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Chapter One
Facing old fears

Life what a funny little thing, yes as whole and when looking deep into the bowels of the complexities, the riddled net of memories, the rollercoaster adventure of emotions, the intricate design of the human body, the uphill struggle to survive in any circumstances but on the other hand we're nothing but a mere spec on a spec of something so vast we can't comprehend. I've never so much as doubted whether there be a god a single creator. But when you think of the human life, it's quite the funny little thing. Someone or something must be laughing.

For years and centuries we lived by the rule, whoever had the biggest army could conquer, times hadn't changed so much, it's just the armies had bigger and better more destructive power and no single man who ruled wanted to sentence the world to that kind of destructive evil. So here we were in the modern 21st century. All living our busy little lives, the poor working twelve hours a day to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. The middle class watching ideally, still working on a supervisory level and the rich well, as long as the poor stayed poor, they seemed to get richer.

I always wanted to know about the future, mankind hasn't changed in millennia, I can't see it changing much in the many years to come. Where did I come into all this? Well I didn't, deep down I felt I should do, I should be doing something more, something great, something other than disappointing the ones that loved me, quitting, giving up on anything that I might accomplish and the more I think about it the feeling of being so much more must run through every nobodies veins, that's where I came into it, I was a nobody a nothing that didn't do anything for anyone or for herself.

"Catherine!" That was my mother; I'd travelled the three hundred odd miles up the country to visit my parents. "Catherine!" She shouted again, because I apparently hadn't heard her the first time.

"Yes what is it?" I replied, attempting enthusiasm but only accomplishing a whole hearted 'effort'.

"Catherine" Mum appeared in the door way and smiled. "Cat you've been sitting there since you arrived four hours ago." She was referring to the deep bayed windowsill that dominated the room, the window was a large old wooden frame, it was cold to lean on but staring out the window, thinking for four hours, numbs you to the cold, thinking of it just makes my spine shudder. "Why don't you come with me and your father to the social?" I looked over, tearing my gaze away from the outside. Mum looked older, I hadn't seen them in a little while, at least half a year. Her hair was greyer, maybe she just hadn't been to the hair dresser for her usual hi-lights. I play the idea round my head for a little while, me, mum and dad all getting along so well, rolling my eyes, like that's ever going to happen. i let out a subtle sigh.

"It's ok mum I'll stay here, I'm tired from the drive, I'm going to get a good night's sleep and I'll catch up and do something tomorrow. I promise" Deciding to add that on the end seemed like a good idea. Mum was convinced and without saying a word left the room. A few minutes later the mumbled sounds of voices coming from downstairs then the latch on the door clicking into place as its shut behind them. The distant sound of the car fades in the distant and now I can feel like i can relax, skulk back to my wondering mind and thoughts, I was lost in the world, always found something to do, something to quit when i got bored. First it was archery, then roller skating, then martial arts, then the odd dabble in witchcraft, I had a Goth phase, an emo phase, a skater phase, the new age hippy, all these things i never felt right. It wasn't that they made me unhappy just sad, just not me. My life had come to a standstill, i did nothing but sleep, eat and work, in some moments of free time i may hang out with mates, i might watch a movie or play computer games or even read a book, anything that would take me away from the world, the performance contracts, the formal meetings, the casual smart dress code, the work ethics, politics, news, wars, crimes and all the things that make our world what they are. So why not dive into make believe worlds, ancient history, fictional wonders and characters that leap and bound, fly and fight for justice and truth, but none of that existed. The more you feel like wondering the more you cut yourself off from reality and stare out at nothing you realize that a large part of you wanted the fantasy worlds to be real and the messed up reality to fade away, why are humans so bad at life? At being human? Laughing out loud in the silence of the house, you must be going crazy, out of our mind, maybe you needed a councillor or a shrink, maybe they'll lock you up in a padded cell, where you could live the remainder of your life away from everything.

"Now that would send you mad!" laughing again, "I'm now talking to myself, awesome! I 'am going crazy!" Throwing my arms up in a mere bound of sarcastic excitement "Yeah".

Settling my gaze back out the window, knowing one thing to be sure of, I hope that I will live just long enough to see the world change, to see the world grow up and do something wonderful.  Looking down and beside my hand laid a book, I must of read a thousand times, letting out a short snigger, and whispering out load, so only those that wanted to hear could. "What I really want is to stop being lonely." Still staring down at the book." And to be loved intensely to be held with feeling and to love back, to look into some bodies eyes and being one with them forever!" Sadness sweeps all over my body and tears run down my cheeks. Who am I kidding, I'm doomed to walk forever alone until I grow old, wither and die. Why had i decided to come here? It wasn't that i didn't like my mum and dad, it was just we were so different, so opposite it didn't matter a simple family dinner around a table could blow up into a pointless hurtful argument that always left me feeling bad when it shouldn't! Oh life could be so frustrating I have three weeks off work and I decided to come here, but the truth of the matter I have no money spare, If I could go gallivanting around the world to see its many hidden wonders and treasure i would, but sadly i can't so to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life I decided to get away from it all by coming home, coming to a place that as much as i might try to get on, to be as nice as possibly all it will take is one wrong word and it will all just get unpleasant. Not really knowing what time it was and already wound up by something that will inevitable happen but hadn't happened yet and how ridiculous was that, picking myself up and grabbing my leather jacket off the back of my old childhood single bed, I head downstairs. All the walls as white as white could be, old photos and pictures lined the walls, my parents decorated on a regular enough basis, its just that they always painted everything white. Used the same old furniture just every now again placed in a different location. Either to give the impression they redecorated or give the illusion they are capable of change and not stuck in the 1950's. Who knew, my parents were pretty hard to figure out, they stayed in there narrow minded boxes and were most defiantly not willing to change or accepting of the alternative ways of the world and people. They were good people, never been in trouble or had any debts or problems, I was clearly a huge disappointment, they wanted a grafter, a child that when they left school would pick a good honest trade and work hard and eventually get promoted and so on, however they got a child that insisted and stubbornly went to college, wanted to get a higher education and better herself and chances at a better life. At the time my dads favourite sentence was 'Colleges and universities are the governments excuses to get the unemployed off the streets!' Maybe he was right; I was stuck in a dead end job, the kind that if your face don't fit then you're not getting anywhere!

My rambling thoughts had lead my feet to the full sized mirror that stood at the end of the hallway next to the front door. I was now staring into this and staring straight back was the ghost of me. My long died black hair, not kept well, hung loosely over my shoulder and down my back, it never did what i wanted it to do, whatever you tried the hairs will was stronger and always reverted to its un kept straggly way.  I'd already slipped my jacket on, my dad had gave it to me years ago, he'd bought it in the 60's it had classic large lapels and was three quarter length, I like it cause it just covered my over sized but well. I had my favourite purple tunic on underneath and my black comfy flared jeans that sat nicely over my chunky trainers. I wasn't one for looks, I had dark patches under my eyes from lack of sleep, my hair covered most of the rest of my face hiding it from the world, knowing it didn't want to see it. I wasn't thin, but I wasn't overly fat, just round and plump. I suppose a little exercise and healthier eating would help, but life was shit so why eat it as well, the way I see it I might as well enjoy some of life's niceties.

Deciding to keep on moving instead of looking at a depressing self, I grab my keys off the phone table and open the door and shut it behind me. Take in a deep breath of fresh air and hold it in. The air up here always, naturally felt better, the surroundings, the landscape always, as much as it might be uncomfortably around the parents felt like home. My parents had always liked the quiet life, surrounded by the countryside, in a way it showed your dads human side, he loved to walk to be in the outdoors, that's what I'd hoped he did it for and not just for the healthy side of things. Turning myself around to the left and hopping across the round stone slabs that dotted the lawn all the way round the house and down to the bottom of the garden to an over grown fence that lead into the woodland that seemed more dense and thicker ever time you came to visit. I'd hopped across those slabs a hundred times or more, always ended up at the fence, always disobeying my parents and climbing over and wondering off into the woods, they worried in case there fragile little girl got hurt or lost but in truth I knew these woods well, as i grew older I became more daring more courageous and adventured and travelled further, found new wonders and new ways to pass the time, I rarely 'hung' with mates, never saw the point in just hanging around the town, it was dead, nothing to do, no youth centres, no super large shopping centres even the playground had left to rot and would probably be deemed too unsafe to be used. School was a 45 minute bus journey away and the only place I had to escape was the woods. Although the woods themselves now ten years on had grown replaced the old life with the new growth, everything seemed familiar, friendly and welcoming. Most people stayed away, the woods covered something like 200 square miles of northern England, they were left by development because the terrain the trees blanketed was harsh, rocky and full of hidden surprises, The odd rambler and adventure seeker had been known in the past to go missing but no more than any other place in the world. I must of been walking at a good pace for twenty minutes, my size elements may hold me back on a city scale block of flats staircase but here where I felt at home, I hardly struggled, every step, every foothold still existed as it did more than a decade ago. My excitement grew and for the first time in along time I felt happy, felt the thrill of knowing where I was, what I was doing. The trees, shrubs, fallen logs, although covered in a little more foliage, all belonged here, all seemed to greet me as I walked past another and another, all exactly the same. Another ten minutes past and I arrived at my destination without fault or floor. I had exactly four more steps before I came to my hidden wonder, my beautiful place, almost magic in looks. The place I spent hours and hours, day dreaming, imagining, and playing in my own fantasy world of mystery and magic. I step forward, placing my hand on an old silver birch tree, that hid all its glory of the silvery smooth white bark, under mounds of parasitic ivy, knowing that once i turn around its trunk that sat at the foot of a cliff, there's a small opening, that only a wondering child might find. Still dark, looking like it would go nowhere. I can feel my heart race faster in anticipation. Of course I'm a lot larger now, my butt at least twice the size and my breast somewhat larger than they were ten years ago.

Crouching down, moving my body to the side and edging forward carefully, breathing in, trying to organise bumps and mounds in a flat impossibly position. Slowly sliding myself through into the mouth of the crack, i feel forward and grapple the edge of the wall and pull myself forward. Carelessly getting my left foot stuck back at the opening. Winching as I pull it towards me, the knuckle of my ankle, scrapping the cold hard stone, it feels slightly saw, probably nothing more than a scrap. Ignoring that and focusing on not getting stuck i squeeze the rest of my large frame through and round the tricky bend to see daylight up ahead.  Inch by inch I make my way through the small crack in the cliff, Second by second I get a little closer to my own personal paradise, of course ten plus years ago I made it through here in mere seconds, always eger to get to the other side and leave the world far, far behind. As the opening becomes closer, knowing a few more tugs and shuffles will bring me clear of the secret tunnel, resisting the urge to smile and let out a small giggle in excitement, I close my eyes, grip the either side of the opening with each hand and pull my way clear, I stand straight up, ignoring the dull throb on my left ankle and take a good deep breath in. I can here the quiet delicate trickle of a small stream, the breeze making its way around the leaves, swaying them in a unison dance as there branches rustle close to each other. I can here birds twittering in the distance. Taking one last deep breath I open my eyes. My secret hide away, my magical place still lost to the world, still the same as ever. The site that greets me never failed to take my breath. Out stretched before me, right what must be the middle of the woods, lay a small valley, every side built up by sheer dark rocky cliffs, to the west a stream flowed off the edge, finding built up pools that its own centuries of trickle had smoothed out natural bowels and ledges, which it then gentle fell from one to the other until it landed into what you nicked named as a child 'cat's lake', which of course, was nothing more than a large pond, that seemed almost a perfect half a semi-circle and in the middle, opposite to the waterfall the pond narrowed off to gentle stream, that wound and curved its way across the valley to disappear under the cliff face.

The valley itself was home to many types of trees, from apple and cherry blossoms, to giant ever greens and large ancient oaks. Looking at where I am, knowing exactly where to take myself next, I carry on, wondering, asking myself if 'it' is still there? As a child and a teenager I'd roamed every foot of the valley floor, knowing most rocks and trees, even better than the woods themselves. But nagging memories at the back of my mind is that place, roughly what I can imagine to be the middle-ish of the valley, sat beside the stream was a small stone cottage. It was most defiantly man made, no one from what you could tell lived there, and why would they? There was no easy clear path in or out the valley, the only root you'd ever discovered was the small crack inside the cliff. 'it' looked as though it had always belonged here, as if this place was as much 'its' as it was mine. I never bothered going inside, i once tried to make it to the window, but my imagination and panic lead shadows reflecting off the glass into fear, I ran that night and never stopped until i was at the bottom of my garden, I never came anywhere near the cottage for about six months after that and even then I kept my distance.

Looking up and around standing at the bottom of a small inclined hill, various wonderful trees lined its surface, once at the top will be my peaceful place, Taking a large breath in and walking forward, making my way up, always careful to step around the over grown tree roots, never wanting to offend, after all if some vital part of my organ, my veins or arteries stuck out on the outside, I wouldn't want anyone standing on them, and how ridiculous does that sound? As I arrive at the top, my breath looses itself, my heart must of instructed it to stand still to fully appreciate the wild paradise that lay before me. From here I could see in every direction, every tree top and clearing, the winding gentle path of the stream that seemed to playfully run away from its source the half oval lake Cat that caught the waterfall that fell from high above. Directly in front of me the ground dropped away steeply, although I remembered climbing down that way many times, it seems the adult common sense and nerves had kicked in about five years ago, and the way down in front certainly was not safe to walk or climb down, the surface seemed like a loose dark sandstone, nothing you'd really seen anywhere else.  You imagination could work the rest out, you'd start to walk down, over cautious, the ground would give way beneath you cause a small but worthy landslide, toppling you over and over like a rag doll, until burying you at the bottom, suffocating you your body spasms uncontrollably whilst choking on nothing but dirt and soil, to eventually pass out and die. Over time, especially here no one will find you and your body will return to the earth and nobody would mourn your passing, well, shrugging my shoulders, maybe no one will mourn my passing and for now I only get to live once. Taking a few steps back, feeling my heart race in anticipation, the adrenalin, fuelling its reserves in excitement, with one last deep breath I run and jump. The solid ground I felt my feet upon, disappears below me, to be replaced by nothing, that all that stood or floated in between me and the 40ft drop that now started to rush towards me, but as usual the steep incline catches me. I land hard on my feet first to slam the rest of my body, thankfully my butt cushions the impact, the loose earth falls away below me, instead of rolling like a rag doll i slow to gentle slide, a beaming smile on my face and the sudden urge to run back round and do it again.

"Woo! " I shout out loud, in the real world, even with my friends, i had no self esteem or confidence to shout that out in front of them, but here, there was no one around to hear. "Woo!" This time a little louder and longer, nothing but my faint echo, bouncing of the valley walls answers me. A few birds fly away, I more than likely startled them, as I watch them fly away, wishing how lovely and what freedom it must feel to be like a bird and leave the world far away, far behind. As the birds flew past the sun making me avert my eyes away from the brightness, I realize that the sun had already gotten low in the sky, making its way for the full glory of the moon and to welcome in another morning for some far off lands on the other side of the world. Reaching down inside my jacket pocket finding my lighter and gentle and stupidly flicking the flame on and off, knowing full well that one of these days the inside of my pocket, especially the non-leather silky lining would go up in flames, either that or I'm going to bust the flint and end up without a lighter, which on the occasions of visiting parents almost amounts to a major disaster! I'd been walking for a bout ten minutes, the cliff i'd decided to jump half way down was now obscured by the tress, I was heading straight for the stream, straight for the cottage and I had no idea why. I had anywhere up to at least 2 weeks to stay and come here but from the moment I'd stepped out the car I needed to come here, to come and see the cottage, but why? If anything it had only been a torment, a deep down fear that lurked in the gloominess of the subconscious mind, a mere childish nightmare, but I needed to see it, and until I have, I couldn't possibly satisfy the curiosity, the drive to get here. Standing still abruptly, realizing that once again my gift to completely absorb myself into the depths of my very own mind, the cottage would be no more than twenty metres away, behind the cluster of trees that stood in front of me, the outline of the stone walls eerily silhouetted themselves in there shadows. Grasping my lighter in my hand and pulling it out. My left hand slightly shaking as I reach inside my inside pocket and pull out a bent but smoke able 'splif', a 'reefer', a 'joint, a 'duby' whatever you might want to call it, I smoked, I wasn't necessarily proud of the fact but it helped, I can imagine allot of people taking drugs of all forms used that excused, I'd never so much took, snorted, injected anything other than good old fashioned all nature grown marijuana. It really did help on a day to day basis, getting in from work and lighting up and forgetting the stresses and deadlines of the day, no more worrying of paying bill defaults and rent. It was just me; the joint and the numbness that let my troubles fall away. If only temporarily, plus it had a great upside, one that many a stoner boyfriend had come to appreciate, It seemed to sometimes on the right circumstances, in the right conditions made me horny, not just 'hey babe I want you come here and shag me horny' but it seemed to unleash something dark, something sinister that even I was ashamed or embarrassed about. I become someone different, no not different; it was still me but me from a darker place, a darker world. Every now again in these odd occurrences this darker me would awaken and take my body over and I would sit back and arouse myself by acting the way I was acting, now if that wasn't crazy, I don't know what is? Even now smoking the joint, thinking about my previous sexual exploits I was looking back at the memories, I feel I'm watching somebody else, a sexier more powerful person that even now was arousing me. Urgh! What was wrong with me? Taking a large drag on the joint, filling my damaged smoke ridden lungs full with smoke, holding it in until realising, breathing out a mere small fraction of what I had inhaled. It had been a long day, with a long drive. This had been the first good smoke of the day, feeling the marijuana doing its job, making my mind lighter, lifting many of the thoughts and issues, the thrill of the jump finally faded away. The sun was almost down, the days were still short so it wasn't too late. My parents wouldn't be home for a good few hours yet. Taking the last few good drags then pinching the end together, causing it to go out, winching slightly at burning the end of my thumb and instead of flicking the nub away, frowning in disgust at the thought of dirtying the un-touched valley, I slip the nib inside my jeans pocket, making a mental note to take it out and dispose of it before my mother decide they need washing.

Taking in one last breath and deciding that on the count of three I'm going to move forwards.

"One!" I say it firmly for the whole woods to hear. "Two. "

Nothing but silence, three doesn't seem to want to leave my lips, shaking my head in disbelief, taking in a deep breath "Three!" I'm pleased with the effort, however I'm seemingly stuck to the ground, my feet not wanting to move, my legs slowly turning into numb jelly. Why couldn't I move? All I had to do was to walk one step after the other, in less than thirty seconds I would reach the back end of the cottage, I'm 31 years old and I'm still scared. I'm still scared of the cottage, but why?
The entire beauty of the valley welcomed me and even now made me feel at home, so why can I not go near the cottage? Deciding a little more courage would help, once again reaching inside my inside pocket and pulling out another joint. Looking down all too please with the result, this little bit of courage in my hand still looked the way it should do. A lovely hand rolled, made with king sized papers, forming a perfect cone, finished off in a small delicate twist, ok I thought a few creases down the sides but it survived, surly this perfection of a master roller would give the strength to lift my feet and face my fears or at least let me stand next to the cottage. Now I decided, I sounded like a narrator to a horror movie. Usually in these circumstances my mind played the worst out in my head, but I'd long come a believer in the opposites, the ying and the yang, I always played out the worst case scenario, so therefore there must be a good outcome and in some ways by playing the worst out in the most theatrical way possibly, I would somehow come to know what not to do. But the cottage still lay ahead, the outline almost merged with the ever growing shadows of the trees. The sun would soon be behind the valley wall, many times as a child I'd sat and watched it settle, many times I'd made my way home, fearless of the dark, many times I'd had some comfort in the dim glow my torch had made and many times as a child I'd arrived back home and been in trouble for being home so late. This evening I'd not got a torch, no tonight I'd got nothing but my experience to navigate the woods, my joint and my light, neither which would give any comfort in the dark. Yet knowing all of this, here I was standing somehow trying to face an unknown fear, because to be scared of a cottage didn't make sense so I just had to go over there and find out what exactly 'it' was.

Ten minutes had passed, the clouds had grouped closer together, dulling the already dimming light, Not only had my feet rooted themselves to the ground, my mind had gone numb, no escaping reality, no over reacting imagination running bad shows of worst case scenarios, no fears or worries about the cottage that now due to the light had completely faded from view and the trees had huddled closer together indistinguishably from each other. Still no questions popped into my mind wondering what to do next? The logical solution would to be to turn around, which you believed to be plausible and go home before the woods became a dark hazardous journey home, Or I walk forwards, which may not happen without seriously coming up with why it's a good idea, but on the other hand I couldn't come up with a bad idea other than irrational fear. With the joint i held in the left hand still unlit, still perfectly formed, asking me to spark it up and be smoked, but that nagging voice inside my head said no, my frozen self wanted to smoke it, wanted to feel the inhalation of smoke rushing down filling my lungs up, curing me of the torment of my own problems, brushing them under the carpet to be picked up another day, allowing paranoia to twist itself around inside, free of chains, inevitably making me end up here, still frozen to the spot, granted with a few more thoughts to keep me company, I was daft to think I would be smoking pure hardcore courage, guiding my way to my deepest fears, instead it simply fuelled my paranoia that feeds my fear which has now stopped me dead in my tracks.

My heart thunders in fits and pounds, I must of lost a couple of breathes, the cooing of a not so distant owl startles me from my drowning thoughts.

Looking around in the direction of the owls coo's, knowing I'm being ridiculous I still raise my arm and kind fumble a half wave half salute towards the owls direction, not deciding quick enough what it was I wanted to do so only managing a clumsy combination of both. "Thanks!" I shout out. Feeling silly calling out to a bird, I put myself and my thoughts in line stare straight ahead and without effort and with complete ease I walk forward, My legs feel light and without a second indecisive moment I keep on walking, I mean, after all it's just a stone cottage, that was probably built early in the century by someone for whatever reason then decided to make their home in the centre of a beautiful private bit of paradise. Rolling my own eyes at my own thoughts, of course you would if you could, someone once was just like me, wanted to escape the world and live one with nature. Huh, I should do that, if I knew how that is and especially if I had that kind of balls to up and leave, live a life of solitude, what a daft idea, I really would lose my mind, the strange part would be I'd lose it to myself. Reaching the trees, did not take long, the cottage was now in site, I'd expected myself to give back in to the fear and freeze to the spot once again but I didn't, I kept on, I reached the outside, there was no windows or doors this side, only the couple either side of the front door on the other side. Still without hesitation and a little surprised at myself I reached out and rested my palm flat against the stone surface, it was cold hard and felt damp, without stopping, I let my feet and hands guide me around the edge of the building, more excited now, with the fear gone, there was nothing to hold me back, I was finally going to find the source for my childhood nightmares, finally understand in the middle of this secret mystical place something that up to a few moments ago was the black heart of the woods, but now I didn't care, now I was the powerfully Cat and not the cowardly weak Catherine. Still my feet laid the way, as if they had been here before, but that couldn't be true and then I was standing in front of the door. For a brief passing moment the everyday Catherine surfaced and paused my entire body but the more stronger curious Cat came back and simply without thought or pause for a heartbeat I opened the door and what ever made the Catherine inside me fear this place washed away. The cottage was made up from one single room, as a little girl, two windows equalled two rooms and for some reason that particular line of reasoning had stood and the only emotion that arrived upon opening the door and facing certain fear, directly into the face was the disappointment that there was only one room.

With complete confidence that there in, with held no certain doom or destruction I stepped in over the threshold with only un answered questions in my head. So what kept me away? Why all the nightmares? Why had I frozen solid unable to move because of a childhood fear that I came to face and it wasn't even here! Maybe I had finally snapped and lost my mind, and I'm really in some nut case asylum in cased in my own mind, concocting irrational childhood delusions and it just so happens today I'm here, somewhere that I'm not? Also slightly dulling my excitement was the clear fact that the cottage had nothing in it, nothing like I'd had imagined it to be, maybe a small rocking chair by the window, overlooking the stream, no table or little stove, no nothing, in fact no dust, no cobwebs, the wooden floorboards didn't look really old, i mean, they were smoothed down from many people walking over them, on closer inspection there were slight indents made from the slow pressure of items, furniture, even people that stood or sat in there day to day familiar usual places. The excitement started to build up from within side me, right up until the point a shiver ran through my spine and the same feeling I'd had since moving to the city, the same feeling of somebody or something following me, People, friends and family I'd dare mention this un easy feeling to, all simple fobbed it off, I was a country girl in a big city, it was only natural to feel like you were being followed, I'd even often passed it off as being a little too stoned. But here it was, i still held my unlit perfectly rolled joint, I hadn't sparked it, the first was one I'd rolled weakly so that I could spark it and on the drive here, that wasn't enough to make this feeling, I'd already faced the cottage so why did I feel like someone was standing, some presence stood watching me a mere few feet away, I knew if I looked round there would be nothing there, just shadows of the tress and the gentle flow of the stream, but still could not turn around, I would not turn around in case there was something there. Without knowing what my actions would lead me too, I stepped forward, not too far forward to impose on the empty room, just enough to reach out for the door and by stepping backwards I pushed the door closed. The room went very dark, became very silent and if possibly even more empty.  I exhaled my breath deeply, not realizing I'd held it in since the shiver up the spine, with the solid wood door shut closed behind me and my back firmly pressed up against it the feeling died down only to be replaced with the wonderment of what to do now?

Once again I found myself gasping at a breath and holding it in, something moved up against the outside of the door, it was only for a mere moment, nothing but a sound, but that sound, sounded just like someone brushing their hand over the door, but no one could be out there, could there? A small amount of panic started to surge, it all starts with that one small flicker, panic acted much like an angry mob, one wrong load mouth shouts out the wrong thing and the mindless idiots follow suit, before you know it one mans opinion spreads like wild fire until everyone is riled up and chasing after more than likely the wrong person, an innocent that happened to be in the way. Well panic starts as that small flicker until it rises inside to a quacking urgency that will lead any head strong person charging head first straight out the frying pan into the fire. I now could feel this flicker and it wouldn't take long to flare into the angry mob and make me do something stupid. Is this me attempting to calm myself down? With that word in mind the solution seemed obvious, I needed to put the small flame of panic out and the only way i knew how to dull my senses was still being held, although quite tightly in my hand, my perfectly rolled splif. Lifting up eager to stamp the flicker of panic out that even now the answer had presented itself still began to rise, the sound of the hand moving across the door only lingered in my mind fuelling the very fire I know strife to put out. Looking down whilst placing the roach end between my lips and cupping the light not to cause too much dancing shadows in fear something might become more apparent. I light the splif, again and again I fill my lungs up with pure natural weed, no tobacco in this cigarette, resisting the urge to cough, not wanting to alert anyone or anything to my presence, just wanting to be left here, alone in the dark with my splif, enjoying the naughty sins of life. Before I know it, I'm dragging on nothing but harsh cardboard and drop the nub in reaction to burning my lips with the hot smoke. Although for now I seemed to of quelled the flicker, into a small smoulder of panic, always ready to come back at the next chance.

Standing with my back still firmly pressed against the door, I shut my eyes deciding for now it would be much better to wait a little while before exposing myself to woods, the dark creepy woods that now held or was home to someone else, the tides had turned the once familiar paradise of the valley was now the unfriendly unwelcoming place and the scary cottage that I'd lived with the fear of for a decade and a half now housed me, made me feel welcome. What a funny world it is we live in.