I knew that I had a rough life already, but I didn’t need people talking about it. I knew that I was different than everyone else and I knew that I had to live with it. I guess I knew what I was going to hear every day. Today, though. Today was different. I didn’t know how to brace myself for what I was about to hear. Those two little words, “we’re moving”, have more of an impact on you than you would expect. Having a parent in the military was something that I was used to, but after being in the same spot for over a year, it starts to feel like home. Yes, over the year and three months that I have lived in Noxon, Montana, I have made friends. When we moved for the first time, I had trouble doing so. Who was the last person picked for the team? Always me. That’s just human nature. If we don’t recognize something, it’s shoved to the side. No, it wasn’t fun being the girl who slipped in and out of people’s lives like a thread and needle. That’s the worst part of all of this, seeing people’s faces sadden as they listen to the news. What was the plus side of things for me? I have seen more than what most kids have seen by the age of 13. The climates, the people, the culture- it was all amazing. Another part of human nature is we have to see it to believe it. Of course, that’s not true for all of us. Just a special handful of us can imagine places, things, and people.

Montana was what I would call the perfect summer getaway. After living in Florida for nine months, the palm trees all look the same and the weather doesn’t change. For the first two weeks, I was craving the feeling of more sand under my feet and more sun hitting my back. For the next eight and a half months, I couldn’t escape from anything. Here in Montana, the sky is big and blue. I could sit for hours gazing at the soft blue sea hanging above me. The mountains? They tower above us and act as a shield, keeping us safe from the real world. The river? Crisp and cool to the touch, summoning goose bumps to rise from my legs and arms. What about the air? The air was clean and fresh and easy to suck in. It was my paradise.

Of course, I have learned to do things here that others would say are for a vacation. The first thing I did was learn to zipline. The trees held me close as I waited to jump off the platform. The first time I jumped, the wind picked up my hair and threw it in all different directions. The feeling of whizzing through the air with nothing but a harness and wire to keep me from falling was a feeling that made my stomach drop and heart beat faster. White water rafting was another audacious activity learned to appreciate. The cold water rushing by me and huge rocks bumping into the raft turned us in all different directions. My heart raced and my stomach leaped into the air as we picked up speed.

My favorite part of Montana was the forest. The forest was deep and rich. It held colors that had only been seen by the animals who dared to live in such a treacherous part of the world. Why was this particular place so risky to venture into? Why was the deepest part of it considered the core of the earth? Why did the locals fear this place? No one knew. Everyone who had ever gone in had never come back out. I’ve lived here for a year and no one has ever dared to step foot inside the thick woodland. Why did that make the urge so much stronger? There were so many questions for something that was unknown to most.

We were moving and that was the only thing I was focused on. There was something about this place I couldn’t leave behind. Was it the kindness that bounced around the town? Or the fact that I had made friends so quickly? Everything seemed too good to be true. There was one thing that I was sure of, though. The forest. What was it about the way you could hear the wind playing tag between the branches of the trees. Why were the trees that towered above me so intriguing? There was only one answer to my questions. I would spend a night in the maze of trees and see for myself what everyone was so afraid of. It was the perfect plan. It would prevent my parents from signing the papers on our new house and I would get the opportunity to quench the thirst of curiosity that continued to tug at the back of my mind.

A week later, I had gathered my supplies and set my alarm for 3:00 a.m. I would leave in the quiet, early morning hours. I would have all day to explore the forest. Yes, I have thought about this plan for hours. I know what the locals have said and I know that this is what I want. This is one of the few things I have been sure about in a long time. Besides, I could take care of myself.

I avoided the wooden floorboards that only creaked when you tried to sneak around. It was like they knew exactly what you were doing and why. I opened and closed the front door cautiously, walked onto the porch that looked out onto our small town, and saw something move. The hair on the back of my neck jumped up and the wind that raced in the air flew right through me. I stared at the spot that I saw the suspicious movement for what seemed like hours, but never saw another sign of life. Why was I so jumpy? It could have been an animal, or maybe the bushes shivering from the wind.  Was I starting to regret my plan? No. This only made me want to follow through more. Just as I was about to take my first step down the stairs leading to the grass, a light turned on in our house. I took one look behind me, and rocketed off the first stair. I dashed through the front lawn, across the quiet street, and stopped in front of the edge of the forest. I took one look back at the house and saw darkness. I told myself that it was nothing. Did I believe myself? I didn’t know. The only thing that dared to hold me back was the thought of my family. Was this the last time I would ever see them? I had so many unanswered questions, but this is what I came here for, right?

I looked down at my feet sinking into the lush soil and hands hanging at my sides. I felt my stomach twist into a knot and my knees start to knock together. I looked back up at the trees looming over me like I was a little speck in their huge world. I looked straight ahead and felt my palms start to sweat. This was what I wanted. This is what I had to do. Why was I forcing myself into this. It was like two different people were talking to me at the same time, telling me two completely different things. What was that in the air? I sucked in the scent through my nose and smelled the essence that brought childhood memories flooding through my mind. I saw my Mom baking cookies and my Dad building a fire, like a movie playing inside my head. They both smiled at me and my Mom pulled me close. She let me try one of her cookies and I tasted a splash of vanilla. That was the scent that was floating through the air. What it just a coincidence that I smelled my favorite childhood scent at 3:00 am in front of the forest that the locals feared? Maybe. I remembered talking to one of my friends about the forest. She said the forest has effects on people. When she was just a child she noticed a boy, about our age now, who would sit for hours at the edge of the forest and gaze at it. He was here one day and gone the next. How does one get away from such a terror? They don’t. It’s an addiction. Something that haunts you forever.

I took my first step in and saw my whole world spin in circles. It was a blur of darkness. I fell on the ground, hit my head on a rock, and took a much needed rest for my mind.

The next thing I knew I opened my eyes and saw the soft grass leaning against my hand. I picked my head up and every object righted itself. It must of been early morning. The dew on the grass tips and bright sun gave me clues. I looked down at my watch and saw the date; Tuesday, June 6, 2008. I was out for 2 days. 2 days wasted. I stood up and took a look around. Trees were high and grass was low. The moss on fallen branches was a rich green and the leaves of the trees acted as an umbrella from the sky. In fact, that’s exactly what they were. The sky was nowhere to be seen, only the soft rays of the sun peeking through the gaps in between leaves. I brought my gaze down and saw the edge of the forest was gone too. I stood in the middle of a green ocean. I picked up my bag, grabbed a granola bar and apple that I had packed, started to eat, and began walking. I didn’t know which direction and I didn’t know how far. It’s a funny thing, when you’re alone, you start to imagine places, things, or even people. With the sun beating down on my neck and the small amount of water that my water bottle held, I knew that this was not what I thought it was. I’m trying to stay calm, but it’s hard. This is just the forest talking, isn’t it? 

Later that afternoon, I sat down and took a break. I looked down at my watch. I had walked almost 5 miles. I looked up and saw a boy standing in front of me. I shot up and slammed my palm against the pocked in my backpack that held the knife I had brought for protection. From what? What did I need to be protected from? Was my mind playing me again? Or was it the forest? I pushed my thoughts to the side and focused back on the boy. He looked just as scared as I felt and he was squeezing a small pocketknife. Even with his weapon in sight and mine tucked away, he never tried to approach me. We stared at eachother for what seemed like forever. Finally, after holding our battle stances, he dropped his pocketknife on the ground, ran towards me, and wrapped his long arms around me. I didn’t know what to do, but my first instinct was to get away. I squirmed and thrusted his body away from mine.

He seemed startled as he stumbled back.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, I...I thought you were someone else.” Who was he?  I didn’t know. He was tall, at least a head taller than me. He looked like he was strong and able to hold his own. He had blue eyes and shaggy brown hair. He picked up his pocketknife and turned away from me. He threw his hands in his face and stood like that for a while. Meanwhile, I watched him and wondered what was racing around in his mind. Maybe he was just...maybe he wanted...no. Nothing made sense. I focused back on me and thought about my family. This was the first time I had thought about them since I was at the house. The house. My home. I missed the way the sun rays would shine through my windows and the smell of bacon floating around the rooms on Saturday mornings. I missed the warm bear hugs I would receive from my Dad, the dinners my Mom and I would go to for a girl’s night out, and the movie marathons in our living room with both of them. They loved me so much and I felt like I let them down. I had to get out of here. This place wasn’t what I thought it was. This was a trap, far from a safe haven. I must have been thinking out loud because the boy was looking straight at me.

“You’re right. This is a trap, far from a safe haven. A trap,” he said.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I felt the same way you did. I wanted to know more. I thought, you know, I could come here and calm down. My parents are divorcing, you should know, and I couldn’t handle the yelling and fighting anymore. It was just me and my sister, Annabelle. She and I were in it together, so I brought her with me. We both took 1 step in and I blacked out. A few days later I woke up and Annabelle was nowhere in sight. For the past 3 months, I’ve been searching for her. This isn’t just an ordinary forest, though. I’ve seen places and things and people that should only be seen in our darkest nightmares. Seeing someone, well, normal for the first time in a few months is the best feeling I’ve had in a long time.”

After hearing his story I knew what had to be done. We would find his sister. We would escape this horrid prison. We would return to our families. We would come home. 

✻✻✻                                                                                                  
Sam, the boy, and I had filled the silence in the forest by striking up any conversation we could think of. We talked about our hobbies, the books and movies we liked, our families, and what our plans were when we grew up. We talked about where we wanted to travel, who we would want to meet, and where we would want to live. We learned so much about each other by talking, which kept us from going insane, and it felt like I was walking around with my best friend. What did I know about Sam now? I knew that he loved baseball. He loved everything about the sport. It was a part of him. He also loved the sound of the guitar. He didn’t know how to play, but it was the first thing he was going to do when we got out. He loved the way you could hear the sound vibrate through the air and the way you could make complicated songs just by pressing down on a string. He loved the books that grabbed you and pulled you in before the first page was over. He felt the same way about movies. He told me even though his family caused him so much pain, he wouldn’t trade them for anyone else. When he grew up, he wanted to be a heart surgeon. He wanted to save innocent people’s lives. He had big dreams when it came to traveling. He wanted to climb Mount. Everest, see the northern lights, and touch every ocean. 
Meanwhile, while I was thinking, Sam was doing the same, just about me. I knew this because he absorbed everything I had told him, like a sponge. He listened to me long and hard. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t heard a normal, human voice in over 3 months.

“What did I know about her? I knew that she loved to surf. She loved the way the water rushed over her toes as she skimmed over the blue waves on her board. She loved the way she could control it where she went and she loved the danger of it. She liked to read, just like me. She liked the books about adventure. She liked the books that were long and complicated. Unlike me, her family was glued together, but like me, she loved every member of her family. She wanted to be a marine biologist when she grew up. She liked knowing that there was so much mystery involved with the ocean and she liked hearing the waves crash onto the soft sand in the early mornings. If she could live anywhere, she would want to live in the green fields of Switzerland,” I thought in my head. I thought this was funny because her dream job involved the ocean, and she wanted to live in the ocean of grass. I entered back into my thoughts, “What was it about her that I liked so much? Was it the way that she knew what she wanted, or the way she could talk for hours about her dreams. I didn’t know why I wanted to know so much more about her or why I would steal a glance at her while we walked.”

We kept walking for days. It had been almost 3 weeks and it felt like we were walking in circles. Every tree looked the same and every morning started the same. We would wake up and pack our bags for the day. Sam was always awake before me. He was always ready to go as I was crawling out of the cocoon I had made for myself out of leaves. We were up and ready to go around about 7 a.m. every morning and set up camp around 7 p.m. every night. No, we didn’t walk for 12 hours straight everyday. We took a break for lunch. The typical bread and berries from plants were what filled our stomachs. We would talk, draw in the dirt with sticks or just sit and think about why we did this. We both knew why we went in and we both knew why we wanted to come out, we just didn’t know how. It wasn’t just confusing, it was frustrating. It was frustrating that we were wandering around without any idea on where we were going. It was frightening to know that we were lost. It was surprising that neither of us have lost our minds yet.