Mama had three rules for visiting the woods behind the house:
1. Never go into the forest alone.
2. Always let someone know when you go into the forest.
3. And most importantly: never stay out past dark.
If we broke any of the rules, even once, that would be the end of the trips into the woods, something I didn’t think I could bear.
I was seven when I was first allowed to explore the woods. Josie, my sister, was two years older and had been with our father before he left for the war.
Josie had a secret place. A place she found once with Dad. The trees gave way to a clearing a little bigger than the gym at school. In the center was the charred remains of a small house that had collapsed in on itself. Grass and daisies grew between the remains.
Dad hadn’t let Josie near the destroyed house, but we used it as a haven. The ruins became a pirate ship, a doctor’s office, a stage. In the summer, the light filtered through the leaves, giving the clearing a magical feeling, and we became fairy princesses. We never told anyone else of our hideout in the woods, especially Mama. It was a special place just for us.
School had been rough since Dad died a couple of years ago in combat. Mama had struggled to pay bills since. New clothes weren’t a priority so ours were a little too worn and small. Mama left for work at the hospital before we woke up for school. We were a little different from everybody else and no one would let us forget it.
Josie couldn’t keep her mouth shut or her hands to herself. She had an unfortunate habit of punching people who picked on me. I was thankful that she took care of me, but Mama was at her wit’s end.
On the playground, Billy called me Cinder-Eva, asking if I needed new rags. I held Josie back.
“It’s fine.” I told her. “I’m fine.”
Josie glared at Billy. “It’s not fine, Eva.” But when I shook my head, she backed off.
Billy snorted, watching the exchange. “Or Eva, you can be an ugly stepsister.”
Josie got red in the face, fists clenched.
Josie and Billy were both suspended for fighting.
Josie and Mama fought that night.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Mama snapped. “My boss made it clear this is the very last time I can leave early if I want to keep my job.”
“I don’t care what they say about me, but I can’t stand them picking on Eva.”
I couldn’t see Josie from my place hidden near the door in the next room, but I could picture her defiance.
“You’re going to have to. Eva will be alright.”
My breath caught. I wasn’t sure that I would. Josie had started fighting because she found me crying in my bed one night.
“I can’t just stand there.”
“You’re going to have to.” “
Mama-”
“Josie. Enough.”
I couldn’t listen anymore. Josie wouldn’t stop fighting. No matter what Mama made her promise.
There was only one place in the world where I could go on a day like today.
And just this once, I would go alone because I had to.
So I headed into the woods with only a thin jacket. It rained almost every day that week. My shoes squished in the ground, and mud splattered on the hem of my sweatpants.
A branch snapped behind me, and I whirled around, envisioning a bear ready to attack.
My shoulders slumped. “What are you doing here?”
Josie looked just as disheveled as I felt. Her brown curls were coming loose from her ponytail, and her shoes were caked in mud. “Coming after you. I know you were eavesdropping.”
I shrugged and started walking again, Josie falling in step beside me. “Maybe. How’d you know where I was?”
“Of course I knew.”
We didn’t talk for a while, each moving through the woods with muscle memory. My shoelace came untied, and I watched it hit the ground again and again, growing dark with dirt. I never paused to tie it, but I saw Josie watching it too.
I glimpsed the blacked wood of our house through the trees and ran forward, skidding to a stop when I saw the clearing. It was down a hill, so we had to walk down slowly to avoid slipping.
Josie wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me to a fallen log. We sat together, my head resting against her shoulder. I let the tears fall that I had been holding back for so long.
“Do you think it will get easier?” I asked after a while.
“Maybe,” Josie said. “It’s just harder for some people, but we’re strong.”
“I don’t think I want to be strong anymore.”
Josie didn’t say anything, just sat with me.
The trees echoed around us, telling us there was something we forgot, something we forgot, something we forgot, but we didn’t listen.
It was always dark in the forest, the leaves blocking out the light. We didn’t notice how dim it had grown until I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face anymore.
Josie and I realized how late it had gotten at the same time, meeting each other’s gazes with wide eyes.
Rule number three: never stay out in the woods past dark.
“Did you tell Mama?” I asked.
Rule number two: always let someone know when you go into the woods.
Josie shook her head, not meeting my eyes.
Thunder rolled in the distance, and lightning brightened the edges of the forest for a moment. In the shadows, piecing blue eyes stared out at us. A growl rumbled through the trees. A wolf as tall as my shoulders walked out of the trees; teeth bared.
I let out a squeak, grasping Josie’s hand. She squared her shoulders and reached out to the wolf. I squeezed my eyes shut, terrified that I would take my sister home with one less limb.
When no scream came, I peeked open one eye. The wolf sniffed her hand, and we held our breath. The wolf leaped forward, knocking Josie into the mud. He licked her face while she giggled. He nuzzled my hand, giving Josie a chance to get to her feet.
Josie put a hand on the wolf’s back, studying him. “Do you think we can ride him? We could get back home before it starts raining.”
“It’s worth a shot,” I said.
The wolf held still, and Josie stood on the log to boost herself up onto the wolf. She reached for my hand, but before our fingers intertwined, the wolf took off. He was gone into the forest before I could even scream Josie’s name.
Rain began pouring down, wiping away any trace of the wolf tracks. There was no way I could find Josie now.
Rule number one: never go into the forest alone.
Rule number one: never go into the forest alone.
All of Mama’s rules had been broken, and I’d lost Josie. The forest felt a lot scarier at night with no one to lean on.
I would have to find my own way home.
The rain came down so fast that the clearing began to feel like an ocean. It covered my feet first, quickly rising to my knees, stomach, and shoulders. It chilled me to the bone. I didn’t move. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t find a way to move on.
The water rushed around me, and my head dipped underwater. I came up gasping for air before being pulled under again. I couldn’t swim, and I kept drowning no matter how hard I tried to stay up.
Then I remembered.
Last summer, Josie taught me how to float. It took a couple of tries, but then I rested on my back. The water slowed, and I was able to find a second of peace. I could forget I was alone and focused on a way out.
I looked for the burnt house sticking out of the water, hoping to find something to cling to, but the house had disappeared.
I stayed floating on the water, sure that soon I would lose strength and drown. The rain hit my face, leaving me nearly blind.
After what felt like hours, I floated under the cover of a tree and was able to catch a glimpse of the shore. Hopeful at last, I pushed myself toward the shore.
I was on the wrong side. The path home was on the top of the hill, and this side of the clearing was even further down. There was no getting back across, so I headed into the trees.
If I could only get out of the forest, I could ask for directions and find my way home. Josie was surely home by now. I wondered if she thought of me as she curled up in the warmth of her bed.
The woods felt endless. A constant repetition of trees, rocks, and mud. The rain soaked me so thoroughly it felt like I was carrying around a ten-pound weight. The darkness was thick, calling me to sleep.
I tripped on a rock and fell, mud splattering over all of me. I sat there in the muck, rain crashing over me, wondering if I even wanted to go on.
Then through the trees I caught a glimpse of a red light, then a blue light. I got to my feet and let the lights guide me.
The thunder faded into the distance as I stepped out of the trees and back into the real world. The rain stopped the moment the trees were behind me, and when I looked down my clothes were dry. I knew how to get home, just over the hill. There was a commotion in the street and people clustered together in nervous circles. In the flashing blue and red lights, I found the person I had been searching for.
“Mama!” I ran up and wrapped my arms around her.
Mama looked down at me with relief. “Are you okay? You know not to go in the forest anymore.” She almost looked older than when I had last seen her.
“What happened? Where’s Josie?” I looked around, expecting to see her at any moment.
Mama shook her head, looking annoyed. “Not here, Eva.”
The man in the thick black coat and red hard hat that my mother had been talking to moved back into the conversation. “Do you have another daughter? Was she home when the fire started?”
“No…” Mama looked conflicted, glancing back at me and lowering her voice. “My daughter died last spring.”
“Ah.” The man looked at me with wide eyes, confused. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I saw Josie just an hour ago.” “We’ll talk about this later.”
“NO!” I screamed, taking a step back. Perhaps this wasn’t Mama at all, but some spirit meant to trick me.
Except I saw flashes of how that night last fall really ended.
Josie followed me into the forest, to our clearing. That much was the same.
But…
There was no storm. No flood. No wolf.
With each vision of the past, a searing headache throbbed in my temple.
“Let’s play explorers.” Josie said, climbing to the top of the pile of rubble.
It was something we had done hundreds of times before.
I paused for a moment to tie my shoes, or I would have been right up there with her.
The burnt and rotted wood let go, collapsing underneath her.
I heard the thud when she hit the ground, her neck at an angle that shouldn’t have been possible.
In that moment my sister became a body.
My anguished scream pierced the woods.
Mama’s sobs shook the ground when she finally found us in the morning.
The year that followed was rocky. I swam in my grief, but no matter how hard I tried, I kept getting pulled under.
It was different than when Dad died. He’d been gone for so long it didn’t feel as horrible, at least for me. Josie was my world.
Except none of that could be real, could it? I left the forest only moments ago. A year hasn’t passed. Josie was still in the forest, riding the wolf. She would come home to us. She would come home to me. She had to.
I fell to my knees, sobbing. Mama knelt beside me, putting an arm on my back, glancing nervously at the crowd, gathering around us.
Conflicting memories twisted in my head, hiding the truth. “I don’t understand.”
Mama drooped, leaning against me as if she felt the weight of everything I was feeling too. “I know you don’t, honey. That’s why this is so hard.”
She let me sob into her dress until the crowd had dispersed, and I felt a few tears of her own hit my neck.
At long last I sniffled and looked up at her. “Will you take me home?”
Mama took a sharp breath. “Oh baby….” She pointed to the top of the hill, where thick smoke covered everything from sight.
I ran to the top of the hill as fast as my legs could carry me.
More men sprayed water at the house.
“It’s going down!” One of them called. “Everyone get back!”
Mama caught up and pulled me away, just as the house began to collapse. She let out a choked sob. It vaguely occurred to me that we had nowhere to go.
“What happened to it?” I asked.
“I was out looking for you,” Mama said. “I forgot to blow out the candle.”
The heat of the fire reached me. The smoke blew towards us and I choked. Everyone was covered in soot and talking too loudly.
The burnt pieces sat in a pile on the ground, dust blowing into the air. The house would stay rubble.
Mama was going to lose her job. Maybe she already had. Either way, we had no way to fix damage this severe. The house would sit, left alone. Grass and daisies would grow through the cracks. The smell of smoke would drift away.
Perhaps, in time, these charred remains would be found by two young sisters to use as an escape from the difficult world. As we leave, the trees will grow around it, and the forest will hide and protect.
Josie was in the forest. I could find her again if only I could wait. This house was ours, as the last had been.
“I must go talk to the firemen some more. I want to know if anything can be salvaged,” Mama said. “Stay close, okay? Don’t go back into the forest.”
But I knew nothing could be salvaged.
It was a perfect image of our past.
Of our future.
We were already in the forest.
And we would never leave. ◆
Hannah Schadler is a junior at University of the Cumberlands majoring in English and Communications. When not at school, she lives in Lexington, Ky. She has won several awards from the Scholastic Young Writers Association and KET.
Pensworth 