As I staggered to my feet, my head was spinning. Looking around, I had no idea where I was. All I could see was flat, grassy land. Far, far off in the distance, I thought I saw a tree line. That had to be home, my forest. I wondered how I had gotten so far away, but I brushed the thought aside as I pulled up my hood to protect my face from the sun and began walking. As I walked, I started humming to myself the little song that Mother had made for me when I was younger, and we would ride our horses to Grandmother’s house.

“Over the river and through the woods

To Grandmother’s house we go.

The horse knows the way

To carry the sleigh

Through the wide and drifting snow!”

I loved horseback riding. Remembering that fond memory made my heart ache a little. We’d been forced to sell Brownie and Patches after Papa died. We couldn’t afford to feed them anymore. I still wore the red riding hood Grandmother had made me with pride. My dream was to own a horse of my own someday, when I was all grown up. I wore it so much that people had started to call me “Red.”

After what felt like forever, I was finally at the edge of the woods. I smiled at the familiarity I felt. Leaning against the side of an oak, I took in a deep breath. The wonderful mingled scents of pine, honeysuckle, and fresh wood delighted my senses. I was home.

But now, I needed to find Mother’s house. I knew she’d be worried sick if I weren’t home in time for supper. As I plodded through the trees, the sky grew dimmer and dimmer .My stomach began to growl, and Mother’s sweet face appeared in my mind. “I’m sorry, Mama,” I whispered to no one. “I’m coming home as fast as I can.”

The trees parted, and a flowery meadow appeared. There was a group of deer along the edge, and I stopped moving so that I could watch them graze. My mother and I would watch them often from our window. It was almost as if we ate our meals together with the deer, as if we had a sort of camaraderie between ourselves.

Suddenly, the trees shook with a bone-rattling “**BOOM**!” that made the birds and deer flee—all but one doe that had fallen and lay motionless on the ground. When I ran up to it, I felt like throwing up. Blood was gushing from a hole in the doe’s side.

A new sound, a barking sound, made me turn. Then I saw what was barking—a wolf! No—it couldn’t be! Aaron, the woodcutter had led a group of villagers through the forest, and they had killed every last one. Yet, though I knew it couldn’t be true, there it was, running straight toward me! I screamed in terror and ran back toward the woods. The woods meant safety. The trees were my home. At the very edge of the meadow, I tripped on my hood and fell flat on the ground. Terrified, I huddled up in a ball, trying to protect myself, though I knew I was dead.

I felt the wolf’s warm, wet tongue begin to lick the exposed parts of my face and hands, and it’s hot, stinky breath made me gag. I sat up to wipe my face—and there it was, standing right beside me with its tongue hanging out.

“Raptor!” A gruff voice called. “Raptor, leave the young’un alone. Com’ere, girl.” And just like that, the wolf padded off and sat beside the feet of an older man. He reminded me of Aaron in a way. “Hey, there, li’l missy,” he said as he held out his hand. “What’cha doin’ all the way out here on yer lonesome?”

I took his hand, and he helped me to my feet. “I-I don’t know. I think I’m lost. Do you know which way the Dawdling River is?”

“Hm,” he murmured, scratching his head. “Caint say that I do. So sorry, missy.” I hung my head low. I must have gotten lost deep in the woods, somewhere so far from home that this man had never heard of the river that bordered my house.

“Say, it’s gettin’ late. You can stay with me tonight, an’ I reckon I can help you figger out where yer home is in the morning’. Ther’ ain’t many people round these parts, so, it shouldn’t be too hard to find yer folks.”

“Yes! Thank you!” My stomach growled in agreement, and I flushed in embarrassment.

But he just chuckled, “I reckon I’d better get you somethin’ ta eat.” He walked over to the doe and picked it up, carrying the weight of it on one shoulder. He nodded for me to follow him, and we set off into the nighttime forest.

I saw that the wolf was still walking beside the man peaceably. I couldn’t believe it! He must have some kind of powerful magic if he could control such a vicious beast. The memories of that terrible day flickered in my mind, making me shudder. “How do you get that wolf to obey you?” I was half afraid of his answer, but I had to know.

“Ya mean Raptor?” he asked. “Well, I reckon it’s cuz I raised ‘er from a pup. Taught her everything she knows, and now she don’t leave my side. She’s a good ‘un. Ain’t ya, girl?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! “So, you didn’t use any magic?”

“Magic?” He guffawed. “I don’t got no magic. It’s just me, Raptor, and the ol’ shotgun.” He patted the stick in his hand as he said that, which I guess must have been a “shotgun.”

“Ah, here we are. Home sweet home.” He gestured to a crudely-fashioned cabin made of logs. He took the wolf and clipped a leather ring on her neck to a metal chain that was attached to a stake in the ground. I shuddered, grateful that it wouldn’t be coming with us. “C’mon inside,” he waved.

The inside of his cabin was simple, very much like my own home with mother. On the far left wall was a door, and beside it was a fire place with a long, cloth chair facing it. In the middle of the cabin was a small table with one chair, and at the far right was a kitchen area and a door. He took the doe into that room, and when he came back, he jerked his thumb at a door that was directly across from us. “That ther’ is the bathroom if you need it.” I did need it—badly.

When I came back, he was busying himself in the kitchen. “D’ya like venison?” I didn’t know what venison was, but I nodded anyway. He smiled at me and continued cooking. I went to sit on the long chair in front of the fireplace.

The man must have come to a stopping point in his meal preparation because he came to sit beside me. “Say, I don’t think I ever asked ya’ whatcher name is, li’l missy. Mah name is Thomas, but most folks call me Tom.”

There was a sincere gleam in his gray eyes that helped me to relax. “My name is Rochelle, but most people call me Red.”

Tom chuckled, “I reckon they call you that cuz of the hood ya got on?”

When I nodded, he murmured, “Almost sounds like the story a’ li’l Red Ridin’ Hood.”

I froze. “What story?”

“Ain’t ya herd of it?” When I shook my head he explained, “It’s a popular story fer the young’uns. One I herd myself when I was younger. It’s ‘bout a li’l girl who lived in the woods with her ma and gran’ma, just not in the same house, ya see? Her grandma made a red ridin’ hood for her granddaughter, and she wore it so much that folks started callin’ her li’l red ridin’ hood.” My heart was racing. It felt like this man was telling _my_ story, and not some story from a book.

“One day, gran’ma caught a cold, an’ Li’l Red’s ma made ‘er sum cookies. She told’er to go straight ther’ an’ not to stop fer nothin’. Well, Li’l Red fergot wut’er mother sed, an’ when she saw sum perty flowers growin’, she stopped to pick sum. She reckoned she could give ‘em to her granny. An’ while she’s pickin’ them flowers, ya know who shows up?”

Trembling, I asked, “Was it a wolf?”

“Yeah! A big, bad ‘un. He asked ‘er where she was goin’, an’ then he took a shortcut to get to granny’s house before ‘er. When’e got to’er house, ‘e gobbled up granny whole an’ put on ‘er clothes. He planned on eatin’ Li’l Red, too.

“Sho’ nuf, she comes up to granny’s house an’ knocks on the door. The wolf is pretendin’ to be granny an’ says ta come in with an ol’ lady’s voice. She says to ‘im, ‘Gran’ma, ya got sum big ears.’ ‘E says, ‘Makes it easier ta hear ya.’ Then Li’l Red says, ‘Gran’ma, ya got sum big eyes.’ ‘E says, ‘Makes it easier ta see ya.’ Then, the last thing Li’l Red says is, ‘Gran’ma, ya got a big mouth.’ An’ the wolf jumps up and shouts, ‘Makes it easier ta eat ya!’ An’e gobbled ‘er up jus’ like ‘er gran’ma.”

All this time, my fists had been clenched so tight that my knuckles were white, and I could taste blood in my mouth from biting my tongue so hard. This story—was mine! I was terrified, and there were so many questions swirling in my mind that I felt dizzy. I thought I might be sick. “Is that the end?” I asked.

“Naw, see ther’ was a man choppin’ wood nearby, an’ he herd Li’l Red holler. He came inside an’ killed the fat wolf. ‘E used ‘is axe ta cut a hole in the wolf’s belly, an’ pulled out Granny an’ Li’l Red safe an’ sound.”

He reclined in his seat, satisfied with his tale, while I felt anything but relaxed and happy! He got up to go take care of the food, and I was grateful for it because it gave me a chance to process my thoughts. My whole world felt like it was crashing down around me. If all I was in this world was a child’s story… was my entire life a lie? And where was home? Would I ever see my mother again? Or would I be trapped here in this strange world forever? I had no idea how I’d ended up here in the first place, and, now, I had too many questions, but not enough answers.