Dear Diary, 2/15/95

It snowed earlier this afternoon, long after I had left the house for school. Mother bundled me up in layers, which fought off the bitter cold as I went as quickly as I could without slipping on the ice.

At first I thought it was silly, but after hours of schoolwork and we’d had finally got let out, I realized I was the foolish one. Not my mother.

Heavy snowflakes were accompanied by strong winds, which sent chills deep into my bones. It had never been this cold before. I was nearly frozen solid by the time I reached the bridge just before the road.

The sun had begun to set as I stepped foot onto the snowy soil of our property, still a good couple yards from the house. The cold which made the distance seem impossible, and the downpour of snow made the house seem miles away.

I made it to the back door, I thought my fingers were going to break off. But when I opened the door-in the reflection of the back window-I saw a trail of a scarlet substance leading back into the deadwood just behind the house.

Darn my curiosity! I should’ve never staggered back to the woods. I should’ve just gone into the house. Where my bed was, where the warm fireplace was. And where Mother was making hot chocolate.

But I didn’t. No, I went down to the border of the woods, staring down at the driblets dark crimson liquid, which led deep down into the core of the woods. Father said never to go down there. He’d been hurt by a Wolf when he was young. Not much younger than I am.

It was foolish, I knew this. I was practically signing a death-wish. But something deep within me gravitated towards it. Deep into those dark, dead oak trees. Scattered with dead brush and timber.

It’s almost as if the trees engulfed me when I entered. When I turned around I could no longer see the house, or the shadow of mother in the kitchen window. I was cut off by the darkness of the overhanging limbs, which held back the already dim sun and cast me in a grey-foggy view. I was lost. And I hadn’t even walked that far.

I followed the trail. The farther I went the redder and fresher it became. A pit settled in my stomach, and I felt my insides become twisted with dread. What had I done.

Deeper and deeper the trail led me, and every twist and turn became fraught of possibilities. And then it stopped. The trail of what I assumed was blood had abruptly ended. Nothing left behind. No body, no bleeding person. Not a single animal.

It was quiet, eerily quiet. It made my stomach twist and my chest clench. Nothing but howl “whos” and the whistle of the wind was with me.

But then I saw it, deep in the brush. It’s back was towards me, large and furry-though it’s due was dark and matted with mud, now illuminated by the grey glow from between tree limbs. It whipped around and I was frozen in it’s gaze, my heart pounded a thousand beats a minute. It had beady red eyes and a black nose. With a wicked grin it exposed it’s bloody teeth, as large as my fingers, with bits of flesh still tucked between them.

A deep growl bellowed from it’s throat, and it glared at me with an overwhelming intensity. The sight took my breath away. And then-

SLASH!!!

It tore it’s talons right through my bicep in three clean slits. I screamed as blood oozed down my arm and soaked into my three sleeves. When I looked up it was gone.

What was it? Could it’ve been a bear? Where did it go? Mother doesn’t know. I told her I fell and cut myself on a branch.

I don’t know what to do. Could it be watching me? What about Mother and Father? Is it watching them too? I am never going to the woods again, and if I do..

Mother, I love you and I’m sorry. Father, be ready. Something is coming.