Writing prompt #2

I was 14 when that sweet old woman invited me into that shack of hers. I'm aware this already sounds like a dodgy set-up; so imagine how it felt when I discovered this ramshackled ruin to be sat squarely in the middle of the Eden woods . I didn't really have a choice.

I had gotten myself lost; about an hour ago I went exploring and in my own adventurous frenzy I had found myself in the swirling typhoon of trees and mysterious noises; utterly and hopelessly lost.

So believe or not, I followed this woman into her house, at least that's what I assumed that was what it was, I remember that pungent aroma that lifted off her clothes, a sickly sweet smell, reminiscent of butterscotch with an earthy undertone, that smelled somewhat of moss.

Her tone was soft and somber; soothing; yet some hidden digger masked inside those sweet melodies found itself running down my spine.

I did hesitate before following her into that swallowing darkness, I looked back to consider my options and saw the dying light limping throughout the tree trunks.

With a weighted sigh , my shoulders slumped and I dragged myself into the humble abode.

Again there was that sweet aroma, that stained the very walls and fabric .

In the middle of one wall, a wood fire cackled with glee at the newcomer who had just blindly entered its domain.

The entire time as my eyes scanned meticulously across the furniture, or rather , the lack of furniture which inhabitated the solitary room, the woman croaked on about how unfortunate my situation would, and I'm not sure what it was, but something about her caused a pit in my stomach and dryness to overwhelm my mouth- to the point where I couldn't respond-

I saw a kindness gloss in the corner of her eyes , but it seemed glasses over, and long dead.

It was when she offered me a serving of tea; I finally began to soothe myself. Yet,

The whimpering from beneath the floorboards got ever louder.