George’s mother had told him the tales of the creature in the forest. How when the lumberjacks were logging down the trees, a monstrous noise came from the forest. It made them run away, tripping over branches of the fallen trees they had just cut down and even abandoning their axes. When they returned, they found that their axes were gone and the trees they cut had disappeared. Like a phantom spirit haunting the forest when villagers got too close. Similar stories were circulating around the villages that all shared this common horrifying noise. That’s when the villages unanimously agreed to leave the creature of the forest alone.

George had been told many times. Yet he was curious to see this creature of legends. He told his mother that he was going to play outside. She told him habitually not to go to the forest. He promised but he crossed his fingers behind his back. He took the old dirt trail that had not been walked on by the villages for many years. He reached the opening to the forest where the stumps of tree. He approached the edge and saw that the dense trees created a dark abyss that sunlight failed to penetrate.

George stepped in and he felt a chill ripple down his spine. The lack of sunlight also contributed to the cold feeling. Several paces into the forest, George regrets his decision to find the creature of the forest. A ear-piercing screech startled George as he fell over backwards and knocked his head against a tree.

George blinked his eyes and before him was small hairy bear. George screamed and the bear screamed back. But it didn’t actually scream like a bear. It sounded human. George stopped screaming and so did the little bear. George looked closer and he could see that this bear had a boy’s face. The boy stopped and stared at George with curious, investigative eyes.

“Who are you?” George asked. The boy dressed in bear skin stared bluntly as if he didn’t understand.

“You evil. You come from village and you cut down home.” The bear boy spoke in broken English.

“I’m George. What’s your name?” George persisted.

“Nito.”

“Are you the creature of the forest?”

Nito raised a horn and he blew into it. It screeched horrendously. George shrivelled back and unable to cover his ears because of his restraints.

“Stop!”

Nito’s head turns with curiosity. As if he had deemed George harmless, he untied the restraints and pointed.

“Go. Don’t come back.”

George ran as fast as his little legs could take him and when he told his mother and the village of what he had seen. They laughed and dismissed him as “The Boy Who Cried Boy”.