Memory Lane

It was cold.

"Hello?"

And quiet. Very quiet.

Shrek looked back as the bright sunlight from the outside disappeared. The vines and branches entwined back together and sealed the island shut, with him inside of it. Gulping, he turned back to the path he stood on. Without the sun it was eerily dark, though the white dirt path almost seemed to glow, standing out from the vast forest that surrounded it. He took a breath and began his journey. It took more than a bit of darkness and a chill in the air to scare him, much more than that, he assured himself nothing would be able to surprise him. Except, the air was completely still, like nothing he'd ever experienced. It felt like he'd just walked into an empty, closed off room that had been left that way for years. All he could hear was his own footsteps and breathing, and of course his heartbeat, which had grown quite loud in the short space of time he had been there. Clearly there was nothing living on the island, aside from the abundance of plants, and it just made everything seem creepy, even he had to admit it. He shook his head and quickened his pace. He had to remind himself that he was on a mission! There was apparently a witch here who had taken his kids. The sooner he found them, the sooner he could leave. And perhaps he could catch them before anything really awful happened, if that hadn't happened already of course.

Looking around, Shrek wasn't comfortable with how much he didn't know. He didn't know where he was, nor where to go. He had no idea if his children were even alive. He hoped they were, he hoped so much. He didn't even let himself dwell on what would happen if they weren't. Losing a little confidence he looked back, everything was exactly the same, he couldn't even tell how far he had walked already. As he turned to continue on his way, Shrek then noticed there were letters carved onto some of the trees beside him. Some right next to him, some slightly further away. It took a while before he realised they spelt out words. He paused, taking a step back, "Memory Lane?" he read out loud, questioning what it meant. He looked around him, there were no other letters or words to be found, just those. He moved closer to a tree with a letter O carved into it, it was almost on the path. But as he touched it, he noticed the scratches, they were very light, it wasn't an animal, which meant it was a person. Shrek staggered away from it, eyes wide. He looked about the place, there didn't seem to be anything that would make someone start scratching at a tree with their fingernails. Perhaps something worse had led that person to the island... But what could be worse than losing your children? Shrek shook his head once again, trying to rid the worries and the creeping fear that seemed to be involuntarily crawling up his spine.

He continued walking, faster this time. But something seemed different, he could smell something. It smelled almost familiar. He didn't let himself slow down, figuring it was nothing. But, it smelled like a swamp... That seemed too strange to be a coincidence. Shrek questioned that perhaps it was just him, with the still air and all the nothing-ness around him, he supposed it would make sense. Breaking out of his slight daze, the ogre felt a rush of cold sweep over him. He shuddered looking down, there was a thick mist crawling around his ankles. Shrek increased his gait, turning into a run, though the mist only seemed to follow him. As the mist grew thicker around him, he felt himself slowly turning numb. The ogre slowed quickly, not wanting to trip over himself as the black spots danced across his vision. The smell seemed to be getting stronger, he could even hear far off birds chirping. Shrek wobbled and fell to his knees. His heartbeat was loud in his ears and he could feel the panic take over him. The mist seemed to climb higher around him until he was almost engulfed in it. A ringing in his ears grew louder until he had no choice but to gently lower himself to the ground before he fell with lost consciousness. But his horizontal position didn't help, it only made his eyes heavier. There was no more fighting the ogre could do as he felt himself slowly drift to sleep.


Shrek awoke, but he was standing. It was a strange sensation that almost made him lose his balance. Catching himself, the ogre became aware of his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of a patch of swampland, there was a giant tree casting more darkness than the dimming sky. Shrek picked his way across the land, until he stood outside of a house. It was built into a side of a large hill, a chimney poking above the surface, smoke was seeping out of it which meant people were there. He knew a house like this in the middle of swampland meant these people were definitely ogres. But who they were, he had no idea. He surveyed the place, it seemed eerily familiar, but his head felt too foggy to remember. His memories seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn't place them. Shrek knew it must have been some kind of witch craft, he would have remembered a place like this. At this point anything was possible.

"Hey!" he knocked loudly on the door, there was no response. He knocked again, louder, "I know yer in there!" he waited again, nothing. "Look, I dunno why I'm here but I am, so open the door!" The ogre's ears pricked up as he heard muffled voices from inside, but no one seemed to approach the door. They were ignoring him. He felt himself instinctively reach for the door handle. Wait. Shrek hesitated, he wasn't that desperate. If they didn't want to show themselves then perhaps he didn't want to see them. He could wander for a bit more, maybe find someone else. But as he tried to pull his hand away it seemed to freeze. He practically lost control of himself for a moment as he felt his hand pull open the door against his will. Shrek sucked in a breath and followed wherever this magic wanted him to go.

He found himself in a hallway, thick branches were stood from ground to ceiling, he guessed they were holding the house upright. There were candles lining the walls and an uneven, stained rug ran all the way into an open room where the hallway ended. There were a couple uneven doors either side but his legs pushed him past them. He heard the voices but for some reason he couldn't hear what they were saying despite being so close. The feeling made him cringe. The sudden smell of rotting fish filled his nostrils, clearly it was dinner time for whoever owned the home he was invading. Judging by the smell it was something he would prepare for his family back in his home, the foul odour would typically bring him delight, but here it only seemed to make his gut ache. He tried to swallow down how anxious he felt as he came to a halt.

"Here we are."

The voice made him flinch, he was suddenly able to hear with clarity. He took a breath as he realised someone was about to walk past where he stood. The panic began to fill his body, they'd see him. But as he saw who stood in the open room the recognition hit him, "Mom?" he gasped.

He stood, mouth agape as the plump ogress walked straight past him, she held the tray of food in her apron covered hands. It wasn't right, nothing was right. She still wore that dress she always used to, it was brown with various patches, with the darker apron tied around her waist, her thin hair curling wildly around her shoulders. Everything was exactly the same as he remembered. Which couldn't be right... For one, things definitely wouldn't be the same, and two... Shrek's thoughts were brought to an abrupt end as he heard another voice, a child's voice. His brow knitted in confusion, he stepped into the room and immediately felt sick. He was standing in front of a family, his family, his childhood family. His eyes locked onto the youngest member, him. There he was, a small child, a few years older than his own children, swinging his legs at the dinner table. Shrek still remembered the rough burlap jacket that he was wearing.

The family didn't notice him stood there watching. Of course they didn't.

He struggled to breathe a little as he realised what was going on. Memory Lane. Whatever that place was, it had sent him here. Whoever had carved those letters into those trees had done so as a warning. Clearly it was unavoidable, judging by the nail marks and his current situation. Once the shock faded, the anger then set in. Whoever was doing this to him had his kids, and he was wasting precious time being wherever he was in the past. Though, this was more than just something to waste his time. No, this was something to make him want to turn around. Something to make him give up. Not that he would, he was sure about that.

Shrek looked around but his feet wouldn't let him move anywhere. He tried hard in one direction, but his muscles wouldn't follow instruction. He tried in another, only getting the same result. His eyes swept the room over. There was no button, or spot that seemed out of place. Nothing to indicate a way back at all. Setting a scowl on his face, the ogre temporarily gave up. His feet had unwillingly brought him to that place, perhaps they'd take in somewhere else where there would be an opportunity to grasp hold of.

"So, Bulven, what'd ye bring back from ya wanderings today?" his mother hushed her children, involuntarily hushing Shrek's own thoughts too. Both him and his sister looked up to their father. Shrek set his mouth in a firm line as his father spoke.

"The rain didn't help, I had t' go all the way out near the humans, didn't manage t' catch a glimpse of 'em though."

His mother laughed, "Well, it's more well an' good that they didn't catch a glimpse of you! Don't want a bunch of humans wreckin' our land here."

"We'd just scare 'em away!"

Shrek's face softened as he looked at his older sister. It had been so many years since he'd seen her. Probably a few since he'd even thought of her. Unfortunately she was categorised in the past, in the same box as his father, a box he wasn't fond of opening.

"Not as simple as that really. Humans, they're a persistent bunch. Always thinkin' they're braver than the rest," his mother explained.

"Persistent? Ha, Mirele, hardly," his father shook his head. "Parasites, that's what they are, Yera," he addressed his daughter, "Once ya get 'em once, ye've got 'em forever."

His mother nodded along with him. Shrek wondered what they'd think of his own wife and children. It was probably a good job they weren't around.

"We'd scare 'em off, we would!" Shrek watched his former self enthusiastically chime in.

He instinctively watched his father's face drop, "Ye see, ye'd actually need ta be scary fer that," he mumbled.

"Bulven," his mother quietly chastised him.

Shrek looked down, the box from deep within his memories opening, he remembered many comments from his father, all the same. He never really knew exactly why he was such a disappointment to his father. He'd given up trying to figure it out long ago.

"What'd ye bring back then, ye've kept us waitin'," his mother tried to reign the conversation back to its intended place, she often had to do that.

"Bunch'a rats, found a whole nest of 'em. It'll keep us good fer a while. The usual growths around the place. Found some big animal roamin', couldn't quite see what it was. Almost got the thing but a squirrel scared it away, stupid thing."

"A squirrel?" his sister spoke up again.

"Aye, a squirrel, caught it fer ya too," his father managed to muster a smile at her. She was just about the only thing he could smile at, "Ya mom can stuff the thing."

The family lapsed into eventual silence before his mother asked with some trepidation, "What about Shrek?"

"Oh. Nah, nothin'."

"That's okay," his sister leaned closer to him, "We can share."

Shrek sucked in a breath as he suddenly realised which exact day he had been brought to. He tried to back away but his feet wouldn't let him shuffle more than a couple of steps. The ogre wanted to run, run far from there. But he couldn't. He realised he'd be there for a while more, the next couple of hours were what changed his life forever. It certainly explained whoever was desperate enough to start clawing at a tree.

Shrek watched his younger self smile at his sister, "Yeah!" They both giggled together.

Bulven put the eating utensils he held back onto the table with a thud. His mother had been smiling at them, but now even she was watching her husband apprehensively. He put his hands on the table, as if he was about to stand. Shrek couldn't see from where he stood, but he remembered clearly how his sister clutched onto his hand under the table.

"...no," his mother almost breathed at his father.

With a side glance to his wife, Bulven clenched his jaw, setting his hard gaze on his son, "Get out."

The child jumped out of his seat, his sister still clutching his hand and they both ran from the room.

"No, Yera, not you," his father called at her, "get back here."

"No!"

"Now, Yera!" he stood from the table suddenly.

The door slammed closed, both children gone. Shrek expected for his body to take after himself, but he stayed rooted to the spot. He watched his mother fold her arms and glare at his father. "Well done, Bulven, now ye've ruined dinner."

He shook his head at her, ignoring her statement and gestured to where they left, "Even she says no t' me. He won't do anything, he'll never survive." His father didn't sound remorseful in his words at all.

"That's because ya terrorise the poor kid every day!" Mirele rose from her chair.

"He's an ogre."

"Yah, we terrorise humans and the like, not our own children," she sighed resoundingly, "Ye've gotta stay firm but give 'em room to rebel. Ye know this!"

"I do..."

"No, ye don't. He's terrified of the consequences he'll get from you. Yera's even becomin' the same way. Look at what yer doin' t' them..." there was silence, "He's a child Bulvan, what do you want from him?"

"I wanted a son, Mirele!"

"He is yer son!"

"Hardly."

Shrek almost felt numb to the argument that continued in front of him. Sure, he could ignore all the prejudiced comments he had gained over the years living independently, that was easy. But this was something that took years to build up. How long Shrek had taken everything his father said personally, agonised over it, believed it. Until one day, he just didn't. He stopped listening and eventually left. He probably turned into just the ogre his dad wanted him to be. He frowned at his father. He was glad his dad never saw any of it, it would only give him reason to think what he did was right.

The ogre then felt his rigid muscles relax, a little confused, Shrek attempted to walk freely and his body allowed him. He headed straight for the door. He didn't want to stay any longer, definitely not. Not with knowing what was going to happen next. But as he pulled on the door handle, it wouldn't budge; not even against all of his might. Shrek sighed resoundingly. He turned, the argument was still going on in the kitchen area. The ogre slumped against the wall of he and his sister's room and sat. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. He felt exhausted. He had spent so many years boxing all of these memories up and avoiding them altogether. He'd gotten really good at it too. All for this to happen.

His ears suddenly pricked up as he heard his own voice become clearer, "Yera, do you really like me?"

"Aye, of course I do," there was a small muffled laugh, "Except when yer so stupid an' ask questions like that!"

"Dad doesn't think I'm a good ogre, does he?"

"Don't tell him, but I think dad's stupid, I think mom does too."

"He keeps sayin'..."

"Shrek, shut up about that. Don't listen t' what anyone says t' ye, okay? Dad can say whatever he wants. But you're you, an' I like that. Just trust who you are, Shrek, okay?" He listened to the words that he had to tell himself over and over and over. It was those words he'd teach his own children when they could understand.

"I dunno..."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Fine."


Shrek sat against the wall in that hallway for what felt like hours. He listened to silence, arguing and small muffled voices, but didn't want to hear any of it. As the time went on, he found himself growing more and more anxious about what he knew was going to happen. In his memories everything had happened a lot faster, his mind seemed to miss out this excruciating period of time in between the two events. He tried not to think about anything. Everything seemed so dangerous to him. He couldn't think about where he was, it was too confusing, too raw right now. He couldn't think about his children, he didn't even know if they were alive or what was happening to them. He couldn't think about his wife, he didn't even know how to face her after all of this. Shrek fought to stay numb but it was proving more and more difficult. Instead, he found himself slowly slipping back to the previous despair he had barely gotten himself out of.

Finally, the door to his parent's bedroom flew open after their argument had become particularly heated. Despite waiting for so long, it made the ogre jump. Shrek scrambled quickly to his feet and reluctantly peered into the doorway as his father entered his childhood bedroom, where himself and his sister had blown the candle out and were trying to sleep.

"Bulven? What'ya doin'?" his mother then appeared in the hallway beside him. It was odd with her standing right next to him, knowing she had no idea he was there. "Leave 'em alone... Bulvan?"

Shrek stared intensely at the ground as he listened to the muffled voices turn to shrieks and cries. His mother dove into the children's room to join the fuss but it wasn't long before the entire family left the room. The group led by his father, carrying himself under his arm. Shrek remembered his tight grip, the way he squirmed to get out of it only resulting in further restriction. He remembered how his mother shouted for his sister to stay inside, but how she didn't listen. He remembered hearing them both calling for him as his father raced ahead. He remembered his mother begin to cry, he'd never heard her cry before. He remembered the field, the dark field with the lit torches in the distance. The field Shrek now found himself standing at the edge of. He could barely see what was going on as it was so far away from him, but he didn't need to. He remembered exactly how it felt when he landed on the ground in the tall grass. And the humans, what they looked like, what they sounded like. He remembered running, running faster than he'd ever run before, too young to really intimidate them. He remembered them almost catching up. He remembered his mother jumping out, distracting them. But they were too caught up in the moment, in their own false sense of bravery, they knew she was a mother protecting her child, it made her seem less of a monster, and too desperate.

He remembered watching it all happen. It happened all over again. He remembered seeing his sister and how warm it felt when she held him in her arms. He remembered not being able to breathe when she pulled him away.

Most of all, Shrek remembered what life was like without his mother from then on. He remembered that more than he remembered life with her, he just knew that it was worse, far worse.

This time, he just felt numb.

Shrek awoke suddenly, flinging himself upright. He took gulps of air as he found himself struggling to breathe steadily. He frantically looked around, he was back where he had fallen however long ago that was. The very same dark place and looming trees greeted him. He turned his head back, back down the path he had already walked, and for a second, just a second, he considered turning around.