Waindale

d nowhere. Ones that have a bizarre history bubbling under its surface. I thought such places existed exclusively on television screens and in the pages of my angsty, young adult novels.

er just beyond the forest. The chilled coast reminds me of those many little rocks. When we would visit Grandma over the summer, I would flock to the beach but hat

ow, I can't help but scold young me for not begging to co

front seat. My eyes flock to her

rope hanging from one of the branches and my mind clicks to when we b

e clothesline, right? The one with t

ll and scraped up your knees. The rest of the trip you c

ks next to my Grandma's car—an old Cor

and breathe

i, then grab the stuff?

l. The brick flower bed stretched along th

dness! Loo

uddenly her soft arms are wrapped around me. "Hi, Grandma," I sing as

u, last time you were, what, this big?" She hol

" my mother says and rece

e on, come on, I can put on the fireplace

and grabs a plate of the lemon cookies I used to love. I t

school, dear?" Gr

very sudden, but I'm s

You know, it's the high s

iles. "Oh, yes. How can I f

t you tell

s another school I co

but you went to the high school just around the corner. You can walk

y mom tells Grandma. "This is a nice change, then, righ

d take ano

is sat at the end. Being in a house with no men won't be anything new, but living with Grandma will surely have its differences compared to

ecessities such as toiletries and school suppl

I'll be at a whole new school with new people and teachers and rules. There's something refreshing about it, though. They're changes I'm welcoming with open arms. It's not like I left much in California,

just a baby. It's like getting my ears pierced a

tching T.V. as she drinks her coffee. Old ga

She's on the computer, you k

her laptop on her lap. There's a mug of coffee on the wicker tabl

n the patio furniture. I sit and she shares

Waindale with the trees and

Now that we've moved, she's left the office job and is focusing primarily on her novel. It

go for a walk. Explo

because you can get lost, trust me. And d

is the best I can do for now. After assuring Grandma that I'll eat whe

ee Granda with an umbrella. "

, tha

ugly enough to stop me. I can finally walk through thes

ery now and then, but such sounds grow distant as I turn onto one of the forest trails. The ground is spongy, sinking underneath my feet. My eyes roam over the protruding roots

kles of deep blue through the green, and thankfully the path is taking me there. Just as the

hes as I hear the delicate noises of what I'm hoping is a rabbit. I cat

the dip but end up sliding on my butt. My jeans soak up the dew and dirt as I let out a yelp. I mutter a few curses on the forest floor and try to wipe the dirt from my hands on to tree bark. Of course, the ra

t jolt. I look back and try to assume that it's the rabbit,

s a dark thing lurks in the distance, only visible for a second. Spinning around, I claw my way up the hill and dash fo

the distance again—in fr

e ignites. I carry on through the trees and soon hop over the wooden fence and trample ont

, I'm charging up the porch steps and crashing into the kitch

I shout and franti

es the table and comes

d there was this big dark thing. I think i

ars here. I should call the town hall. Usually they

lose to you?"

e. It was behind me then in front of me." I can feel the sweat on my f

and heads into the other

o be aware of such things. There could be o

I need to shower.

floor. Hopefully they have a warning out in a few m

rt from under my nails, I can't help but contemplate all the possible outcomes of my