Author Topic: The Forest. ( A story. )  (Read 1307 times)

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Saken

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The Forest. ( A story. )
« on: January 18, 2010, 12:47:02 AM »
So, this story stems from a dream that I've been having. It may, or may not, be good but i'm giving it a try. PLEASE give me feedback.

Chapter One:

“Father, why are you taking me here? I don't want to go live with him just because of –You--.”

The young girl's voice was filled with venom, her poison green eyes glittering with her foul feelings as she kicked back, resting her feet upon the back of a brown leather seat that was rattling slightly. They where in a car, on the way to her uncle's house. A crazy uncle that they often kept hidden, and no one ever talked about and, oh yea, thought the woods near where he lived in were filled with horrid little creatures invisible to most people. That's not even getting into what happens at night, or the fact that the trees, yes the TREES, somehow could trap people and take them back in time.

“He's effin crazy, you can't leave me with him just because you two can't handle me!”

The second you turned around, leveling a pair of lighter green eyes on her daughter, mouth pressed in a tight line, red lipstick a serious slash, coloring her face. Her mother had gone crazy now that she hit like, 40,000. It wasn't her fault that the old broad was old, but no. They had to go through some sort of damned mid-life crises now that they hid the old age of 42. Really, Mac didn't seem to understand why the had suddenly gone crazy and dragged her into it, or not into it as it was.

“I don't want to live with him, he's e--” She got cut off by an evil look by her mom. Her eyes narrowed back at the woman as she crossed her arms and turned her head, staring through a shock of brown and red hair out at the forest that would eventually lead them to her uncle's house, an uncle she never wanted to see in the first place, an uncle she had not heard a good thing about. He was a lunatic, she was sure of it. Staring at a blur of orange,red, and yellow foliage Mac thought she had seen a tilted face hidden within the leaves, but shook her head. All this talk about her uncle was getting her anxious, making her believe she had seen things. Too think it had only been a few days ago when she had first learned of him, Uncle Steven, the family loon.

Flash back ( Five days earlier). -

“Mom..” The slightly younger, and utterly move lovable, Mac stared up at the woman whom she had known for a full 14 years before this but, for the last two weeks, she just didn't know who this person was. This woman smoke and drank, she wore loud clothing and wore too much makeup. She cursed and cussed, and spoke too loud – she wasn't mom, she wasn't even a human to Mac. “What are you doing?”

It was hard for Mac to keep her voice below a shriek as she stared at her mother, who wore a clingy silk top and a pair of too short shorts, making her look like a wanna be teenager. Mac couldn't hide the look of disgust on her face as she watched her mother lift a beer bottle to her lips and take a swing off it, drunken giggles escaping her lipstick covered lips.

“Mom?” Mac pleaded slightly, her teeth singing into her lower lip as she sighed and went to snatch the brown glass bottle from her mother's hand and her fingers but, alas, her father caught her wrist in a gentle hold and tugged her back. “Come on now, Mac. To  the kitchen, we need to talk..You're going away for a little bit.” Her father didn't look happy, his brown eyes distant. She had a feeling that he wasn't behind what was going to happen next, but that didn't stop the wave of resentment that boiled within her stomach and bursts from her mouth in the form of word vomit.

“I Don't WANT to be in this fami—” Her mother interrupted her , “Good, cause you're leaving to live with your Uncle Steven..”

Present –

“We're here.” The high pitched falsetto shocked Mac out of her memory, and past and present blurred in a fresh wave of hatred and anger. Slinking further into her seat, she shut her eyes and sucked in a sweet smelling breath that filled her lungs. Her mother, and father, may have changed for the worse but the air was still perforated with the scent of strawberries, her mother's favorite scent. Hot tears prickled behind her eyelids as the car stopped and a rush of crisp autumn air blew into the automobile. She didn't want to get out, but knew that if she didn't her father would drag her from the car without any consent.

A set of shredded tenny shoes landed on loose black earth, and fingers twined together as she chewed at her lips with her teeth, peeking around with those poison green eyes. The fluffed locks were pulled around by the wind as she stumbled forward, needles pricking beneath her skin because of how long she had waited in the car. Lips where pulled back to resemble a smile as she waited, watching a set of brown boots walk towards her and a deep voice slip from someone's chest. “Well, if it isn't Mac..”


" Do not be misled; They say 'judge not,' but they send to hell all that is different." - Nekete.
" Those who were seen dancing were deemed insane by those who could not hear the music."

mepwnn

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Re: The Forest. ( A story. )
« Reply #1 on: January 18, 2010, 01:21:10 AM »
Hey, it's not bad! I'm not a writer, though, so I can't give any real feedback
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Saken

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Re: The Forest. ( A story. )
« Reply #2 on: January 18, 2010, 04:51:53 PM »
Chapter Two

“Hey.” She stated, her voice glacier cold as she kept her eyes fixated on those boots, watching the leather flex as he stepped forward. Even though she was expecting it, the heavy hand that landed on her shoulders had the girl glaring upwards and almost flinching back, but it didn't matter. Poison eyes widened in shock as she stared up at a face that, if it were about twenty or so years younger, could have been her male twin. She had no clue that her uncle would look so much like her. He even had the odd mixture or red and brown hair, while her mother had her auburn hair, and her father had his stringy blackish-brownish shit colored hair. The large smile that stretched a crossed the man's withered face made it hard not to like him, and the gleam in his own green eyes (about half a shade darker than her own, if that), made it hard to believe that she was staring at the effin' crazy Uncle Steven whom she had heard about.

Her face settled further into a scowl, shoulders slumping until she had the worst posture in the world, and then she grumbled. She may have been in her early teens, and may have generally not have shown this attitude, but it was truly too much. She was getting shipped away to live with a crazy uncle, who didn't seem crazy, because her parents had gone insane, an--

Mac's head jerked up as she heard the sound of tires on gravel and an engine starting up. Twisting her body she stared in slack-faced horror as her parents started down the drive way, a bag resting by her leg. She hadn't even noticed when they had placed it there, couldn't recall the soft murmurers and piercing sound of their voices. “W-What?!” I cried out, my legs going numb. I almost wished I could have run after them and, as if we were in a movie or what not, they would see me and realize what a horrid mistake they were leaving me too, I mean, really. A crazy uncle? But no, they didn't turn around, and..Well, there was a bit of wet stuff coming from the sky but, when I looked up, it wasn't rain. Nope, just the damned trees dripping something atop my head.

A low cough interrupted her thought process, and what good it did it. If it hadn't she might have started punching the tree, or some other crap, just to make this burning resentment fade from inside of her chest. Once more she turned, this time slowly, almost methodically. It was over, she couldn't really say anything else. For better or for worse she was stuck here, with him, in this little hell hole..Even if it wasn't an actual hell hole and she was assured it had running water by her parents, but that didn't mean anything. She had also been assured that Steven was insane but that didn't seem to be true. Yet.

“Now for the rules.” Mac almost groaned, her nose crinkling upwards. She didn't want to hear about the rules. Adults always had rules, always, and they generally made things horrid. “Don't go by the trampoline, it's on top of a farm of gnarles.” Her brow raised, staring at him. It was true. H-h-e was fuckin insane! Shaking her head of brown red hair, Mac kinda sighed. “And let me guess,” her voice was sarcastic, “The trees are alive, and so is everything else and we live on the edge of a whole new realm!”

He must not have gotten the sarcasm in her voice, because his young looking face brightened, floppy hair falling into his eyes as he nodded. “I'm glad that someone clued you in!” She stared at him, one of her eyes twitching. She didn't know how the fuck she was supposed to survive like this, with a man who didn't understand sarcasm and who seemed to think that she would listen to his insane reasons for not going into the fun areas. Green orbs narrowed, her lips set to the side while she sauntered forward, leaving her blue duffel bad on the ground, headed for the large black trampoline that was shaking for some unknown reason. She was sure she could get him to kick her out. Sure,living with sudden childish parents was pretty damned bad, but it was better than, well. This!

Continuing towards the trembling trampoline (hah! Sounds funny), she stood in front of it and placed her palms on the cold metal. Looking around, she couldn't seem to find out why it was trembling. Her brows knitted together in the middle of her forehead, a low sigh falling from her lips as she turned around, keeping her arms on the metal springs of the trampoline, before she hopped up onto the metal bar and slowly swung jean covered legs back and forth, red shoe laces swinging through the air.

“ACK!” She shrieked out, falling backwards as something tugged hard upon her shoe lace, almost pulling her shoe from her small foot. Looking around hurriedly, she could tell there was no one there. Fear colored her cheeks, turning her regular rosy-cheeked parlor into deathly pale. “Uncle Steven, it's not funny!” She cried out, looking around. She didn't see him though, no floppy red brown hair or dancing green eyes shining with amusement. In fact the trembling of the object had reached such great heights that she couldn't see anything. She could even feel her brain rattling around in her head, a whimper of fear joining a spray of saliva from her mouth.

Another squeal had Mac jumping from the dangerous object and running towards the wood cabin type house, terror causing her to almost fall over. Hitting the wall, she pressed close eyes falling closed and clammy forehead pressing to the rough wall as she panted, trying to regain her breath. There may not be 'gnarles' beneath the damned thing, but there was something beeath it that had run her off. Coughing a bit, the girl cleared her air ways and was going to waltz into the house, shaken and scared. Before she had the chance, though, something wet pushed against her leg. Upon looking down she couldn't see anything, and her eyes went wise. A shriek escaped her mouth as she fell over and screamed in renewed fear, which quickly twisted into agonized screams.

Something, something she couldn't see, bit into her ankle and tore into it with blunt teeth. It hurt more that if the teeth had been sharp, and she thought that she might have fallen asleep in the car, that this was just a dream but, when she didn't wake up, she knew it wasn't true. Whatever was out their, or at least whatever was biting her, was real. That didn't mean her uncle was right about every thing, though. No, he couldn't be.

Speaking of Uncles, Steven rushed out of the house, a makeshift torch clenched in his strong hands. He waved it at her ankle, and the gnawing sensation seized. Bright red blood started to flow from her ankle, staining the darkened skin as she watched it. Her uncle skooped her upwards, acting as if her muscled body didn't weigh anything. She clung to him, near hyperventilating. He was mumbling, something about telling her to leave them along, to not have gone over there but she couldn't really make out the words, just the tone and his deep voice.It was soothing, and she found herself relaxing, her screams twisting into whimpers and then little sniffles as tears wetting her cheeks.

When they got inside the house, Steven placed the girl on the plush couch and propped her foot and ankle p on a pillow, not even minding the chance that the pillow, a soft violet color, could get stained. He placed a dish towel to her ankle and gave her a piercing look, made all the more scary by the sanity that made them clear. His glare was how her mother's had been, before she had started to go hazy.

“Next time, Macaulay listen to me, okay? I know the family thinks..Well, They're -wrong-.” He shook his head, short strands of red and brown swishing a crossed his sweaty forehead. “You don't understand how bad this is. I don't even know how your parents..No one was supposed to know where I lived..But. You're here, and they've had a taste.”

Mac opened her mouth, but Steven held up a hand, sighing. “You need to turn into bed, all that can help this,” he gestured towards her ankle, “Is rest.”

Mac nodded her head, bitting onto her lower lip before making herself comfortable. She'd go to sleep here, and she'd find out more in the morning.


" Do not be misled; They say 'judge not,' but they send to hell all that is different." - Nekete.
" Those who were seen dancing were deemed insane by those who could not hear the music."