can feel it. Like having a nail violently pulled out of your feet. "We're going to the forest to gather firewood. You're going with us today."

"But Mother, I don't really want to go..." I say, shyly.

"Do you know how to be quiet? Whether you want it or not, you're coming." There is a hint of impatience in her unnatural anger, and she grabs my wrists tight and pulls me along roughly. I become scared and my heart feels like it's going to pound out of my chest. I want to call out to Louie and beg him to save me, but he only hold my other hand to comfort me and whisper to me that I should be patient so that our plan will go well. Louie is smarter than me, so I trust him.

The sound of pebbles rattle as I try to keep my steps up with Mother. She suddenly stops before we enter the forest and let go of my wrist.

"What's with the stuff in your pocket?" She questions.

I shifted uneasily. "It's nothing, Mother. I was collecting pebbles by the stream for our game-"

"Drop them all."

Cold sweat starts to form around the back of my neck. I've never been this scared, or feel this kind of panic before. Louie, what do we do...

It's okay, Ilse. Just do what she says. I have another idea.

"I said, drop them all!"

And I drop all the pebbles from my pocket.

"Good," she crosses her arms. "We won't need that. It'll just burden you out."

It's not strange at all. Mother never cares of me except if it's for her own good. Even when she lies, even when she plays nice even for only once in my life, I've never felt the truth from her good actions.

We walk behind our parents as we enter the forest. I've been in the forest to play sometimes. I only stayed in the outskirts of it since the more you enter the creepier it gets. And I heard strange noises once. Louie told me it must have been from an animal, but I don't know other animals other than birds, ants, frogs, cats, and rabbits. They're not dangerous. Does that mean that animals aren't dangerous? I still feel scared about the animals in the forest that I don't know yet.

My feet makes rustling noise from stepping on the fallen leaves. It's the end of fall, and the trees are now bare. It's really cold, but at least the wind isn't as strong as the wind in the meadow. My only clothing is made up of loose, long-sleeved shirt and baggy pants with two large pockets in it. No wonder food is hard to get. Winter is coming.

Ilse, Louie said. Do you still have that bread from this morning's breakfast?

Yeah, I do.

Let's drop the pieces on the ground in place of the pebbles.

I take the bread out quietly, and start to take of a little piece of it to drop it to the ground as we walk. I'm tempted to eat it and my mouth starts to drool, but our lives depend on this half-eaten loaf of bread. Well, yes, we do depend on bread everyday to keep us alive. I just never thought that there's another way like this.

We walk for what feels like hours. When I look back, I can no longer see any open space anymore except for trees and more trees. The cloudy, dull grey sky becomes even more eerie as we enter the deepest parts of the forest. Louie is right. There's no need to make yourself lost just to gather firewood. Mother and Father are going to abandon us in here for real.

Shadows dance between the trees. The well-known silence of the forest - a silence made up of the sounds of bugs and birds - haunted the tense situation even more. On other situations, it would have been magical. Right now the frequent, high-pitched noises bother me even more. It would have driven me insane if I don't talk to Louie along the way.

We approach a small, open space. Father makes a quick bonfire and we are told to sit down and wait until our parents come back to fetch us after gathering firewood.

We know that it will never happen.