Woods and their secrets.
It's amazing what happens in the woods. A forest can change everything. I found that out while on holiday, in the forest in Penrith, not too far from home, only an hour away. But that's another story I won't get into today. You become a different person once you step into the trees. Your worries melt away, you become free. Truly free. You meet people too. I'd never considered what could happen until I met him.
Stepping out of the lodge I look round carefully. I really really don't want to be noticed. Because then I'll be asked why I'm out at 2 in the morning. Simple answer, I need space. I can't cope with my family arguing, I just can't. Too many disagreements, which make my head pound and my ears bleed. Seeing the coast is clear I walk with quick nervous steps towards the wood. Torch in hand I walk always on the edge of a run. Over the years I've learned the value of constantly being on the faster side on walking. The pine's bark is hard and prickly under my fingertips. Like my family. Going further in the branches block out the moonlight, and out comes the torch. If these trees can block out the sun and moon they should be able to block out my family arguments. Mist brushes over my face, cool and refreshing on my burning skin. Burning, because of the words flying round my holiday home, the actions and reactions that speak so much. My fair hair is damp, handing loosely round my face. Pale skin reflects in the faint torch-light. Faint sounds of my feet snapping twigs and brushing against ferns sooth me. Nature won't hurt me.
The clearing is cool, colder than the rest of the forest. A light breeze has started, chilling my hands and face. The moonlight is allowed through here, bathing the space is silver. Cold, harsh silver. I click the torch off and sit on the cold hard earth. It's calm here, despite the unforgiving weather. I can almost pretend that my family isn't falling apart, that once I get back home I will go into a care home. Almost. But not quite, I can still hear the insult ringing in my ears. It's not worth this. Not worth the sleep-less nights, the years of crying myself to sleep, the months of social services asking me why I flinched every time a voice was raised. No, it's not worth that. The strange thing is that I don't want them to get back together; I know that will never happen. I just want them to stop fighting, stop bringing me into it. I'm not some kind of bargaining ploy, I'm their child, their only kid and daughter. And I will never see either of them again if they both have their way. A branch snaps behind me. Footsteps on pine needles. Freezing, praying it isn't my parents I fight every instinct to turn round, face what could be an enemy. Keeping my gaze firmly on the pine tree in front of me I slide down a little, so I'm almost lying down. Just one set of feet, one person. No calling out, no loud angry voices; so it can't be my parents.
"Good it's empty. God. That was horrible; I really can't deal with them today. Nothing new there then. Lord I just wish they'd shut up, I get we're brothers, I get we are supposed to fight now and again. But not this often, it isn't right. I like this wood. And now I'm talking to myself, great. Good thing no-one is here to hear it."
Oh, this is bad. Really bad, as in the worst it could be without my parents storming in accusing this guy of raping me or something. Come to think of it, they probably wouldn't notice I was here, that's how observant they are. Right, how do I get out of this? The only way I feel like right now: by telling this poor lad I'm here.
"Err, actually." I feel his awkwardness, poor thing.
"Oh, hi. Where are you?"
In answer I sit up, brushing the undergrowth and leaves from my hair and clothes. His is standing behind me, so I can't see his face and he can't see mine. Slowly I turn, and see a dark haired boy with large expressive deep brown eyes and a wide mouth that seems to smile without him realising it. Taller than me, but he looks older than me too. Feeling his eyes appraising me I suddenly feel stupid. I'm sitting on almost frozen ground in trackie bottoms and a really old too big t-shirt. At 2 in the morning. But then it hits me, so is he. Almost exactly the same type of clothes. So I shouldn't feel awkward and uncomfortable. Shouldn't being the key word. But I do, it's an uncontrollable reaction to meeting a really good looking guy dressed in you pj's. So don't blame me for my body's instincts. He really is very very…………. beautiful. Never thought to use that term to describe a man before, but he is, there's something about him that hints to femininity but somehow manages to stay masculine. It's extremely strange.
"Hi, I'm Joe. Who are you and why are you sitting here? If you don't mind me asking."
I'm not used to people ask me about myself, well people my age anyway. Social workers ask all the time. But that's mainly about who I want to live with after my parents divorce not about me, or how I feel or what I want to happen. It's a strange experience.
"My name is Maria. I live near here. Ish. I'm sitting in the middle of a wood at 2, sorry 2:30, in the morning because I needed to go somewhere where I couldn't hear my parents argue and yell at each other. You?" His face is a picture of emotions, sadness, pity, pain, wonder and a hint of conflict.
"Oh. Sorry, it that really the time? Wow, never been up this early. I'm here because I can't stand sharing a cabin with my family for another second. And this wood is intriguing don't you think?"
A genuine smile is on my face now. Feels strange, smiling, haven't done this for a while. And he's right; this wood has something magical about it.
"Well little darling am I gonna get an answer?"
His American accent becomes more pronounced when he's smiling. It's quite sweet really. Adorable. More smiles, he even makes me laugh slightly.
"'Little darling'? What are you, a gap tooth yokel? Seriously."
He laughs; delighted, it seems, to have made this grumpy sarky British girl smile. Moving forward he sits opposite me, leaning in slightly. This simple gesture shouldn't be enough to make my smile grow but it is. Very bizarre but true.
"Now what do you have against 'gap tooth yokels' huh?"
His tone is light and teasing, eyes dancing, glinting in the moonlight. Like he enjoys teasing total strangers. Weird kid.
"Nothing. But you aren't one, I can tell. So where are you from?"
We're both smiling, ignoring the chill settling into our bones. It's good to talk to someone, someone who isn't asking me the same questions over and over again. He seems to be thinking something along those lines too.
"New Jersey, it's really pretty, very green. Not as green as here though."
"It rains here every day. Almost. That's why it's so green, a lot of rain and cold. But its home, I don't know anything different. Were you born in New Jersey?"
His laughter is soft and genuine.
"No I was born in Dallas Texas, I've moved a lot 'cause my dad is a pastor. We think that NJ is a stable job this time. I like it here. The people have funny accents. You don't. Never would have thought you were a Northerner. So, you got any brothers or sisters?"
"No, only child. And it's very unlikely that that's gonna change. My parents are in the middle of a messy divorce and when I leave in 4 days I'm going into care."
His face falls, the smile fading quickly, making me regret my words.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to"
"It's fine. I have got to accept it some day. How long are you here for?"
"We leave at the end of this week."
"Before me then, Joe?"
"Yes Maria?"
"Can I meet your family?"
ooooooooooooh, hi. I was on holiday and this is what I did. sad huh? another ep? review please!!!!