Never forgotten, But never Remembered | Teen Ink

Never forgotten, But never Remembered

January 15, 2016
By Tmills7 BRONZE, Duluth, Minnesota
Tmills7 BRONZE, Duluth, Minnesota
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
People are worth more than money


It was just after 10:30 pm on the 23rd of March as I looked out my large pane glass window down onto the hardening snowpack leading to wolf lake.  It had been almost two weeks since it has last snowed. This was followed by a week of subzero temperatures, but it seemed to finally be warming just a slightly. I decided to take a stroll down to the edge of my property that night. After being cooped up in the stale air of my office, it would do me good to get some fresh air. I had put on all of my outdoor gear and armed myself with my flashlight.  One thing that I had learned in the past few months away from civilization that it always pays to be prepared for anything. Because if something happens, no one...no one is coming looking for you.

I walked down the barely packed trail through the short maze of solemn and sturdy black pines. The trail curved through the undergrowth and down onto my beach, which wasn't much more that a few feet of snow this time of year. I took a moment to paused,  watch and listen. I watched the full moon growing brighter in the sky. It filled the sky and covered the landscape in its white rays. Before I stepped out onto the pack, I noticed a glisten in the snow a few feet away. It was a paw print. A foot aways there was another and another, they came from the lake and into the undergrowth. The neighbors and their dog had been up here last weekend I recalled. But this print seemed was big and more recent. No matter, if they are still up here ill go over and say hello I thought, as i began across the bay.

As I approached their shore there was no warm light greeting me and there didn't seem to be any smoke smell being carried down by the night breeze. I started up the barely used trail. When quietly an object darted from the snow into the woods just on the edge of my vision. I drew my flashlight over the nearby area. Back and forth I slowly fanned the area when, I saw just the faintest yellow glint by a nearby tree. I walked slowly towards the tree, flashlight in one hand and the other resting inside my coat pocket. I slowed as I approached the tree and cautiously peered around... nothing, there was nothing there except more snow. Before I turned a series of crunches sprinted around in the woods behind me, I swiveled quickly in search of the source. Something just really did not feel right. I decided to take this as my sign to leave, it wasnt worth it to test my luck that late at night. A quarter mile over the bay back to my cabin might as well have been across the state when I heard the ice shift from the weight behind me.This time it wasn't one something it was many somethings all following the scent of my fear. 

It was a beautiful night I remember, the trees laid still, blanketed in snow, the cold air filled my lungs and sank into my burning face as I sprinted across the pack that dreadful night. But there is and always will be one dreaded sound that made my eyes water, my hair stand tall and my brain scream in terror. To me it was the sound of the devil. Nothing up here during this time of year was more dangerous this far from home. It was the sound of footsteps crackling in the snow and hot breath bellowing as the first howl from down deep was let loose like a battle cry from my pursuers. 
I was engaged in a dead sprint, a total bodily fight for survival as I crossed that bay. Just before the shore I dove over the ice ridge and paused. I was stopped dead in my tracks with my back against the ice and head just below the snow. I listened. The only thing to be heard was the trees barely swaying in the breeze. Nothing else could be heard over my gasps for air. The warm glow from my cabin windows up the hill brought an unreasoning sense of safety. I sat there breathing and contemplating my next move for far too long. I needed to make it back to the cabin, once I was inside I would be safe, I believed. I sat up and prepared to move, but before I could I was floored by an echo. Like a newborn baby it was a chilling howl that rolled down the hillside. I had been too slow, my path was blocked. They were prepared and ready for me to come. They knew right where I was, how fast I was and what I could do. I was out match, outnumbered and out in the cold.
Seconds passed as I enjoyed what I thought to be my last few moments. Then I stood mustering all the courage and instinct to survive that I could hold. It was my fault for not putting the pieces together sooner and keeping myself safe. The tracks, the trails, the noises these past few nights. They knew everything they needed to know about me, this was their home. It wasn't about hunger it was about game to them. The deck was stacked  with my life in their favor, now it was my turn to roll the dice and try to survive their game.

I knew they were there, lying concealed among the snow and trees. So I waited, and waited. Minutes passed that felt like hours. Not a crunch in the snow or an unconcealed breath was let loose as I helplessly scanned the shadows. I sat there thinking of my friends, my loving family and most of all, why I wasn't dead yet. These moments reaffirmed that my captors were playing me like  a helpless mouse. They could have easily take me where I sat but why not have a little fun and make it interesting. They gave me some slight hope that I could survive. There never was anything I could do. No other open trains that I could possibly take and the next closest person was more than 8 miles away. As I said before, you are all alone up here.

I began the climb. It was an intense nerve shattering few moments as I crossed the tree line into the pines. Nothing moved, all that could be heard was the breeze through the pines. I inched further and further through the trees, nearing the cabin clearing. They all laid completely silent motionless and completely hidden. Then less than 30 yards from the cabin I caught the first glimpse of one of my captors awaiting my arrival.
  To this day the image of him laying there motionless transfixed on my movement will always haunt me. He laid there barely concealed if challenging me to take a closer look. His eyes glistened in the moonlight and his presence demanded authority where he lied. A growing urge to survive filled my stomach and worked its way up my body. It caused me to cool and shake, my mind screamed for me to flee… but there I stood, staring. Then suddenly my fear took my body hostage and uncontrollably forced me to run, to run to survive. I ran through the snow not towards the cabin but towards the trail leading to the road. I heard the thundering, booming sound of footsteps coming from every direction, converging on me. To my right, to my left and to my back. The last thing I will ever recall from the night was the sound of squealing and yips barely breaking through my own screams, as four dark shadows darted out of the bushes next to me. And then, out of nowhere I was stuck in the head, a sudden bash straight to the forehead removed every memory after that second. 


Until the next morning... I awoke in my bed. Sheets on, lights off, door unlocked. I never knew what happened but all I know is they haven't come back since.


The author's comments:

This piece was part of class writing assignment. It is an action- adventure as well as suspensful read. The inspiration for this actical came from my own experiences and some of the irrational fears that can occur all alone in the wilderness. This actical is told in 1st person recalling a past night. The ending, well you deciede what you think what it is after reading this piece. Enjoy!!


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This article has 1 comment.


on Jan. 19 2016 at 12:05 pm
Avery_Ziegler BRONZE, Duluth, Minnesota
1 article 0 photos 1 comment
I think that this is a beautiful work of art. The author really expresses the emotion well. I want there to be a squeal.