CHAPTER 2
Poor Sawyer was now alone in the woods. Only seven years-old he got terrified of the weird noises around him, even the sounds of the wind blowing through the leaves of the trees made him scared. Lost on what to do now he began to run, followed on his heals by the animals from the woods, who did not harm him. They were only curious who this new creature amongst them was.
After hours of running through the woods Sawyer suddenly saw a small house in the distance. Or a cottage, he saw, when he got closer.
Carefully opening the door of the cottage he saw everything inside was small. The table, the chairs, he wondered who was so small that he could live here. He tried to squeeze himself inside, which barely worked out because well the seize of the totempole of course.
Finally managing to get inside in one piece he took a closer look at the interior. His eyes fell on the little table and he saw it was all set as if the persons who lived in here could come crashing in any second to start on their dinner. He saw there were 7 little plates, with 7 little knives, 7 little spoons and 7 little forks. There also stood 7 little cups, ready to be filled with a liquid of some kind. At the side of the room stood 7 little bed, all tight up.
Sawyer, all hungry from the long run ate the food from each plate, before walking towards the beds. The first bed he laid down on was way too small for him. He tried them all and it wasn't until he laid down on the 7th one that he finally lay comfortable. Like that he fell asleep.
When it was dark the rightful owners of the house came back. It were the seven dwarfs, who spend their day digging for gold in the mountains. They walked inside and immediately saw something was not quite right.
The first dwarf said,
"Someone sat on my little chair."
The second said,
"Someone ate from my little plate."
The third said,
"Someone ate my little loaf."
The fourth said,
"Someone used my little fork."
The fifth said,
"Someone used my little spoon."
The sixth said,
"Someone used my little knife."
The seventh said,
"Someone is laying in my little bed. And he's not so little if I may add."
The others came running to the beds and when they saw the child they stood still, astonished. "O goodness, O my", they whispered to each other. "This is... this is... What beautiful child is this?", they asked each other confused over so much greatness.
They were so overcome with the totempole that didn't want to wake Sawyer, but let him sleep in.
In the morning Sawyer woke up. Stretching himself he suddenly saw the seven dwarfs gathered around his bed and he quickly jumped up, almost crashing the bed with the totempole.
He looked frightened as they stared at him, or at his pants more specifically. He looked down and saw nothing out of the ordinary so he shrugged, looking up as one of the dwarfs asked his name.
"It's Sawyer", he mumbled.
"What do you do in our house?", the dwarf continued.
Slowly calming down Sawyer began to tell his story. About the evil Mr. Twinkie XL and the huntsmen. And how he finally ended up in the middle of the woods at their little cottage. The dwarfs felt sorry for Sawyer and told him he could stay with them, that it would be the perfect hide-out for his evil step father if he would ever find out he was still alive.
Sawyer's face lightened up and he nodded, he would love to stay here. So he did. In the morning the dwarfs went to the mountains and Sawyer started on building a wooden home for himself. Because the pole grew and soon it didn't fit in the dwarf's home anymore.
And so time passed. Every morning the dwarfs went to the mountains and Sawyer worked on his house. And when he was finished he cleaned up the dwarf's house. Every day the dwarfs warned Sawyer for the evil Mr. Twinkie XL, for one day he would find out Sawyer was still alive.
Sawyer wasn't allowed to let anyone in the house. And years passed without any living creatures except for the dwarfs and the wild animals passing the little cottage. Until they all finally thought Sawyer and the totempole were safe after all.
To be continued...
