The Wavery Woods

The Wavery Woods

My name is Samantha O’Bryan, and this is a collection of my notes and observations from living five years alone in the Wavery Woods. Influenced by my transcendental forefathers I have come to the woods to think, to live, and to write; I have come to avoid distraction from both people and technology. It has been five years since I have seen another human. You may wonder how I have lived so long without commerce, considering it would be relatively easy for me to trek into town and trade my vegetables for clothes, blankets and meats, but I have no need for commerce, I am completely self-sustainable. My gardens are overflowing during the summer so I preserve as much as I can so that they may sustain me over the harsh winters and so far, this has worked. I am also a keen hunter with my bow and arrow, so I do not want for meat or hides to keep me warm. Like my inspiration, Thoreau, I have constructed my own simple living quarters, a small one room cabin with a bed, a desk, and one chair because unlike Thoreau, I have no need for more than one chair. I do not seek, wish, or expect any company.

Technology

           I am thirty-five years old, and I have never been happier. I feel…free. The tentacles of technology use to hold me strangled and gasping, but now I walk through the trees with zero distractions. I remember dial up. I remember flip phones, the iPod, Myspace, and then Facebook…I remember Netflix, and all of my favorite shows. But most of all I remember my smart phone and scrolling, scrolling…scrolling. I would wake up, walk past my bookshelf, make a cup of coffee, sit in my chair, and begin scrolling. Silly dog videos, makeup tutorials, pranks, people doing amazing things like rock climbing or sky diving, people sharing their political opinions that always seemed to magically align with my own… I’d begin scrolling at six and before I knew it, it would be time for work…where did the time go? Why did I not read one of my many books…why did I not write something? Because I was distracted. And who wouldn’t be? The big red button in my head that reads DOPAMINE was constantly being pushed, not unlike a rat in a laboratory pressing the orgasm button over and over until it dies. I was devoid of meaning. I did nothing hard because everything was easy. Sure, I was happy while watching the silly dog videos, but afterwards I was left feeling…hollow.

           My first year in the Wavery Woods was physically hard as I constructed my cabin and dug my gardens, but because it was hard my mind finally obtained the difficult dopamine my soul required, and so my angst that had built up in my chest began to slowly release. However, my second year in my new home was more of a detox. I found myself missing the easy fix. Instead of my books, I wished I could watch those silly dog videos. Instead of the trees I wished I could sit on my sofa and binge Netflix. But as I approached my third year, I felt my mind slowing. Soon, I could watch a cardinal hop across the snow and appreciate the little v shaped footsteps left in its wake. I could sit on the grass and feel the mud in between my fingers and toes and be satisfied. And now, I can read for hours, just as I use to as a child, or I can write from dawn to nearly dusk, which is something I never could have done in the civilized world.

People

           Ever since I was a child, I had trouble making friends. I never could say the right thing to the little girls in my class and inevitably they would end up making fun of me. My difficulties persisted through middle school and into high school, where things actually became much worse; not only was I a social pariah among the girls, but my raging hormones made me an easy target for the boys. I craved acceptance, and often times the only way to gain this acceptance was through sex. So not only was I a weirdo, but I was a slutty weirdo. When I got into college things became a little better. The focus seemed to be less on relationships and more on intellectualism, so I thrived. However, after university I was thrust back into the real world, and my struggles began again. I couldn’t maintain friendships in the workplace and often I heard my coworkers gossiping about my strange behaviors in the break room. So, if you are wondering how I can live five years in the woods without other people, let me tell you, people are too complex for me to enjoy, whereas trees and birds are calm and uncondemning.

Christmas

           It’s snowing outside, yet the sun is shining through the clouds causing the snow to twinkle like billions of tiny diamonds covering the land. I have decorated a small pine in my front yard with hand carved ornaments, and as I sit on my front porch, in my one chair, I smile contently. I have never been happy during Christmas, that is, until I came to the Wavery Woods. I remember the Christmas before my departure, it was a sad one indeed. I was sitting in a coffee shop, something I did often. It was a trick, a trick on my mind, for it was a way to be around people, but not have to engage. I craved love and acceptance, but didn’t know how to attain it, so I contented myself with merely being in their presence. The coffee shop was decorated beautifully with a large tree in the corner, sparkling and magnificent. It was warm inside and every time the door would open, snow and cold air would whirl in with the man or woman who would inevitably rub their arms and say something along the lines of, “Woo! It’s nasty out there!” or “Man! It feels good in here!”

           I sat at a table in the corner, sipping my coffee with a book held open in front of me, but I wasn’t reading, I was watching. I watched a man and a woman cuddling together in a booth. They were reading the same book. The woman would finish a page way before the man, but she waited patiently for him. Across the shop, a woman and her child perused the children’s section together. The child kept grabbing books and leaving them strewn about the floor. The mother calmly retrieved the books and placed them back. A man at the table next to mine was texting and smiling, every once in a while, letting out a laugh. Texting his wife perhaps? He had a ring on his finger, so that must be it.

           I hated them all. I hated their love. I hated the easiness of their interactions. But most of all, I hated myself, my lonely, miserable self. Why wasn’t I good enough for them? Why didn’t I have someone to cuddle up next to, or even talk to? Christmas magnified these feelings in me two-fold. If I was cold, I was cold alone. I had no reason to buy presents. I had no one to give me presents. I know that sounds selfish, but it’s how I felt. I often considered killing myself on Christmas, to ease into the cold darkness alone and unloved, but I never gave into this thought. I had other ways of relieving my anger and my sorrow. But it had to stop. I couldn’t persist. So, what to do? As I sat in the coffee shop, I pondered this…how do I end my misery…how do I end my hate…

My Solution and Confession

           It occurred to me all at once in a flash of enlightenment. I looked down at the book I was holding, Walden. I would go to be alone. No more misery. No more comparisons. No more distractions. Only myself and my musings. The thought made me smile. I would rid myself of them. Finally, I would be free.

           It was then that I looked up from Walden and I saw…her. She was beautiful, blond, skinny…happy. She sat at a large table with a group of other women. They were whispering loudly. Perhaps a book club? The blond woman was obviously the nexus of the group. Everyone talked to her. Everyone looked at her. Everyone loved her.

           I hated her. She was every girl who ever chuckled behind my back. She was every boy who ever fucked me and left me. She was every coworker who ever ignored me. She was…

           Leaving…

           I got up too. I put my copy of Walden in my bag and followed her into the cold. I stayed a good distance behind her, but of course she didn’t notice me…nobody ever noticed me. We walked three blocks in the snow when something beautiful happened. She turned left into an ally. I smiled and rushed to catch up.

           The ally was dark, in between two tall brick buildings. I walked silently behind her. Still, she did not notice me. My anger grew. I quickened my stride. She stopped. Had she heard me? Perhaps the crunch of snow under my boots? No, she continued on without even looking back. That was the action of a girl who has never had anything bad happen to her. She trusted the world. Her mistake.

           I pulled out my knife as I came up behind her. It was over quickly. I grabbed her flaxen hair and pulled back, exposing her long neck. With one swift motion and before she could scream, I slashed my knife across her neck. Bright ruby blood sprayed forth, splattering the white snow. I remember thinking that it was beautiful, something a painter would marvel at. The woman crumbled at my feet. For a moment, as she desperately tried to hold together the chasm that ran across her neck, she looked me in the eyes. I smiled at her as my hatred for her dissipated.

           “We’re even, now,” I said as I reached down and pulled a jade ring from her finger.

           I left her there and returned to my apartment. I opened my dresser and placed the jade ring next to my other mementos; a wallet, a necklace, a scarf, a pair of glasses, a watch, and now…a jade ring…my memories from the last six Christmases. But no more… I won’t have to hate anymore. I won’t have to suffer in my loneliness anymore. And so…I removed myself from society and I live deliberately in Wavery Woods.

A Visitor

For five years I have been alone, until this morning. I was sitting at my desk, writing my memoirs when I heard a light tapping at my door. Bewildered, I opened it to a teenage girl. She explained to me that she had ran away from home and had become lost. I invited her in and fed her my provisions. She told me of her life at home and explained that her popularity at school and the expectations from her parents at home were too much for her too handle. She too wished to live a more solitary and deliberate life. I watched the girl as she talked…her perfect face, her curly blond hair, and her sparkly blue eyes…no one could ever hate her. I listened to her prattle on about the people at school who adored her…about her parents who expected great things from her…and I hated her…

I’ve invited her to spend the night.