Jenna's lower lip was trembling, and her arm was wrapped around Abby's shoulder. "It will be safer than the woods."
"Do you really believe that on the pier that can be seen on the other side of the bay, the lighthouse once docked on a boat is safer than in the woods?" I asked suspiciously.
"I didn't hear your idea!" She almost cried.
"Our old tree house."
We all turned to Aiden. "What?" Brett asked.
"Our old tree house," Aiden's brown eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Our old house is on Cranbury Island. This area has been built in the past few years, but it is still relatively private. More private is the tree house that Bess and I built together with my father when I was young. ... "
"Are you going to let us hide in the tree house?" Jenna almost screamed.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. She will ruin my temper, I am sure of it. "This is not just a tree house," Aiden told her.
"I don't want to die in the tree house," Jenna retorted.
"We spent a lot of time on it, it is more than just a tree house," Aiden insisted. "Actually, it is quite well equipped and suitable for building a tree house."
"We haven't been there for many years, Aiden, you can't know what state it is still in," I reminded him.
He moved uncomfortably. "I have been there recently."
When I opened my mouth, I was shocked. Aiden and I didn't tell each other everything, but we shared more and were closer than most brothers and sisters. We take care, love and protect Abby, but the two of us are closer in age and have more common experiences. Now that we grow up, we really like each other. Going to the tree house didn't sound like something Aiden would do. He was not a nostalgic person, and it definitely looked like something he would tell me.
I don't know if I was more shocked or more depressed, he didn't. I didn't ask when or why, and he didn't seem to want to elaborate.
"This will be a good place to hide. Then we can come up with a better plan."
"Cranberry Island is a good three miles away," Jenna complained.
"Then we better act quickly," Brett said, reaching out to hold my hand.
It was a tree house, and I still refused to go in. I was sitting leaning against a tree, my knees pressed against my chest, and there was only a forest around me. There is a stream thirty feet away. I can't see it, but I know its location from childhood memories. The sound of running water is like soft music in a still strange forest. The birds do not sing, and there are no squirrels running around in the woods. I am afraid that this alien’s magical ability to freeze things has somehow extended to animals. If they can launch such a large-scale attack, how can we stop them
I can only hope that our presence has scared the animals away, or they have not yet woken up in the early morning. I put my forehead on my knees, trying not to think about it, trying to keep everything out, but it's almost impossible. Aiden is right, the tree house is in good condition, even very good. I didn't expect the new homeowner to keep it so well. When we moved here from Cranberry Island, Aiden and I have yet to reveal its location. This is our tree house, and none of us can stand others playing between its walls.
Abby was too young to live in a tree house. She had been here with us before, but I highly doubt whether she remembers how to get here by herself. Abby has many advantages, but adventure and ingenuity are not among her many advantages. Only Aiden is left to continue the maintenance, and he has done a great job. I can't believe that he has been hiding things from me for so many years, but I have also kept things from him many times.
I raised my head and stared at the wooden structure thirty feet above me. It sits at the bend of the four large branches of a huge maple tree. There are three ways to escape the tree house, and two ways to enter the tree house. A metal ladder extends from the ground to a hole in the trunk. The opening is usually open, but if necessary, the opening can be closed and the ladder can be thrown away.
A rope ladder hung on the other side of the tree, the one closest to the stream. It can be pulled up quickly, and when we were young, we were repeatedly attacked by trolls and other evil creatures. The third and final exit is a metal rod, which has been rusted for many years, but still looks solid. This has always been my favorite way to leave the fortress, when we are eager to escape from imaginary demons that destroy our safety. When we were children, the escape exits were just for fun, and now I am glad we decided to build so many emergency exits.
I stared at the bottom of the fort, but I couldn't feel any movement on it. They must all be asleep. Even Bright climbed into the leafy pavilion, curious about this beautifully arranged fortress. I told him to stay there for a while. I was surprised that he really listened to me. He was scared for me, I could tell, but he seemed to understand that I needed to be alone.
But I have no doubt that he will be back soon. I stood up, stretched out, and walked to the edge of the small clearing. A few years ago, we cut the woods back and created a large play area and a nice path through the forest. The woods have occupied most of the paths. Just like the wilderness will retake everything that will be abandoned, when this is over, these things will be forgotten. The world will change, it has changed. Houses are likely to be a thing of the past; forests will regain lands lost over the years, and animals will become new residents. When I think of this, I shudder; when all this is over, there are still many places in the wilderness that need to be reclaimed. Even our body.
I hate my depressed thoughts, but they will not disappear. The pain of losing my mother will not make me sad. Now we stopped, and I was the only one left. I couldn't stop the flood of loss and memories from flowing through my body. The tears left no marks on my face, but the hollow, dry sobbing sounded through my chest, shrugging my shoulders as I embraced myself. She walked fast, they hadn't caught her yet. I kept telling myself that, trying to comfort myself with these thoughts, but it didn't relieve the painful knot on my chest.
This is not the trauma of my father's death. The loss of my mother is a shocking thing, yes, this whole thing traumatized my heart, but at the moment she died, I was not with her. I did not see pain and fear. I did not see her worry about me and her family. I did not see death blinding my mother's eyes like I did with my father.
I suddenly shifted these thoughts, and they only took me to places I never wanted to go. In a dark place, I was more gloomy and depressed than I thought. I walked to the edge of the clearing, wrapped my hair with my fingers, and pulled it. The honey's face is almost brown, stained with dust, sweat and residue from the antique shop. In order to take a shower, I am willing to give everything, because I can hardly bear my own smell anymore.
My last memory of this creek when I was a child told me that it was small. I imagine it will look smaller as an adult, but at least it still has some meaning. I looked back at the tree house. Small shutters were closed on all three windows to block the sunlight so that they could try to sleep.
I walked through the forest and pushed away the bull heather, vines and branches, and walked towards the stream. When I broke free of the woods and stumbled to the side of the stream, I shed more blood and sweat more. It is smaller than I remember, but it is also one of the most beautiful things I have seen in a while.
I hurriedly kicked off my sneakers and socks, and took off my dirty clothes. When I waded in and sat on the bottom of the rock, the stream was slightly above my knees. The cold water washed my hot and dirty skin deliciously. I closed my eyes and fell into the stream, letting the stream swallow me. I opened my eyes and stared at the outside world through the mist above my head. It was beautiful there, and the sky was clear and pure, like water flowing over my head. My lungs started to burn, but I stayed underwater, trying to pretend that the world looked perfect on the surface.
Unfortunately, I don't have gills. I broke free from the water, panting, trying to pour the water into my lungs. I'm not safe here, I know, but I can't pull myself out of the cool creek. This is the only trace of peace I have found in a period of time. I leaned my knees on my chest, put my chin on it, and closed my eyes.
It fell into the water and shook me up. I was dizzy by the surrounding environment. I stood upright, wiping off the wet hair on my face, and flopping in the water. I blinked to drive away the water stuck to my eyelashes, and quickly looked around the darkening woods. I don't know how long I have been sitting in the creek, but the sun is already very low and I have frozen stiff and started to look like a raisin. My skin is covered with red marks left by at least fifty mosquitoes flying on the water.
I stood up trembling, and flinched when my softened footpad fell on the rock. I walked out of the creek and walked staggering like a newborn pony, trying to avoid the jagged-looking rocks. When I reached the shore, I stretched my hair. The last thing I want to do is wear dirty clothes back. Unfortunately, I have no choice.
I tucked the smelly clothes back, and shuddered at the thought of it sticking to my skin. Now my skin is clean, and their smell is even more offensive because they engulf me. I don't care if this is wrong, I will find some clean clothes at night. I believe their owner will understand; if they are still alive, they might be looking for the same thing.
While moaning in disgust, I put on my dirty socks and stuffed my feet into my sneakers. "Do you feel better?" (to be continued) (end of this chapter)