The Red Lady in the Forrest

INTRO:

When I was younger and sitting in my first period English class in eighth grade our English teacher asked all of us.

“What stories have you told today?” 

Considering that it was no later than 9:30 in the morning, everyone in my class looked confused at each other. My teacher then stood up from leaning on the whiteboard and asked us again.

“What stories have you told today?” I raised my hand and she nodded at me. “Tasha?”

“I don’t think I understand. The day has just started. And it’s not like we go telling each other campfire stories on the bus.”

“Oh, but you do.” My English teacher insisted. “You tell stories by your lockers too.”

She turned around and wrote a quote onto the whiteboard. Her handwriting fluid as the whiteboard marker gave a light squeak and patter.

“Mr. Warner, would you read the board for us please?”

I looked over to my classmate. He read the words aloud

“The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think, but to give you questions to think upon.”

She then turned to the class again. 

“Miss Scout? Whom did you see this morning?”

Amanda shuffled in her desk to sit up before she spoke.

“I talked to Caroline.”

“What about?”

“She had a new set of stickers on her binder. And a new collage on her binder with some pictures from a magazine.”

“And she told you about who was on her binder and why?”

“Yes.” Amanda shrugged.

“So Caroline, in the hallway, told you a short story about her binder, what was on it, and why she liked those things.”

Amanda nodded.

Hadirnya fasilitas poker online indonesia membawa sensasi tersendiri bagi para pemain, memungkinkan mereka untuk menikmati permainan poker yang seru dan kompetitif langsung dari genggaman tangan. Dengan men download idn poker apk melalui handphone,  pemain kini dapat mengakses idn poker kapan saja dan di mana saja, tanpa terikat oleh batasan lokasi.

“Class, I want you to understand you don’t need to be born with a huge ambition to write a massive novel in order to be a storyteller. Maybe you don’t even feel comfortable writing yet. I will tell you that everyone is inclined to naturally tell stories, however small. And all creative writing is, is taking experiences, or asking questions about what would happen in those experiences. Take those questions and write down and write out what you believe would happen.”

I remember feeling very enthused for the first time in my boring first period English class. I wrote a ghost story that day, and I’d love to share it with you now.

I’m Tasha Wheelhouse and this is Copper Shock

BODY:

Flagstaff, Arizona is a forest and desert. Hard to picture, but I would encounter lizards, and deer frequently near my home. It wasn’t unusual for me to sit outside on our back patio with some bread to feed the birds.

Menikmati sensasi taruhan di situs toto togel macau memberikan pengalaman yang mendebarkan bagi para pecinta judi, dengan beragam opsi taruhan yang menarik dan peluang menang yang besar. Situs ini tidak hanya menawarkan berbagai jenis permainan dan taruhan yang bisa dinikmati kapan saja, tetapi juga menyediakan informasi terkini mengenai hasil keluaran togel macau. Dengan akses mudah dan cepat ke hasil pengeluaran terbaru, pemain dapat memantau hasil taruhan mereka secara real-time dan merencanakan strategi taruhan selanjutnya dengan lebih baik.

Our mother restricted the number of hours of VHS tapes I was allowed to watch in a day. If I came to her bored the only response she’d give me was “Tasha, read a book, write a book, or paint a picture.” I’d compromise and do none of those things, but make myself content to run around outside into the wide forest backyard.

I’d often play make-believe by myself. The neighborhood I lived in, didn’t have that many kids. Most of the homes owned there were retirement or summer homes for the rich. But our family, we lived here full time. My backyard wasn’t exactly in a suburb. It was a gated community was deep into the countryside between Flagstaff City and Sedona.

One afternoon, after being told to read a book, write a book, or paint a picture...I had let myself out into my backyard. I had a pair of velcro beauty and the beast shoes I’d strap onto my sockless feet, and wander over the packed brown dirt. Sometimes I’d pick up and swing a branch like a sword, or I’d play the watching game.

In my backyard, there was a gazebo. A small covered rotunda painted white and trimmed in teal. It was set pretty far back into our yard. Lined around it were tall pine trees in packed brown dirt. Another 10 feet behind the gazebo was a thin barbed fence that only had two stretches wires that ran over wooden stakes placed every 15 feet. One of the wooden stakes was rustled from the ground and bowed forward pulling the sharp wires down making that part of the fence easy to step over. 

Where we lived I’d frequently see Bucks, Does, Lizards, Chipmunks, red and blue robins and once a brown fox. If I was feeling lazy. I’d do the watching game instead of actually run around. I’d sit in the gazebo near the broken barb wire fence. I had a favorite white wicker chair I’d climb into. 

There was an afternoon I was playing the watching game, patiently waiting for an animal to present itself. The wind in the tall pine trees seemed to dice up the air. I still to this day think that wind that goes through pine needles lets out a slight whistle that’s different than other trees.  I’d brought a blanket with me to keep me warm from the wind. I had no real perception of time as a child but I know it was a long while of me sitting there playing the watching game. I fell asleep in the chair.

I awoke to the cooing hoot of an owl far off. It was dusk. Not quite that dark yet, but a handsome twilight of pink and orange in the sky. 

“This way.” I heard a faint almost whispered call. Just beyond the broken fence. I rubbed my eyes and sat up in the wicker chair. I squinted my eyes and looked out to the great wide mouth of the forest that was turning darker with each minute.

“This way” It beckoned.

“Mom?” I called out in a scratched and groggy voice. I heard no one call back to me.

I stood up and walked out from the covered gazebo and looked beyond the partially broken fence.

I saw a woman very far off near a dip in the landscape. She had long red hair that was half pulled up into a golden broach. She was facing out away from me.

“Hello?” I called over. I felt my stranger danger sense hit my stomach. But into older age reflecting back at that moment, that wasn’t just a stranger danger red flag. There was an instinctual caution that bloomed over my body. I’ve felt it in other situations acute to feeling danger. The trees continued to rustle in the wind.

“This way” I heard another whisper call to me. The woman was still as a statue. Her arms at her sides, facing forward. She wore a black shirt tucked into her light jeans.

“Are you lost? My mom says you’re not supposed to be back there.” I looked back at my home and noticed some lights were beginning to shine through windows. The dusk began to grow darker. I looked forward again.

The woman with red hair was standing closer to the fence than before. I think. I couldn’t exactly tell, but I remember looking at where she was and feeling confused. Her back still to me, and not moving a single muscle. In retrospect, I think she was trying to mimic me in how she stood but never moved while I looked at her.

“I can go get my mom.” I called out.

“This way.” I stepped closer to the broken fence out of curiosity.

“I’m not allowed to go out there.” I continued to try to reason with the woman. It was important to me to let her know the rules. That she is very out of bounds according to my parents, she was in a danger zone of the forest. Anything beyond the broken fence.

“Tasha!” I heard a small call from far off. My mother had tried to look for me from the front door. “Come inside please!” I looked back over my shoulder, the sky was turning a blue-purple and the first few glints of stars started to come out. 

I looked forward once more. The woman was just beyond the broken barbed fence. I gasped and took a startled step backward. She was still facing into the forest. I felt a worry crawl up through me. This close I noticed something. Even the strands of her hair didn’t move whatsoever in the gentle forest wind. I felt a rush through my stomach. There was no way she could have moved that fast without making a single noise. I’ve played out on this terrain for hours and I know the sound a foot makes on dirt, a wayward stepped on a branch, fallen bark on the ground. 

“This way.” I heard from her again the loudest yet. I was stiff, but not totally paralyzed by fear. I took another step backward, then another, and another.

“Tasha! Now please.” another call from the front side of the house. I looked behind me to see how close I was to the backdoor. I should have never looked. 

When I looked forward. The woman was standing inside the fence. I stopped walking backward and stood there breathing heavily and feeling hot tears stream out of my eyes. I couldn’t move as I stood there looking at the woman.

“Toddy?” The instant I heard the voice and familiar lilt of my mother nearby. I started to cry really hard. She walked up to me and placed her hand on my back. 

“Honey, it’s cold can we be done with the watching game for now? Dinner is ready.” 

“The lady.” I said whimpering. 

“Who? Where?” Mother asked. 

She was gone. I began to bawl, and was almost inconsolable. I tried to tell her I saw a ghost, but my mom just humored me by cuddling and letting me know there aren’t any ghosts here. She tried to distract me by telling me I could pick out two books for storytime tonight. I had other unusual encounters while I lived in that house but that will be a story for another time.

(END)