In a wooded area, Max grabbed his lengthy hair in frustration. He screamed knowing no one would hear him. Anything within arm reach was annihilated or tossed into the brush. The strenuous activity made all of his grievances seem to explode and collide. Nothing mattered, all Max had to do was destroy and his mind could relax for once tonight. At the same time, he was not relaxed in the least. He needed to move around. Sitting here would only make his brain explode.
As a way to let his tiring muscles rest and run away from his creeping thoughts, Max started to push forward in the woods. Before him stray branches would brush roughly across his face, leaving tiny scratches and causing his eyes to water.
"Fuck…" He hissed, but recoiled at the sound of his voice. Max felt slightly stupid and self aware by talking to himself. Coming back into a conscious thought process, Max found he was at a familiar body of water.
In the cloudy night it did not shimmer as brightly as it had previously in his last visit. Rocking back and fourth at the banks was his old boat, with some wear and tear of course, but nearly the same. His name was still scratched on the side crudely, and the mast carried a damaged sail. Knowing what to do, Max climbed aboard, and set sail.
Very smoothly he slid across the water at first, but as he went along he started hitting some resistance. Max held tightly to the rope at the mast and peered over the shoddy portside to see what was fighting him in the water. Astonishingly enough, he revealed there to be guitars and drums floating past. Hitting his ship, drums would let out loud beats and guitars would wail. It was like going through a rock ballad. Overhead, storm clouds assembled in their traditional patterns, and Max braced himself for what he knew to be ahead.
Wind rushed, blowing Max's hair back. Looking toward the oncoming weather, Max squinted as the boat hopped along the increasingly high waves. The rocking of the boat and the intensity of the waves sent the musical instruments at a new grotesque type of wail with each smash of wood and musical tool. Soaring upon one wave, the boat rode alongside its curls like a surfboard at a ninety-degree angle.
"I'm going to die." He thought frantically. "God damn it… I am really going to die."
Impressively the boat rode up the wave as Max clung gallantly for life onto the mast. Having made it over one wave, hit boat only met another, and another after that. It was like some horrific rollercoaster. Under different circumstances, this would be something Max would greatly enjoy. With each new crest Max had to bat away some guitar, triangle, or violin like a fish flopping out of water.
"Ugh..." Grunted Max. He moved to the wheel of the boat in order to gain some control. If he remembered correctly, this whole thing would be ending soon. Fate had something else in store for him however, as only more waves came to him as if only out of spite. At one point on this ever increasingly terrifying travel the boat fell beneath the crest of a wave and was overtaken. Max's outcry was smothered by an onslaught of seawater.
Choking on the waves, Max slipped on the wet deck and hit his head on a bench. The cool air and violent storm were not enough to keep him awake at this point. It seemed the boat would have to take control now. The period of his sleep was just as tumultuous and trivial as his waking Odyssey, for his dreams only carried him to darkness and worries. Instead of relieving him of the fearsome storm of the outside world, he was stuck in the entrapments of his pessimistic mind. In his mind he was home again, unable to find his drugs, unable to find his family, and all that he could find was his pathetic wolf suit, worn from countless trials. Never before had he been so happy to wake.
Upon his waking, he was much displeased to find no relief from the storm.
The waves were still rocketing him to terrifying highs and lows. At this point, a milky fog had set around him, so not only was he being turned around and around on this sickening sea, he was completely blind to where the storm was taking him. Max wondered if his dreams were so awful after all in comparison to this hell he found himself in. This trip had become some kind of purgatory, and here Max was, in the middle of nowhere.
How was he to know if a day had passed or not? The sun and moon could not pierce the thick clouds ensnaring Max. With no outlet for his mind to wander, no book, no computer, no TV, no pot, Max was stuck within the confines of his mind, a place he rarely wished to explore. Guilt and anger among other emotions he had suppressed for so long had wormed their way to the surface in the nothingness. Why did everyone ask so much of him? It was unfair, he was only a kid, and nobody even bothered Mark. Max started to weep, and eventually started to sob, no longer wishing to deal with these feelings.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" He yelled, slamming his fist against the mast. Unfortunately for Max, he had drastically underestimated his strength and overestimated that of the boat. Under the force of his fist, the mast cracked and fell, and the sail no longer caught wind. Beneath the boat Max heard the scraping of instruments. A new fear overtook him, if the boat could not take his beatings, how would it do for the remainder of the storm?
He could not run about in fear, but was trapped at his seat once again with his thoughts. Frantically, Max gathered up the rope from the mast and sail and attempted to tie the ends of wood together, only to see them fall to the floor of the vessel all over again. Sliding down beside it, Max clutched his head in absolute dread. He knew it, and he had predicted the future. Max knew it was his fate to die out here in the nothingness.
Salty tears mixed in with the wet hull of the boat. Max curled into a ball and listened to the instruments rap along the bottom of the vessel, their noises lulling him to sleep. Unlike before however, Max did not allow such an escape to envelop him. Quietly like a mouse he remained awake, listening to the crash of waves and soaring beats. For hours, days, and weeks this must have gone on until finally after an eternity, there was a scrape of the boat hitting the rocky shore. As he had done so eagerly before, Max hopped out of the small vessel into the water, and pulled his boat to safety.
Carefully Max tied his boat down out of the way of the surf, and began a trek along the shore. Treasured memories and terrifying memories alike came to him. He was at his island, where he once reigned, the Island of the Wild Things.
Here Max had ruled, only to fall disgracefully out of power. Would they allow him to rule again? It was night, just like his first day of arrival. Similar to home, the stars were shielded by dull mauve clouds, but he could see the eerie glow of the moon struggling through. Behind him Max saw the fog retreat out to foreign seas.
"Hello?" Bellowed Max, his voice shot through the dark, up the rock walls and down the beach. No reply. Nine years had a lot of give, and although he remembered things quite vividly, Max had some trouble recalling where he had made a home with his Wild Things. So, in the only way he knew how, Max set out down the beach. Some things struck him as familiar, but that was probably only due to the fact that this place had so few recognizably different features. One rock looked like another, one hill had no other traits than the next. Reaching the crest of a sizable hill, Max prepared to call out again, but was interrupted by the sight that lay before him.
"Hel-" He began, but stopped, seeing a singed earth bellow him. His mouth lay agape as he looked upon once golden knee high grass singed brown and black with a few sparing embers glowing in the night. Fearful for his wild friends, Max ran down the hill, not sure what he would find. His mad dash was short lived however, as the hill's incline had run out and Max was anything but an athlete. At a walking pace he was able to truly take in the carnage. The beauty of the land had been lost to perverse fires, in all likelihood started by Carol.
Max frowned, wondering what had sent Carol over the edge on this occasion. Beneath his feet, Max kicked some dirt around to pat down the coals. Oddly enough, some of the embers were glowing green and blue. It was such a strange sight, and something he had yet to see from Carol, and suddenly had made Max quite fearful. Who could have done this to his friends, to their home?
Max took up running once more, and despite the heavy protest of his lungs kept running.
"Hello?" Max called out, more frantically this time, his voice almost catching in his throat. He called again and again, building volume. "Hello? Hello?"
He kept pace, and kept calling, eventually reaching something of a cliff. Unable to slow himself, Max felt himself creeping over the edge falling from the plateau to his doom on the rocks bellow. The loosely compacted dirt at the edge gave way to his heels speeding up his descent. A terrified scream found its way out Max's throat, just as a warm hand took hold of his ankle. Max fell forward, head hanging to look down at the rocky floor bellow. His whole body rocking back and forth, Max saw the completed fortress he had built so long ago, up in a purple blaze.
"Help!" He stuttered out, swinging his arms.
"Shh…" Was the response, quieting Max. Once completely quiet, the massive creature pulled Max entirely up into the safety of its arms. Wrapped in warmth, Max looked up.
"K.W.?" He asked, confused. K.W. looked lovingly upon him, with a tinge of sadness as well.
"Oh Max." She said. "Is that you? It has been so long. We really need you here now."
"What has happened?" Asked Max, feeling like a little boy all over again with his childhood companion and protector here with him.
"So many things Max. Everything has changed. It is so good to have you back." K.W. tightly held Max to her chest in another embrace, squeezing him close to tears. Abruptly she stopped, growing grave. She looked down at Max in her arms and said quite seriously, "Max, we can't stay here long, we're not safe you know."
Max drew in a tight breath. A creeping fear took over him as to what had become of his favorite place.