Cry Out to Me

We rest our backs on a log as we listen to the crackling of the fire. We wait a few hours to make sure that we won't stumble upon our parents on the way back. Ilse is tired from walking so far, so I let her sleep, and here I am, watching the light of our little campfire that our father has made us die bit by bit. I realise that we'll need it for later, so I wake Ilse up and told her that we should get going now.

It feels weird of me to wake Ilse up, because I've never done that before. It's usually me that's woken up by Ilse.

We stand up, fueled by hope and determination of getting back home.

I reach out to a steady branch and break it off its tree. I realise that I'm so weak, I need great effort to do that simple task. I also struggle to rip a shred off my pants. Why am I so weak?

"Louie, what are you trying to do?" Ilse questions me.

"I'm making us a torch."

I know that it's not the best way. I don't even know how to make a torch. I've only watch dad carry it into the night.

Finally I manage to rip a long messy strip off my pants and tie it to the branch. Then I dip it to the fire until it lights up. I hope I won't burn both of us.

We walk to where we think we came from, since the log we slept on faced directly to the opposite of it. Thank goodness, we are right. Ilse spots the first crumb of bread. We move on to the next crumb, and the next, and the next. Ilse calms down and I grow more confident. It's not so dark right now. We'll make it before sundown. We'll be alright... Ilse will be alright.

The grey sky is becoming darker and darker. To be honest, I have no sense of time, so I don't know how long we've waited, how long our parents took when they brought us here, or how long we've walked by now. It all feels the same to me: forever. It could have driven me mad if Ilse isn't here. I have to be strong so Ilse can be weak. I can't be scared just because of losing track of time.

Ilse suddenly stops dead in her tracks. "What's wrong, Ilse?"

"Louie... the crumb... I'm sure I dropped one here..." She says with a shaky voice. "I drop one every twenty steps..."

"It's okay, maybe we missed it or something. Let's look around again."

We walk back and forth from the previous crumb, but we can't find any to make us sure that we're going on the right path. Standing on the same spot where we noticed the missing crumb before, we agree to put our last crumb there and walk twenty steps forward. These bread crumbs are like our rope that leads us to the exit when we are trapped in total darkness. If the rope snaps, we're done for.

"17, 18, 19..." I whisper, our chests tense with worry.

"...20."

We find nothing.

Ilse starts to panic. "A-are you sure? Check to your left!"

We look left and right, down the bushes, under the leaves, but the search is in vain. There are no bread crumbs to find. Not even a hint that we've been there before. It feels like that the forest is cursed with magic and the place changes every hour, each tree shifting to another place, and each branch untangle only to form another complicated network of wood.

I must be getting tired. I'm imagining things.

"Let's go back," I tell her. "It's safer to start back from the crumb we left."

She only nods, and we walk back another twenty steps.

My heart stops when I find nothing on the ground. A sharp sound interrupted our shock, and we turned to the source. It is the sound of a bird, and it is looking at us with its round black eyes. On its beak is our crumb of bread. It throws the crumb into the air and catches it with its beak open, swallowing our last hope of getting out of this forest.

The bird looks at us one last time with its beady eyes, and with a flap of its wings, it flies away.

That bird was there to mock us. To tell us how we screwed up.

The world spins around me as my heart plunges in despair. All hope is lost. I shouldn't have used bread to mark the way. I shouldn't have been so stupid. I'm so stupid, I repeat to myself over and over. The world seems to be collapsing as a strong wave of nausea hit me. I feel cold sweat forming on the back of my neck. We're not going to make it-

"It's okay, brother," Ilse tells me. "We can just keep walking on."

Her voice breaks me off my panic almost immediately. I expect her to be in a state worse than me, but she sounds calm. Almost brave. Aren't I the one who's supposed to be strong? This isn't right. I feels like it's me that comforting myself, and I'm Ilse. I don't know what's happening.

Why am I so weak?

I haven't even realise that tears are streaming down my face. This isn't the smart thing to do right now. I don't understand myself. "Ilse, why..?" I attempt to talk, but I can't even form a sentence.

"Don't worry, just let it all out." Ilse says. "Don't keep it inside."

"No," I tell her. "Let's just keep walking until... until we find our way out."

I stand up and start to walk immediately, knowing that Ilse will follow me. Being sure that the bread crumbs are cleanly picked by birds, I don't stop to look at the ground anymore. I just want to get out of here. It's getting dark. I hate the darkness. Moonlight can't even reach us here because the sky is covered with trees.

We walk for ages, praying for luck on every turn. My torch eventually dies and I throw it to the ground in frustration. We don't know how to make fire properly. We don't have anything except our clothes. And we're starving.

Finally, total darkness comes. I can't see anything except shadows, or what I think are shadows. I don't know. I don't know anymore. I'm worried that Ilse can't find me, but I feel her presence beside me. "I'm always here, Louie. We can never be separated, remember?"

"Yeah..." I say, quietly. "I know."

We walk blindly until starvation drains everything out of us. I collapse to the ground, the world spinning above me. My head rests on a pillow of dry leaves and my body on a bed of moss. It feels cool and comfortable. Almost tempting. But I know we should walk on and get out of here. We should get out of here.

I try to lift myself up with my skinny, weak arms. "Ilse, I'm fine, let's keep walking on-"

"I don't want to, Louie."

What?

"There's nowhere to go back to, Louie. Mother and Father doesn't want us. We never had a home from the start. There's... nowhere..." I can feel Ilse's voice falter as she begin to sob.

Strangely, I begin to sob too. Or are her cries also my cries all along? Are my laughter her laughter, and my sorrows her sorrows? I can't think of when my feelings are different from her. I may be scared, but I always hide it. I always hide my emotions, for her. Am I also denying the fact that we have nowhere to go home to, although I knew it from the beginning?

The only difference from us is that Ilse is honest... while I'm a liar.

"Louie... if we can't play, let's just talk..?" Ilse whispers between her sobs.

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

"About... something pleasant. Food. What if our house is made of sweets and candies?"

I smile at the idea. Father brought us sweets once. "Then everyone will be happy, and no one will starve."

"Yeah..." Ilse smiles. "I wish that can happen..."

"I'll take the roof. You can take the window."

"No way! I'll take the roof!"

We keep talking about pleasant things that makes us smile. The air is cool. The forest's rhythmic sounds create a gentle lullaby in my ears. The darkness is making me sleepy. Very sleepy. I think I can sleep here forever as long as Ilse is beside me. And I don't feel like waking up after that...

"Hey, Louie?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll never leave me too, right?"

I laughed under my breath. "Of course not, sister. I'll always be by your side."

I'm becoming extremely sleepy, and Ilse is, too. "Goodnight, Louie."

"Goodnight, Ilse."

"Thanks for everything," I hear her voice echo in my mind as I slowly drown into unconsciousness. "I love you."

"I love you too."

And the last of my energy slips away as my eyes close, letting me fall into a deep, deep sleep.