Chapter one: The Hunt
The first snowfall is always the most beautiful. The gentle whisper of the coming winter softly caresses the Earth, urging Mother's critters to finish their preparations. Snowflakes gently dancing down their slow path towards a new home, masking the ground in a white blanket.
This year was no different. The gentle breeze whistling through the trees during its journey. I was among the trees, slowly picking my path towards my goal, the night silencing all sound in my wake. With the first snow of the year, comes my yearly tradition. Hunting. I've spent weeks to prepare for the snow that was sure to come. Packing a small bag of clothes and basic equipment, I had left my small farm house when I saw the snow beckoning, calling my name.
Wrapped within the quiet of the forest, I slowly crept along, searching for the signs of nearby prey. After about an hour, I started to come across evidence of a herd of deer that had come through the area very recently. Smiling to myself, I pulled up the collar of my jacket to fight against the chilling wind. Continuing along my path, I began to see droppings, still steaming in the frigid air. I crept along, slower than before, and crouched down. Pulling out my bow, I nocked an arrow to prepare for the coming kill.
There, approximately fifty feet away from me, I saw my target, a young buck. I crouched even lower, and smiled. I pulled the string back on the bow, remembering all of the lessons that my father had taught me. I took aim, and slowly filled my lungs with air. After a second, I slowly stood up to my full height, and adjusted my bow. Thankfully the buck hadn't noticed me yet. Very slowly, I released my breath, and released the string. With a soft twang, the arrow sailed through the air straight for the buck's head.
Thump! That was all I heard before the buck dropped to the ground. I put away my bow, and pulled out my knife, preparing in case the buck hadn't yet died. I approached my kill as blood began pooling on the frozen ground, steaming. Upon reaching the buck, the first task was to see if was still living. Putting my gloved hand on its side, I tried to feel for breathing. Nothing. My smile growing broader, I began my work.
Skinning the deer, I took its hide and set it aside. I then took my knife, a started carving out the meat that I wanted. I knew I needed to hurry, because the smell of blood would bring the forest more dangerous creatures to my location, and I don't want to have to fight them off. Shortly thereafter, I finished and pulled out a tarp from my bag. I wrapped the meat inside it, and then wrapped the hide around the tarp. Making sure I could still carry it, I looked at my handiwork. The buck was reduced to organs, and any meat that I found undesirable.
Smiling, I picked up my prize and began my long journey home.
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When I returned home, I looked up at the sky. The moon was still high in the sky, having only a small handful of hours have passed. I removed the hide from the tarp, and hung it on my front porch for later. I then walked the meat over to the small root cellar that we had, and hung it up on the ceiling. Knowing that the freezing temperature of the cellar would preserve the meat, I walked back to the front porch, and picked up my hide. I brought it over to the drying rack and pinned it up. My smile dropping, I turned back to my house, and upon seeing the smoke from the chimney, I knew I had to be ready to confront the most dangerous part of the hunt. My mother.
Walking up to the front door, I sighed, knowing exactly what my mother would say about me hunting. I slowly opened the front door, and entered fully expecting to be yelled at. When the yelling didn't commence, I looked around. Sitting in front of the fireplace, in her chair, was my mother. I walked over to her, and examined what I saw. She was fast asleep. Smiling, I grabbed a blanket out of the closet, and wrapped my mother in it. During this process she stirred slightly, causing me to flinch, but she did not wake. I let out a breath that I didn't even know that I was holding, and walked upstairs to my room.
When I entered my room, I sighed again. I being the only child of a farming family, with only my mother to raise me, I had very little in my room. I was content with what little I had, but sometimes I wondered what I was missing. Pushing that though aside for now, I set my bow on my bed, along with my quiver. I pulled off my knife, and set it upon my dresser so that I could clean it later. After I that, my brown hunting jacket joined my bow on my bed. Shivering slightly, I began undressing. When I was fully undressed, I grabbed a change of clothes, and took to the bathroom.
I opened the shower curtains and turned on the hot water, adjusting it to my liking. Stepping inside, I pulled the curtains closed, and stepped under the shower of water. The hot water soothing my tensed muscles, I began to slowly relax. The fatigue of the hunt slowly began to eat away at my body. I stayed like that for several minutes, letting the water soothe my body and mind. When I felt relaxed, I began to scrub away the grime from my skin. The water leaving my body had turned brown with all the dirt and blood on me, showing that this shower was a very good idea. When the water returned to clear, I turned my attention to my hair. Removing the band holing my hair up, I let my auburn hair fall down to my back. Grabbing my shampoo, I began to lather my head.
After spending about twenty minutes in the shower, or at least until the water turned cold, I removed myself from the warm embrace of the steaming shower. Shivering upon entering the cold air, I began to dry myself off. When I believed I was adequately dry, I moved in front of the foggy mirror. Wiping the condensation off, I looked at the face staring back at me. Glaring at my reflection, I made a few faces at myself. Giggling at the stupidity of my actions, I pulled my hair back up to a pony tail.
After my hair was dealt with, I started pulling on my clothes. Not bothering with a bra, because I was planning on sleeping anyway, I put on brown pajama pants that where slightly baggy, and a burnt-orange blouse. Putting on my socks, I opened the door to the bathroom. When I finished putting on my socks, I looked up and jumped. Standing in front of the door was my mother, and boy did she look pissed.
“Autumn. I remember strictly warning you not to go out hunting alone in that forest!” The harshly spat at me. “It's dangerous out there! You KNOW what happened to your father!”
“Yes I know what happened, and yes it's dangerous, however, father trained me to watch the forest, to know what is out there!” I replied sharply. “I take every action that I can in order to ensure my safety!”
“If that were true, then you wouldn't in that FOREST, now would you?”
“That FOREST is what keeps me sane. We live in the middle of nowhere. I have no social life, no friends, no money, and I have nothing else to do! Hunting during the winter, when otherwise I would be trapped inside, is my only escape!”
“I DON'T CARE! I AM YOUR MOTHER, AND I DEMAND YOU STAY OUT OF THAT FOREST! IT'S FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!” Her voice started to rattle the windows in her anger.
“I HATE YOU!” I cried, with tears coming to my eyes.
My mother was shocked by that. Her mouth opening and closing like a fish, trying to find the words in order refute what I just said. I regretted saying them immediately. However, I wasn't about to take them back.
Pushing her out of my way, I returned to the comfort of my bedroom. Slamming the door, I locked it behind me. I pushed everything off of my bed, and just wept. Slowly, after the worst of my tears had died away, I decided that I would sneak out, to allow my mother time to calm down. Of course I knew that was a bad idea, and it would most likely make things worse, but I also need time to cool off.
Taking off my sleep wear, I pulled on my hunting gear once again. Luckily they weren’t badly stained by blood. Only my gloves were. Replacing them with a new set, I grabbed my bag of gear. As an afterthought, I stuffed my pajamas in with them. I looked around the room to see if I forgot anything. Seeing nothing but my bow, quiver, and knife, I quickly strapped everything on and turned to my window. Opening it slowly, I looked down at the ground. Being on the second floor, I knew that it would be a hassle to get down, but, having done this a multitude of times before, I simply grabbed onto the drain pipe next to my window and slid down.
When I reached the bottom, I saw through the bottom floor window my mother starring daggers at me. I simply gave a small salute, grabbed the hide off the tanning rack, and trudged my way through the snow in the direction of the forest, knowing that she wouldn't follow me due to fear.
Upon entering the forest, I angled my path towards my “secret” place. I say secret lightly, because my mother knows where it is, however, she would never enter the forest. Even if she did, she would never go this deep into the dark embrace of the trees.
My journey uneventful, I started to whistle a tune. The song was unintelligible, of course, but I whistled it none the less. Upon reaching my sanctuary, I started up a fire using my flint and tinder I kept with me in the bag of gear. Looking around, I saw that my clearing had not been disturbed by any creature since my last visit.
Satisfied, I upended my bag onto a tree stump that I use as a table. Slowly I took stock of my resources. My flint and tinder, a plastic tarp, a sharpening stone, my hunting knife, twelve arrows, my bow, a small length of rope, a small sleeping bag, a coil of trap wire, a journal with a few pens, and a compass all joined my spare set of clothes, and my pajamas.
If I was to sleep out here in the forest, I would need to prepare the area. I gathered up some surrounding wood from the ground, careful to choose the dry stuff because it is easier to keep lit. Building up my small fire, I then turned my attention to my tarp. Knowing that I would have to clean it if I were to sleep under it, I gathered snow into my pot, and put it into the fire to melt. When the water was done, I then laid out my tarp flat, with the bloody side facing up. I then poured the hot water onto it, and began washing. When I was done, I pulled out my rope, and strung it onto a nearby tree to create a makeshift tent. Satisfied with my work, I cleared away the new snow, and rolled out my sleeping bag.
Putting the remainder of my gear away, I crawled into the sleeping bag, and used my bag as a pillow. The exhaustion of the night’s events shortly claimed me. Slowly I fell asleep, as the fire cracked and popped into the night.
I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke, the sun was high in the sky. After stretching my sore muscles, I decided that my mother had enough time to stew, and that I should get home. I started packing up my tent when I heard the low growl.
Turning very slowly, I saw what made the noise, and I wished that I hadn't. A bear, a large male bear at that, was prowling around my small campsite. The bear just stared at me, and I stared back, eyes wide open. Every lesson that I was given in bear safety, worthless when fear has my body was completely locked in position.
I slowly glanced to my bow. It was sitting on the tree trunk still, along with my knife. “Shit,” I said under my breath, but instantly regretted it. Somehow my voice triggered something. The bear walked straight up to me, and stood at its full height on its back legs. Towering over me, my mind screamed at me to run. However, I knew that would be a bad idea, because any sudden movements could be the end of me. I looked to my bow again. If I were to sprint, I might be able to grab it before I get mauled.
At the movement of my head, the bear let loose and ear shattering roar. I flinched away from the sound, and wished I was still at home, being scolded by my mother. The bear fell back down to all fours, and then put its face up to my chest.
The bear sniffed very loudly, and then pushed its head against me. I stumbled a bit, but did not fall. I couldn’t even move, because the fear of death had petrified me in place. The bear sniffed again, but then turned around. It walked towards the hide that was still laying on the tree trunk, and sniffed it. Turning its head to look at me, it growled once more.
My eyes widened, realizing what had attracted the bear. The smell of dried blood was still present on the freshly cut hide. The bear turned back towards the hide, and in one motion, took the hide in its mouth and left.
Blissfully, I was alone. I then quickly took stock on what had just happened. A bear came into my camp, growled at me, took my deer hide, then left. Nothing else had happened. Nothing. At. All. I decided to just take it as it was given to me. I finished packing up my camp, making sure to keep the bow near me at all times.
With the packing completed, I decided the best course of action would be to return to the safety, if not unwanted, of my home. If my mother yells at me, she is justified. However, that won't stop me from coming back, I will just be more cautious.
I quickly got back on the familiar path back to my house. Walking slowly, watching my surroundings for any sign of the bear, I continued on my way, relaxing as the event from before slowly lost its potency in my memories.
Looking at my watch, I saw that it was nearing noon. Knowing that my mother will either be very worried, or pissed that I stayed out this long, I picked up the pace in an attempt to make it there faster. The snow, however, was content in making the trek back miserable, so I decided that my previous pace would work just fine.
Suddenly a piercing woman's scream was heard throughout the forest. The birds that were nesting in the nearby trees flew up causing a ruckus themselves. Shortly after the scream, I heard a deafening roar. Fearing the worst, I ran towards the sound, drawing my bow and nocking an arrow in the process. I feared that my mother had tried to come into the forest to look for me, and had ran into the bear.
Ignoring the snow, I started to run. I heard another roar to my left, and anther scream, this time a man's voice. Now that I heard this voice, I knew that it couldn't be my mother. However, I wasn't about to stop just because I didn't know who was in trouble.
“Somebody help me!' yelled a very childish voice.
“I'm coming!” I yelled back. I ran faster, faster than I had ever done in my life. I didn't recognize the voice, however I ran all the same. I jumped over roots, ducked under branches, and barreled my way through the snow, all in an attempt to save the people in trouble.
“Help me!” screamed the childish voice. This time it sounded to my right but a whole lot closer. I started to see tracks in the snow, and what looked like blood.
“I'm almost there! Just keep running!” I yelled back, attempting to save the child before anything else happens. I altered my course to follow the tracks. As I was running, I noticed that the tracks seemed to belong to a horse, and what I was guessing a bear, however it looked more cat like. As I burst through the bushes in pursuit of my target, I readied my bow, knowing that the bear wasn't that far away.
The horse tracks seemed to stop suddenly, right in front of a large tree, but the other tracks kept going. “I hope I'm not too late,” I said out loud. I searched the immediate area, hoping to find any sign of the rider. There were none. Not even any blood. I started to relax a bit, trying to catch my breath.
“I'm up here!” called the same voice. This time it sounded like it was coming from the tree where the first tracks had ended.
I looked up, only to be greeted with the sight of thin air. “I don't see you.”
“Good. Maybe the manticore can't either. He ran off in that direction.”
'Manticore?' I thought. I remembered them from Greek mythology, a lion with bat wings, and a scorpion tail. I obviously heard was she said. At least I think it was a she. Sounded like a little girl. “Was it chasing your horse?” I asked in an attempt to get her down.
“Horse? No, I'm a pony,” she said in reply. “Now keep quiet, or the manticore will hear you!”
'Pony now? What the hell did I hit my head on in the forest?' I thought.
“Anyway, you should get down, so I can get you out of here,” I said.
“No! The manticore will come back!” she whispered in fear.
“Look, I don't know anything about a manticore but-”
“Watch out!” she cried.
Hearing this, I instinctively ducked. I felt the air above my head move, and I looked behind me, readying my bow. There, about five feet in front of me, was a lion. No, not a lion. A manticore. The wings and tail confirmed it. “Shit!” I cried. I wildly let an arrow fly in the direction of this monstrous beast. The arrow hit it on the back, right between its wings.
An earth shattering roar came from the beast as it took another swing at my head. Just in time, I was able to roll out of the way, but not before the beast caught my backpack. Its claws gripped my bag, as it raised me and the bag into the air. I frantically tried to unclasp the bag so I could escape, however my fear caused me to drop my bow. I was now defenseless.
The manticore then proceeded to try and impale me with its tail. I was able to twist away from the spike, however I was still grazed. Seeing the gash on my shirt, and the blood that was now seeping out of my cut, I tried to escape with a new strength. The manticore pulled back its tail to renew the same attack as before. I managed to get the bag off just as the manticore struck. The spike went straight through the bag, effectively getting caught, and causing the spike to be useless.
The manticore tried frantically to shake the bag off, but the bag wouldn't come off. In the mad frenzy, the manticore stepped on my bow, snapping the wooden bow into two. “Damn it!” I yelled.
The manticore tried once again to shake off the bag, and this time it succeeded, spilling its contents all over the nearby ground. It then tried to impale me again, but this time I was mobile, so it missed completely. I then remembered my knife that was strapped to my leg. I unsheathed the blade, sizing up my target. Obviously, when I hit in between its wings, the arrow had caused great pain. Knowing this, I tried to clear my head, focusing my thoughts, so that a plan could be formed.
Thanks to the focus that I now had, I was able to tell the manticore's movements before they happened. It moves very similar to a cat, keeping its weight balanced and in constant motion. I nimbly dodged a few swipes that it took at me, and saw my opening. Jumped over its tail as it tried to impale me once more. I then grabbed a hold of it, intending to ride it up to its back. Just as I thought, the manticore panicked, and tried to shake me off by lifting its tale. I quickly jumped onto its back before it could gain momentum. The beast then roared and attempted to buck me off like a horse. Yet I held on, putting my plan into action.
The manticore quickly changed tactics, and tried to use its tail to spear me. However, I quickly climbed out of the way, and it missed me by a hair and continued onwards into its own hide. The spike on the tail stabbed into the point between the wings, and released its poison. Not my original plan, but just as effective. I then jumped off the beast, as it was effectively immobilized by its own poison.
I ran up to its head, intending to kill it. I dodged its feeble attempt to hit me and proceeded to stab my knife into its skull, right between the eyes. Twisting the blade, the manticore let out a terrifying cry before going still.
My breath was shallow from this exertion, however I wasn't done yet. I slowly picked my way up to the beast's neck and placed my hand upon where I believed its jugular would be located. I felt a very feint pulse, but it was still there. I then slit the beast's throat, spilling its life blood out. Slowly, the manticore’s life ebbed away as its blood seeped out of its body.
After the beast stopped breathing, I picked up my broken bow. I had hand crafted it with my father, so I didn’t want it to be left here, even if it was broken. Surveying the seen, I quickly searched the ground for my scattered supplies, seeing if anything was salvageable. My flint and tinder, the sharpening stone, pens and journal were untouched, however, the clothes and trap had been ruined. I grabbed them anyway, knowing that my mother would patch them up if I explained. Well maybe not the truth, but still a story that she could believe. Seeing that the rope was okay also, I packed up my supplies in my now torn bag, making sure that the hole was covered with my tarp.
“Is it over?” asked the little girl from the tree. I could tell she was still frightened.
“Yes,” I said, still looking away from the tree. “You can come down now.”
I then heard a small crash as a branch broke and the girl came tumbling down with a soft oomph.
“You alright?” I asked as I turned around to face the tree.
“Yeah, I fell into a snow pile, so I’m fine,” She said.
Even though I was facing her, all I saw was her orange hair because of the snow pile that she had landed in. As she stood up, I still didn’t quite see her. Her body was blocked by the small white horse she had rode to get away from the beast.
“How in the world did you get your horse into that tree?” I asked, dumbfounded as to how she had accomplished that feat.
“I told you before, I’m a pony, not a horse,” The voice said.
The hor- I mean the pony said that. With her mouth. A talking pony. No rider. A pony.
“I must have hit my head hard on something. I could have just sworn that your pony said that,” I said, again dumbfounded.
“That’s because I did say that,” said the horse haughtily.
“But- never mind. I must be dreaming. That would explain all the weird stuff that has happened to me today.”
“I can assure you, that you are not dreaming. Now are you all right? You took a nasty hit there from that thing’s tail.”
“Yeah I’m alright,” I said, hiding the pain that I obviously felt.
“Good. I don’t want you to be hurt when you just saved me.”
“Thank you. Now you should get out of this forest. I don’t want you getting in more trouble out here,” I said as I began to walk back the way I had come.
“Umm, can you do me a favor?”
I stopped. Turning around, I just looked at her. This dream pony/girl thing was really needy for just being saved. “What is it?” I asked, a little cross.
“Can you help me find my parents? I sort of lost them when I was running,” she asked, sheepishly. She was obviously hurt by my rashness.
“Alright… I guess I can do that,” I said, regretting how I had answered her. “What’s your name anyway?”
“Golden Dawn. Or Dawn for short. What’s yours?”
“Autumn.”
“Okay Autumn, the last time I saw my parents was this way,” she stated as she started leading me in the direction that I had originally heard the screams come from. For her sake, I hope that these parents of hers aren’t dead. That would be tragic, even for a dream. Or a nightmare in this case.
Dawn was silent while we were walking. She seemed sad, very sad. I wish I could just pass it off as nothing, but I believe I know the cause. And I need to apologize.
“Look… I-I’m sorry for being cross at you. It’s been a weird day for me,” I said in an attempt to make her feel better. “And a rough night also.”
Judging by her lack of reaction, she either doesn’t forgive me, or there is something else wrong. Somehow she reminded me of my dog that I had when I was younger. Whenever he had thought he was in trouble, even when he had done nothing wrong, he would cower, as if he were asking for forgiveness.
“It’s not that,” she said quietly after a while of silence. “I left my parents alone, while I ran away. They tried to fight off the beast so I could escape, but I don’t know if they are alright,” her drooped lower as she said this.
I said it before, but I truly hope that her parents are alright. It sounds like they tried to give their life in order to save their daughter. Much like how my dad had done for me…
“They’ll be fine,” I said while fighting back tears. “I’m sure they hid themselves after you got away.”
“Are you sure you’re all right? You sound like you’re crying.”
She noticed. How? She’s still looking at the ground. It must have been an inflection in my voice. “Y-yes, I’m fine.” There was considerable silence afterwards.
I started to watch the ground, looking for any tracks or otherwise. I could tell we were getting close due to how much the ground looked trampled from the attack. It was during my search that I saw it. There, in the snow was blood. Small droplets, but blood nonetheless. I started to worry. Looking at Dawn, I could see that she wasn’t the one injured, and the manticore that I fought didn’t have any injuries that I didn’t give him.
As we were walking, we quickly came across a small clearing. I could easily tell that there was a camp that had been set up here, not too long ago. There were trampled tents, a fire pit, and other camping supplies randomly strewn around the clearing. It looked like some sort of large animal had come through and trampled the place. Or a manticore. This must have been the camp that dawn and her family had stayed at shortly before they were attacked.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Dawn said as she stopped at a patch of ground that was heavily covered in pony tracks and of the manticore. “I left them right here.”
I took a look around. Sure enough, I could tell there was an obvious fight here. Who won, I think I know. However, I wasn’t about to give up yet, seeing that I had come this far to help her. This dream I’m having sure is a heavily detailed one. I could see exactly where the ponies had fought the manticore. There was blood splattered around haphazardly, like some sick and twisted contemporary art piece. Somehow Dawn was completely oblivious to the carnage around her. I don’t know if she just isn’t seeing it, or if she just doesn’t want to accept the fact on what the scene before us means.
Strangely though, I didn’t see any bodies. I took another survey of the area, trying to decipher where they went. There, next to the nearby bushes, the snow was patterned as if someone, or thing for that matter, had been dragged across it. Upon closer inspection I saw a lot of blood surrounding the immediate location. That was when I started to worry.
“Dawn?” I asked. I had stopped hearing her move around the area. Looking over to her, I saw that she had sat down in the center of the clearing, surveying the scene around her. It looks like she has finally started to see what this means.
“They were right here… packing up… we were about to leave this forest… our journey was almost over…” her voice coming to a whisper near the end. Her eyes widened as she started to put the puzzle together.
I walked over to her and sat down. I needed to comfort her, and fast, before she absolutely lost it. This tragedy, this nightmare, the thought of losing one’s parents at such a young age without anyone to take care of them… was too much. I broke into tears, letting loose the torrent of emotions that I had refused to acknowledge when my father had died. For her comfort, and for mine admittedly, I picked her up, and just held her. Surprisingly, for being a pony, she was very light, and soft. Slowly, as she pieced more of the catastrophe together, she began to cry also.
As the cold began to get to me, I started to try to brake from the embrace. Our tears had dried up long ago, but we stayed together for the thought of each other’s company. I have no idea how much time had passed, but I know that we needed to find someplace warm before we get too cold. This nightmare I was in seemed to be getting more and more like real life by the minute. I felt exhausted. More so than usual at this time of day. I just passed it off as the battle fatigue that I was feeling.
“Don’t go…” Dawn said weakly, trying desperately to hold on to me.
“I’m not going anywhere without you. We need to get moving before nightfall so that we can have a warm bed and a hot meal.” I told her. Slowly I stood up, with her in my arms. She wasn’t heavy at all, almost as if she was like a large pillow.
“That sounds nice…” she said with a yawn. I felt her curl up, using my breasts as a pillow. I smiled at the sight, for it was just too cute.
“Rest now. I’ll take you home.”
She promptly fell asleep, while I oriented myself in the direction of home. I found my footprints from where I came barreling through the woods, and began to follow them, back to the hunting trail that I always followed.
I looked around on my path through the woods, purely so that we wouldn’t attacked unaware. What surprised me was not an enemy, but the forest itself. It was as if I didn’t know it, is if it had changed. The trees were all in the right place according to my memory, and the pathway the same, but somehow, it felt like I have never been here before. Even when I got back to my hunting trail, it felt as if the path had changed. I took out my compass to verify that we were going in the right direction, and sure enough, we were. I quickly just passed it off as exhaustion.
That’s when I began to think that this wasn’t a dream. You don’t get tired in dreams. You may feel slow, lethargic even, but you don’t get tired, or winded. I looked down at dawn once more, and again, all I saw was a pure white small pony, with multi-orange hair. I can’t believe that this isn't a dream. This was too weird to not be a dream.
As I started to near the farm house, I grew more and more weary as the sun fell to the earth.. It got to the point where I had to rest against every other tree, just to make it. I don’t know if it was because of the cold, which wasn't that bad considering how late into the year it is, or if I was just exhausted beyond my limits.
Suddenly, I felt I sharp stab of pain coming from my abdomen, near where the manticore had scratched me with its tail. The wound had scabbed over long ago, but I still felt pain. There was nothing visibly wrong with the wound however, so I kept going. I knew I was almost there, I could even smell the wood smoke that comes from the chimney. I quickened my pace, renewed by the thought of home. I quickly broke the tree line, and headed towards the house. If I could just make it to the house…
Another stab of pain almost made me pitch over, causing me to stumble, and almost trip. I don’t know how Dawn was sleeping through this, but was doing a fine job of it. I just wanted to sleep. The beckoning snow seemed to want to pull me closer. With each stab of pain, I grew more tired. It was if my energy was leaking out of my wound.
I slowly made it to the front door. By this time, the sun had completely set, and I knew that if my mother wasn't up waiting for me, she would be upstairs asleep. I hoped for my sake that she was waiting for me. I don’t think that I have it in me to call for help. I slumped against the door, unable to move to get it open. As the pain grew more intense, I felt my consciousness slowly slip away, fading into darkness.
The last thing I remember before passing out, was an orange blob, asking if I was alright…
