This is just a short story I wrote for a school project. It's a little vague, so bear with me if you read it. Thanks for reading though! I hope you enjoy.
….
LOST MY WAY
This world was a dream; he could tell by the fogginess and bleariness around the edges, and the overall shimmering of the hues that reflected the midday sun. There was none of this to be had in the waking realm. To the east, a vast, blue, sparkling ocean lapped at a sand-coated beach. To the west, a jungle stretched out as far as the eye could see. To the boy's left and right, only sand and meadows occurred, sprinkled artificially upon each other like some summer-made golfer's fancy. How strange, he thought, that he should dream of this.
"Salutations." A deep voice greeted flatly. The boy spun, looking for the source, but finding nothing. Only a small rabbit was near him, nibbling on a small flower, staring at the world through glassy pink eyes. His white fur was run through with red streaks on the skin.
"Can I help you?" The rabbit mumbled.
"You talked." The boy pointed out.
"Of course I talked, or haven't you heard of a dream before?" The rabbit shot back, "You should know by now that not everything is as it seems."
The boy crouched down and took a closer look. What a small creature for such a big mouth-and a sharp tongue too.
"I have a question." He offered.
"I might have an answer, though I'll make no guarantees."
"Could I ask, how do I get home from here?"
"Are you willing to travel far from these beaches, my boy?" The rabbit fixed him with its beady eyes, now appearing more red than they were pink. Its mouth never wandered from the flower on which it chewed, making its unnatural speech all the stranger. "If home means that much to you, then there is a fire waiting for you on top of the mountain. Go to it, tend to its flames, and a ship will come and take you home."
"How do I get to this mountain?"
"Go into the woods, as far as you can go, stranger. Until you come to the mountain, then you can probably find your way from there. If you ever get that far."
"Thank you."
"Be on your way."
The boy followed the wayward directions, going through the jungle and its creeping vines. The day of the beach did not exist here. The night seemed to dominate everything, making shadows darker and more looming than need be. Five minutes in, a terrible wailing broke out, like someone was hunting him. The child ran, smacking into trees and whatever else got in his path. Something wrapped itself around his foot, bringing him to the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of him, and he found with a start that this earth was much more solid than he had anticipated. He opened his eyes.
Some creature, indiscernible from the cover of moss and weed growing over it, scrunched its nose at him from the undergrowth. Two black eyes peered from the grotesque mass.
"Are you a beast?" The creature snorted pitifully.
"Why would I be beast?" The boy asked, still on the ground from his tumble, "That's what I'm running from too."
"Of course," It responded, "Then, tell me why you have that weapon in your hands."
"What weapon?" The boy sat up and brought his hands where he could see them. Surprisingly enough, in his left hand, bruised and battered, was a stick painstakingly sharpened at both ends. He examined it curiously. "This is no weapon, just a plaything." He declared aloud.
"Surely." The animal snorted. Slowly, it wriggled free of the leaf litter that had covered it. Now visible, he could tell that this creature was a pig. He could also feel a growling in his stomach. How long had he been here, in these woods specifically?
"I am hungry. Could you tell me where I could find something to eat?" The boy asked plaintively.
"Eat of the flesh." The pig retorted in a squeal, "You have that weapon in your hands! Can't you slay me, savage?"
"I'm no savage, and I cannot slay with this stick." He threw the stick to the ground and stood up, towering over the small pig. It cowered once more, squirming back into its small cover of leaves and filth.
"Then you do not belong here!" It warned, "Go back to that rabbit in the meadow, and stay there! That is where you belong! You will wake up soon enough and only then shall you be a stranger here!"
"I've lost my way to the meadow."
"Just go back, and from there, keep going forward. Be warned, it's not easy going back."
The boy once again turned back for the beach and the meadows. He wondered as he went; such strange wonderings that meant absolutely nothing to him. Was the rabbit or the pig lying? Which way was home? Should he have stayed in the meadow all along, or continued along the crooked jungle path?
What was a savage anyway? Was he a savage?
Just as the hog had warned, the path back to the sun was much more difficult than the path to the dark of the jungle. He tripped many times more along the way, and sometimes he found himself going the wrong way all together. He turned right when he should have gone left, turned left when he should have gone right, and so on. There was really no telling where he was at any certain time. He couldn't help but feel relief when he finally caught sight of the sunbeams breaking through the foliage.
"Psssst."
"Who said that?" He started, looking around wildly. He took another step forward, and located the noise's source. A scraggly tree, covered in shadows sweet as sleep, bearing only blackened leaves and rocks as fruit. The shadows pulsated and squirmed, like a breathing creature, and stared back at him with eyes like rubies. It appeared like a snake.
"Where do I go now?" The boy asked the creature.
There was a brief pause between his questions where nothing else was said. Then: "Never go right, dear child! Yea, that hog's lied to you! Can't you see, didn't you listen to that rabbit? He told you what to do, go to the fire! Turn back, go forward, turn left!" Why should anyone ever go right?"
"The woods scare me." The boy admitted, "The pig says there are beasts in there."
"Aye, but no longer. Still, if truly you are scared then take one of these stones from the tree and swallow it."
"Swallow it?"
"Yea, to crush the butterflies in your belly. And one for the road." The shadow loosened two stones from the otherwise barren branches and flicked them into the child's hands. The boy stared at them in awe. "Now, go back and turn left."
And so, the boy went to the fire as told; through the howling forest with all its beasts and pigs and darkness. He did this until he finally got to the fire on the mountain, reaching up to the sky with its hungry, tasting flames. As he got closer, it blazed outward angrily.
"Hello?"
"Hello. I've been waiting."
The boy looked deeply into the inferno. Just visible inside was the reflection of himself; dark brown hair, green eyes, caked in dirt, wild.
"Come forward, boy." The reflection ordered.
"You are me."
"Yea, and the only beast on this island."
"….."
"You should've gone right." The reflection said, "You let this island trick you. You should have kept in the meadow, you should've gone right. You should gone right."
The boy awoke suddenly and rapidly, gasping for breath. His green eyes fluttered open, and his hands immediately went to his nose. It was still bleeding.
He looked up.
Pig's head on a stick.
Such a silly, silly boy.
Still teetering, Simon got to his feet and started for the mountain in the distance.