Chapter 2: Chapter 1
"Get out! Worthless piece of shit!" Aspen flinched at the sound of her mother's voice. The woman was always screaming at something; usually it was her. Four year old Aspen turned and fled from the sound of her mother yelling. Her mother's voice would attract the attention of her father, who was even worse than her mom. Her mom would abuse her with her words, but her father… he would take it even further.
Aspen ran towards the treeline that bordered their property. She shivered against this cold. They lived in the Winter Territory, so it was almost always cold here. They had a spring and summer, of course, but they were short and didn't get as warm as she heard other territories did. The faint sounds of her mother's voice could be heard in the distance, but she kept pushing further into the trees. Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled over tree roots and rocks. Branches grabbed at her dress, leaving rips.
Aspen pushed through the trees, her brown locks of hair getting snagged on branches as she stumbled further into the forest. Suddenly, her foot hit a rock and Aspen tumbled head over heels down a steep incline. A sob escaped her as she bounced off a rock, landing in a shallow stream at the bottom of the embankment. Shocked, the small child sat in the running water, tears streaming down her face.
Looking around she took in her surroundings. She had stumbled into a small creek. The woods around her were quiet, except for the quiet sounds of nature. A bee hummed from flower to flower nearby, the wind stirring the trees. A quiet sob left her throat as Aspen pushed herself to her feet. She sniffled as she turned in a small circle. Straight ahead of her, on the other side of the creek was an ancient stone wall. Barely two feet high, with parts of it crumbling, the wall looked hundreds of years old.
"Are you okay?"
Aspen shrieked. She spun around, losing her balance and falling down into the water.
"Wh-who's there?" Aspen looked around for the voice she heard. She glanced around frantically until her eyes landed on a small boy, a year or two older than her standing on the other side of the rock wall. He was smaller, with dark hair but what caught her attention was his startling green eyes.
"I saw you fall. You can see me?"The boy looked curious, peering over the edge of the wall.
"Y-yes? Who are you?" Aspen took a hesitant step away from the boy.
"Why are you crying?"
"I asked you first." Aspen wiped the evidence of tears off her face.
"I'm Caden. Why are you crying?" The boy looked unnerved by her tears.
"M-my parents. My mom. She's mean." Aspen shuddered from the cold. She looked around for the sweater she had been wearing but it was nowhere in sight.
"Here." The boy pulled off his jacket and dropped it on the other side of the rock wall. "You're cold."
Aspen hesitated for a moment before shuffling forward out of the creek. She waded up the side and picked up the jacket on the ground in front of her. She wrapped it around herself and suppressed a shiver. "Thank you."
The boy smiled, but remained on the other side of the wall. "Does your mom mean a lot?"
Aspen tensed at the question. She nodded. "Sometimes."
"I live over there," Caden pointed behind him. He looked at her curiously again. "Do you have any friends?"
Aspen shook her head sadly. She tightened the boy's jacket around her small frame.
The boy's face lit up with a bright smile. "I'll be your friend!"
Aspen smiled. "Okay."
The boy cocked his head as if hearing someone call his name. "I have to go. Tomorrow. Come back here. I'll come see you!"
Aspen giggled. "Okay."
With that the boy flashed her a smile before disappearing between the trees. Aspen turned and began to hike up the embankment she had fallen down.
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I woke with a start. My pulse was racing, gasping for air. It took me a second to recognize where I was. I looked around at my dreary bedroom, if it could even be called that. My room was more like a shack, and my shack was about ten square feet of space attached to the back of a barely standing house. There were cracks in the walls that let the cool night air in.
I let out a frustrated sigh. For fourteen years I had been having dreams about the same little boy. I didn't dream, but when I did I always saw the memory of the boy in the woods. I sighed and brushed the hair out of my face. That boy and his face haunted my dreams, and I always woke up with a sense of dread.
I tried to push the dream as far from my mind as I could. The memories of all the times I had searched for him, begged for him flooded into my mind. I had gone back to the creek hundreds of times, searching for Caden but I never found him again. I went back every day for years hoping to see him but I never did. I had searched the woods, calling for him until I had no voice.
After years of searching I concluded he must have been a figment of my imagination; a pretend friend I had created out of my own loneliness. When I was twelve I had gone out searching one last time. I had called his name until my voice was hoarse. I gave up, throwing myself dejectedly on the ground against the stone wall. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed for the only person who had ever been kind to me. That last time I had gone searching had been different though.
I smiled and closed my eyes. This was the one memory I had that was good.
I don't know how long I sat there against the wall sobbing my eyes out when something nudged my leg. I opened my eyes to see a large black wolf. It easily weighed three times my weight. It's black coat was so black it seemed blue in the sunlight. I screamed, scrambling backwards away from the wolf. I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon.
The wolf let out a whine, and bowed his head in submission. I hesitated, and the wolf waited. It didn't move towards me, it just remained where it was, head bowed. I let a shaky breath out, my heart pounding in my ears. My breath was coming in quick gasps, tears continuing to stream down my cheeks. He wouldn't attack me, right? He would have done that already if that was the case.
I reached a trembling hand out towards the dog. "G-good dog?" The wolf tossed his head and gave a low bark, pawing at the ground. I winced, hesitating again. "O-okay then. Good wolf?"
This seemed to please the wolf as he bowed his head at me again and then shifted forward to sniff me. I tried to hold my hand steady as the wolf looked at me with his dark eyes for a moment before he leaned forward to nuzzle my hand.
"Oh!" I laughed delightedly. My fear edged away as the wolf allowed me to pet his head. "You're a handsome guy, now aren't you?" The wolf tossed his head back and howled, tail wagging a mile a minute. I laughed for the first time in years. "You wanna play?"
The wolf jumped up, barking excitedly. I giggled before I stood off and ran off into the forest. The wolf chased after me, darting ahead of me and then circling back to nip at my heels.
After hours of running through the woods playing with the wolf it began to get dark so I began to head home. I started to make my way through the bushes when I heard the wolf whine. I turned around quizzically. "What's wrong, buddy?"
The wolf whined again before trotting after me and rubbing his head against my leg. I laughed and dropped down to my knees. "Do you wanna come with me, handsome?"
The wolf rubbed his head against my arm before standing and walking in front of me. I watched him walk a few steps before pausing and looking behind him. He cocked his head at me as though asking me if I was coming.
I looked down to the mat in front of the door. It was empty tonight, but usually Handsome slept there. I had tried to call the wolf different things over the past six years, but he only ever answered to Handsome. After the day he had followed me home he had alway come back. He was my only companion after my dad died. He would leave in the mornings when I got up, either to follow me around or run through the woods all day. I had tried respecting that he was a wild animal and needed to be free, but eventually he always came back to my door. Sometimes he was gone for days at a time, but he always came back. Needing to go relieve myself, I attempted to sit up. I was trembling slightly as I pushed myself into sitting position on the bed. I steadied myself and pulled my knees to my chest. My head was pounding and I felt dazed. I rubbed my temples, trying to relieve the pressure in my head. Suddenly I felt a blinding pain in my skull, and everything went black.
"Here. Take this."
I stumbled backwards in surprise. The boy from the woods, probably two or three years older than the last time I saw him, stood in front of me offering me a bundle of food. I took in my surroundings. We were back at the creek, standing on opposite sides of the rock wall again. I looked down at the bundle of bread and cheese he was handing me. I glanced up at his face, a shock running through my body. His eyes were as piercing green as I remembered. His dark hair was longer, falling into his eyes slightly. He was taller, but no more than eight or nine years old. He stood on his side of the wall, while I stood on mine. I hesitated to take the food he was offering so he set it on the wall between us.
"Thank you." I opened the bundle eagerly and began to eat.
"Come here tomorrow. I'll bring you more." The boy smiled at me, clearly pleased that I was enjoying the food he brought me.
My eyes opened wide. More food? What he had given me was already more food than my parents bothered to give me for a week.
"Anytime you're hungry, or lonely, come here. I'll be here." The boy reached out as if he was going to touch me, but something stopped him.
"Why are you nice to me?" I looked up at him, trying to speak between my mouthfuls of food.
He shrugged. "You're different."
I made a face. "Different?"
He nodded. "Yeah. You can see me."
I hesitated, taken back by his answer. A wind blew through the trees as I stood there staring at him. He cocked his head again as if listening to a voice in the wind.
"I have to go." And with that he turned, and dashed between the trees.
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I came to laying on the floor of my little shanty shack. The cool night air was blowing through the cracks, and I could see the moonlight pouring through the one tiny window I had. I pushed up onto my elbows wincing. My head was pounding. I looked up at my bed. How did I end up on the floor? I shifted my weight, trying to stand up. What the fuck was that? That vision felt real like my dreams but that wasn't one of my memories. I remember meeting the little boy in the woods when I was young, but I never saw him again. I went back to those woods every day for four years hoping to find the little boy who was nice to me. I never did.
I let out a frustrated sigh. There was no point in over thinking about it. The little boy… Caden… he was most likely a figment of my imagination that my mind had created to protect me from my parents. No matter how real the memory felt.
I climbed back into bed and willed myself to go back to sleep. Dreams and nightmares might plague me, but they were my only companions in my lonely life.
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