Under Branches: II

II; don't come back (part one)

       When we wake in the morning, no one mentions what happened last night. We gather our supplies and make our way through the forest. Robin and Connor chatter mindlessly like they always do, walking ahead of me. But I'm quiet. Because behind my voice, I'm screaming. I'm holding back violent tears. I'm trying not to rip my heart out as it buzzes uncontrollably in its bony cage, begging to be free.

       We reach the car before anyone says anything to me.

       "What's up with you?" Robin asks, prodding me from the back seat.

       "Nothing."

       I'm scared to say more in case I burst into tears. I can still see the ghost's face and eyes and feel the cold touch on my face.

       Lian...

       I can almost hear him whispering to me.  Kit... My Kit...

       The next few days pass quietly, slowly, without sleep. A biting chill has haunted me since leaving the forest, and I can't bear to leave my bed.

       My mum knocks on my door.

       "Kit, sweetie..." she says as she walks towards me lying in my bed. "You've been in your room since you came back from the lake."

       I shiver as she sits down next to me.

       "I think I'm sick," I whisper, not sure if "sick" is quite the right word.

       Mum places her hand on my forehead. "You're freezing! Maybe I should call the doctor..."

       "No, it's okay."

       She pulls another blanket from under the bed and wraps it around me. "I'll bring you some tea, all right?"

       I nod slowly, only wanting her to leave. As she walks away from me, I close my eyes.

       Lian.

       Who was he? Why is he in the forest? I pull my phone out from under the covers and call Robin.

       "Dude, where have you been?" he asks, his voice worried. "You've not surfaced since the other night."

       "I need to go to the forest again."

       There's a pause at the other end of the line. "Have you gone mad? I'm not going back there. It was creepy."

       "I need to find that house."

       "What house?"

       "The house! The one from the story. The one that no one can get near because of the ghost."

       Robin sighs. "Again. I'm not going back there."

       "Please --"

       "Why don't you ask Connor?"

       I scoff. "No, Connor will just laugh at me."

       "And you think I won't?" Robin chuckles. "Really, Kit, are you crazy?"

       "I know what I saw. I saw a ghost."

       "You were dreaming!"

       "No, I wasn't!" I can feel my voice getting louder, and I quickly rein it back. "Look. I'm afraid, Robin. I've been... frozen since we came back."

       "What do you mean?"

       "Like, I'm freezing?"

       "Don't you think going back will make it worse? You probably just got sick from sleeping outside. Maybe you have the flu."

       I force my eyes closed, feeling the stress on my forehead. "I don't have a fever, Robin. I'm freezing."

       I hear a knock on my door.

       "I'll pick you up in the afternoon," I say quickly, hanging up before he can disagree.

       After my mum has dragged me from the bed and insisted I drink the tea and brush my hair, I finally look at myself in the mirror for the first time in days. My skin has become an almost sallow white, dark circles adorning my usually bright eyes, and my hair is like a birds nest; Edward Scissorhands meets Amy Winehouse. But it doesn't take me long to control the latter into an elastic, and I get dressed, pulling on a needlessly thick sweater for August.

       "You look cosy," Robin comments when he answers his door. "But also a little dead."

       "Come on, let's go."

       He stares at me in frustration. "I'm not going."

       "Please!" I beg him. "I promise I will never ever ask you for anything ever again."

       He thinks about it for a second and then smiles. "Still, no."

       I clench my fists, wishing I had friends I could rely on. "Fine." I turn on my heel and march towards his front gate.

       "Wait, where are you going?" he calls out to me.

       "To the forest, by myself."

       "Kit, you can't go alone! That's insane!"

       "Bye!" I wave, not looking at him.

       I hear him growl. "Okay, I'll come with you. Just wait a minute."

       It takes a lot longer to reach the centre of the forest on foot. I hadn't thought that part through enough, but at least I was assured that we had plenty of daylight left.

       With each footstep, I can feel myself growing more and more wary of my surroundings, yet at the same time, I feel more at ease than before. But after nearly an hour of walking and still not finding the lake, I begin to grow frustrated.

       I cry out, kicking a nearby tree. "Where the hell is it?!"

       Robin looks at me with wide eyes. "Chill. We'll find it."

       "I don't remember it taking this long before." I slump against the bark. "And I don't even know what direction we're going in anymore."

       Robin lifts his hand as if asking permission to speak.

       "What are you doing?"

       "I'm checking to see what direction the wind is going in. But there isn't any."

       I look around. "Yeah. It's so still... It freaks me out."

       Robin looks uneasy as he brings his hand back down. "It's like... It's like being inside a photo."

       A photo.

       "Robin, those pictures you took the other night... Did you look at any them?"

       He grimaces. "Yeah, they didn't come out right at all. Nothing focused right, and the reflection of the sun totally overexposed everything. Even the ones of us are just a blurry mess."

       I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "Come on. We should keep moving."

       We fight our way through the trees again, trying to listen out for anything that might aid our search, our mobile phones out of signal and our feet slowly growing more tired.

       I'm about to call it a day when I hear a sudden splash a few metres away.

       I grab Robin's arm and drag him in the direction of the sound until the lake appears in front of us.

       "Woah, how did you do that?" he mutters, gasping.

       "Didn't you hear the water?" I narrow my eyes at him.

       "What?"

       I'm about to answer him, accusing him of trying to mess with me, but as I look out across the lake, my lungs freeze.

       Through the mist, I see the house.

       "Look."

       Robin gazes out. "I can't see anything."

       "Look harder."

       There's silence from him, and I hear a small moan escape his throat. "Shit."

       I grab his arm. "Come on --"

       "I don't... I don't think I can, Kit."

       "I'm supposed to be the one who's scared of everything! Come on."

       We begin our sprint around the lake, my eyes never leaving the house. I'm scared that it'll disappear if I look away. I hear Robin cry out behind me.

       "What do you think is in there?"

       I don't answer him but instead, run faster until we reach the bottom of a path that leads to the front door.

       The house is small, almost like a hut. There's only one window right at the top near the roof, and one door at the front that's been boarded over. There's a fence surrounding it with two gates; one that stands in front of us, and one down the other side, with steps leading down into the lake. I swear I see smoke billowing from the crude chimney for a second.

       My heart thumps so hard in my chest that I wouldn't be surprised if Robin can hear it.

       "Okay, so, we've found the house..." Robin says, his voice shaking. "Can we go home now?"

       Again, I don't answer. I push the gate open and start down the path until I reach the door.

       "We need to pull the boards off," I say, glancing behind me.

       But Robin is gone.

       "Hey!" I shout, looking around. "Robin!"

       No answer.

       I'm alone.

       I swallow again and turn back to the door, trying to ignore the crushing fear in my stomach. I grab one of the nails and pull. It comes out quickly, the wood around it rotting away. The boards almost disintegrate in my hands as I tug out each of the nails with little effort.

       Soon, the door is exposed. It's hanging from the hinges, barely even functional now. I bring my hand to the doorknob.

       A vast weight sweeps over me, and I grip at thin air. I look around, my eyes scanning for Robin. A thick fog pours between the trees, making the land around me darker. And when I turn back to the house, it's no longer the dilapidated thing it was thirty seconds ago.

       In front of me stands a small cottage. I run my hand over the door, it now made from smooth panelled wood. I can see the light through the narrow gaps in the boards and bring my face close, but I can't see anything clearly through the holes.

       "Robin?" I whisper, my voice coming out weaker than I thought it would.

       It takes every ounce of strength to turn the doorknob and pull it towards me.

       I step inside, looking around in awe at the perfectly preserved setting; a fireplace stands unlit on the back wall, and there's a pot on the coal burner by a shoddy looking single bed in the corner. The room is cluttered, inkwells and papers are strewn over the desk, piles of books on every other available surface, and half-melted candles dotted here and there. Above the fire, there are several painted portraits of older men in old-fashioned priests robes and a large crucifix.

       Where the hell am I..?

       Suddenly, I hear a voice outside the door.

       "Are you in there?"

       I sigh in relief. "Robin, come in here, you gotta see this!"

       Another knock. "Hello? Father Lucian?"

       My heart stops.

       I hear a moan from the corner of the room, and my eyes move slowly toward it. A lump under the bed sheet shudders.

       "Lucian, I'm coming in!"

       Behind me, the door opens violently, and I turn.

       Nothing could have possibly prepared me for what I see.

       A man walks past me and steps towards the bed. He pulls the cover aside, and I hear him muttering.

       "I knew something bad had happened to you... Your fever is..."

       His voice is intermittent, resembling a radio dropping signal. I slowly walk around him, fear gripping onto me like a cold blanket.

       There's someone in the bed, but I can't see their face, just a mess of blonde hair fanning on the pillow. My eyes glance over the figure leaning over the sheets, still soundlessly talking, and I lose the feeling in my legs.

       The long dark curls, the big bright eyes...

       My knees hit the wooden floor, and a silent scream falls from my lips.

       The world falls away from me as I'm pulled into another universe.

       The figure is me.