First Night

The woods were dark and cold. I pulled the coat closer around me, ducking my head, shunning the glow of the distant lights in the house windows, keeping to the shadows. I kept walking; I knew where I was going.
A glance at my watch told me I was late. Why had I even considered coming? The note had been sparse, in barely legible hand-writing, deliberately disguised;


Not having the faintest idea who'd sent it – or how it had ended up underneath my pillow – I'd immediately assumed it was another one of Zac's pranks. Something like that wouldn't be beneath the little shit!
But now I wasn't so sure. Zac'd been fast asleep, mumbling happily in his dreams, when I'd silently crept out of bed and the house, into the now strangely forbidding woods behind the back gate.

"Taylor," was the word spoken out loud or in my head? Cautiously, I peaked over my shoulder. Nothing there; just my imagination. A tiny rustle in the leaves. I whirled around. Nothing.
"Hello?" I called. The sound was swallowed by the overwhelming silence. A twig snapped. "What the hell is going on?!" I shouted at the gnarled trees. They swayed in the night air, smiling wickedly. Through dulled, black eyes they watched me. What were they waiting for? Why not come to life and devour me now? I wouldn't resist. I'd be happy to leave this all behind.
"It's so hard!" I moaned, not caring that myself and the trees were the only ones who could hear me. In the absence of everyone else, I could afford to give in to my despair.
"What's the point? The smile's so convincing you've even got your own family fooled. They think you love it. That's what you want them to think isn't it? You should have been an actor Tay, one of the 99.9% that earn jack and are almost always unemployed. Then you'd go crazy from boredom instead of . . . of . . . I don't even know how to describe it! Exhaustion? Stress? Am I having a nervous breakdown? It doesn't feel like what I imagined a nervous breakdown would be like. Am I just slowly going crazy, full stop? Everybody wants to be famous! Anybody wanna take my spot? It's now officially for sale, lease or hire! I want out! I hate it! I hate it so much! The music used to be fun. Used to be; fame's soured that too. Is that why so many so-called 'child-stars' crack? Because they feel like I do? They say we can't handle it. We can handle fame, we just learn to hate it. Hate it so bad, we'll do anything to get out," I looked around. The trees still swung menacingly above me, waiting. The silence was pregnant with anticipation. I sat down by one of these enemy trees, for the moment I felt slightly protected by that anticipation.
"Talking to yourself is supposed to be the first sign of madness. Then I must be clinically insane! But I hate it. I'd do anything to get out," Why was I talking to these trees? They'd carve me up like a roast turkey and feast on my uncooked flesh. What were they waiting for?
A raw wind stung my face and nearly knocked me over. What the hell?!
I looked up . . . and froze.
"Holy shit!" I breathed. "What the – what – who – what are you?" the black robed figure said nothing. The black hood surrounded his face in shadow, the enormous sleeves covered his hands.
"I . . . I. . . ." subconsciously, I felt my fingers close around the cross that hung from my neck. Superstition wasn't something I suffered from, yet it was that breed of fear that filled my heart with foreboding.
"Silence," the soft, reedy voice sent chills down my spine. An inhuman voice.
Nothing, I replied, staring blue eyes wide.
"I come to offer you a gift," the alarms in my head were screaming. I wanted to run, to get away from this apparition, if that was what it was. Yet my muscles refused to obey. Curiosity. It killed the cat, it'd probably kill me too.
"Wh – what?"
"A way out," now I was listening. I was scared witless, but I was listening. "You want to give up fame, I can help," the alarm bells in my head were screaming so loud it nearly deafened me. I wanted to run. I wanted to get away from this psychopath who was probably going to abduct me. But I couldn't. What was wrong with me? The rebel part of my brain, under some kind of trance, answered.
"How?" I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was smiling. My hands were shaking, I clasped the cross even harder. What was this thing?
"Behold," he gestured with one arm back towards the house. What I saw was not my house, but another, strangely familiar. A girl was sitting on the front steps. I felt the breath catch in my throat. For a split second, everything disappeared.
All I could see was her . . . gorgeous . . . no other word. . . .
"Behold, your escape. Do you accept my gift?" my eyes flicked to the voice. The vision disappeared.
"Yes," the vision covered the lids of my closed eyes . . . so beautiful. . . .
"Done," I didn't hear the words, all I could hear was the tinkling sound of her voice. I didn't feel the bite, blinded by the sight of the immaculate creature revealed to me.
When my senses returned, I was alone.


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