He shouldn’t be here. They had warned him, or rather, he had warned himself.
Why would they warn him anyway? They’d stopped caring about him, said he was a big boy now and should not bother them anymore.
“This is fine,” he said to no one, looking over his shoulder, the camp dwindling as he walked further into the woods. He could already taste the blood in his mouth; he’d been biting the inside of his lips. For years, he thought he’d removed that habit. The habit that every time he got edgy, he would nibble the insides of his mouth, or pick his lips. The other kids had made fun of him, said he was doing himself a favor since he was an albino and having bloody lips added color to his skin. But he wasn’t an albino. He just had a pale, very pale skin.
Should he turn on his flashlight now? The other campers might have noticed that he was missing. They might be looking for him now! They would spot him. He shook his head. No, no one would miss him. It had been that way for months now.
So the boy turned on his flashlight. It didn’t give a bright light as opposed to how he had hoped for, but it was this or nothing. The clouds were still covering the moon. Up ahead, he could picture the hill they had climbed down from, the one with the huge white tower; the one they called ‘The Lighthouse’ except it never produced a light. It was simply there. Children were indeed weird. He’d asked if they’d been there, but they’d told him to stop giving them curiosity. There are things better left unknown, they’d said. Because that was what the adults always said to them. But not him. He had seen what was inside the white tower, had experienced how to live in there. Things his fellow children could only dream for.
The day before his exploring, the leader of the camp had warned them to not climb it alone as the rocks were slippery. Three years ago, that would have scared him. Three years ago, he would have listened.
But his best friend was right. Had been right. He should live a little, should take more risk. He wasn’t sure though if this was the kind of risk, his best friend wanted him to do.390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡenUJaQEk7w
Looking back again, the camp was nothing but a dot. He let out a big breath, the one that he’d been holding. His other side, the rational side, was telling him to turn back. But he couldn’t. Nobody wanted him there anyway. Besides, what could possibly go wrong?390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3Yx5jHOOpM
Then he heard a rustling. He flinched. He stopped. He listened. Then nothing.390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9PSs5bjSRd
What was that? He was sure he’d heard something, but the woods were telling him he’d heard nothing. “It’s normal,” he whispered. Again, to no one because nobody was there aside from him. It had been normal since ancient times. It had been normal, even before humans could talk. It was normal to be afraid of the dark because—390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡttp93UrSea
This time, dried leaves and snapping twigs sounded the same. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Strangely, as it came nearer—whatever it was—sounded like it was stepping on things that shouldn’t be here in the woods. His heart hammered in his chest when he realized that he was correct, that his ears were not deceiving him. Yes, somebody was stepping on something.390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpycuuJENRY
The boy whirled around, exhaling more than inhaling. Even with his flashlight on, he couldn’t spot the source of that noise.390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd9G1gBBuUI
Road. The road back to the camp. He should walk there now—no, run, he should run back there and never check out who—whatever that was—390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4XU3tyNANC
“Hello,” said someone with a raspy voice. The voice itself reminded him of sandpaper.390Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡehRbmQMGPO
The boy closed his eyes, trembling inside. Now he remembered, it was not just him who had warned himself. They had warned him. Not about the woods. But about this very person behind him. The taste of blood stronger now as he prepared himself.
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