Nature's Revenge

Prompt: Write a story or poem about an adventure in the woods, for Writer’s Cramp.
Word Count: 965

Nature’s Revenge

         I was never fond of nature.  Oh, don’t get me wrong...I like trees and animals as much as the next guy, but moderation in everything, right?  That’s what parks and zoos are for, ya know?  Keep everything in its place.

         The whole thing started when I found this notebook.  I had to go out to this house we’re handling, check it out, see what kind of shape the previous owners left it in.  They’d croaked and their kid wanted to sell it off, so after he took everything out of it that he wanted, I went out to see what kind of cleaning crew we needed to get it ready to sell.  The place wasn’t bad, really, right at the edge of town...but the knickknacks and furniture had to go.  As I walked around, I realized that I’d left my briefcase in the car.  I looked out the front door, but I didn’t want to walk out through the weeds to get to my car any more times than necessary.  I looked around the cramped living room, and spotted one of those journal-type notebooks lying on the coffee table.  Perfect.  I grabbed it and flipped it open...blank pages.  I grabbed my pen and started making notes.

         Finished with the inside, I walked out to the back yard.  No fence, not much grass, lots of cement.  Could be a selling point.  Ok, check the side yards, then done.  But just as I walked between the house next door and this one, I felt a sharp pain in my ankle.  I jumped back and looked down.  One of those little white frou-frou dogs, growling to beat the band, and doing its best to rip my pants leg up with its tiny teeth.

         “Shoo, beat it!”  I kicked my foot out, and the furry little rat flew away, but bounced right back and recommenced chewing at my ankle.  Annoyed, I reached down and swatted it away from me with the notebook.  It was smaller than I thought it was, and instead of brushing away, it flew against the side of the house with a dull clunk, slid down the wall and just lay there, motionless.  Humph, I didn’t mean to hurt the little rat.  I bent over and picked it up, just as a little girl walked up, asking if I’d seen Kiki, her dog.  I hastily hid the limp little body behind the notebook, told her no and hurried off to my car, tossing the notebook and the dog on the floor.  I didn’t want it’s probably flea-ridden body in my nice clean car any longer than necessary, but I also didn’t want anyone in this neighborhood to see me dump it, so I figured I’d just drive over to the woods...close to here, and get rid of it there, no one the wiser.

         I drove about a quarter mile to the woods and parked my car.  Not wanting to handle the thing, I used my pen to scoot it onto the notebook and carried it in among the trees.  I figured I’d go just far enough that I couldn’t see out.  If I couldn’t see anyone out there, then they couldn’t see me, right?  But things went terribly wrong.

         Balancing the dog on the notebook, I walked in a ways, until it started to get dark.  Not that it was late – my watch said it was only 3:15.  But the trees were so big overhead that not much sunlight was getting through.  And it felt creepy in there.  I knew it had to be my imagination, but it almost felt like the trees were crowding me, looming in over me.  They felt angry.  Which I knew was silly, but I couldn’t wait to get rid of the rat, and get out.

         Finally, I tipped the notebook and let the limp little thing slide off into a pile of old, dead leaves.  I shuddered at the sound it made when it hit the ground, then I turned my back to follow the skinny path back to my car.  Confused, I turned completely in a circle, my eyes sweeping the ground, unable to spot the path, or even to see any footprints that I’d made coming in.  There wasn’t a trace of anything.  I was like nothing had passed along that ground in a long, long time.

         I took a deep breath to steady myself, and started walking back in the direction I was sure I come.  Nothing.  Even the trees looked different.  I was sure that I would have remembered that twisted old tree that split into two separate trunks about six feet up.  I kept walking, trying to find something that looked familiar.

* * * * *

         I’m not sure how long I’ve been in these woods, walking.  Only that it must have been days.  Every time I stop to rest, I find myself sitting next to a pile of old leaves.  A pile which is really starting to smell bad.  I know why.  It covers up the body of a tiny white dog.  I tried burying it once, but the next time I sat down to rest, the dog was right back in the leaves.  I really didn’t mean to kill him...it just sort of happened.  How was I supposed to know that the notebook was so hard?

         I started writing down what happened to me a few days ago, in case whatever’s keeping me here ever lets me die.  I don’t think it will.  Whenever I think I’m going to die of thirst, I find water of some kind; a puddle, or a small pool.  I’m always hungry, but when it gets to be too much, I’ll find berries or mushrooms.  But I am so, so tired.


“I DIDN’T MEAN TO KILL IT!!!”