Bricks and Branches

Jillian stumbles haphazardly through the ghost white birch trees. Their shadows casting prison bars across the leaf-strewn forest floor, with only beams of moonlight to pierce the veil of darkness. She winces as crisp leaves and twigs crunch and snap under her feet. The breeze blowing just hard enough to elicit a shiver as it makes branches send more leaves spiraling down into her hair. She shivers again feeling eyes on her back, sensing she is being watched. She can hear quiet, sinister words among the whisper of the swaying trees. Freezing and standing perfectly still, still as a stone statue, she pauses. Dread builds up in her heart, her stomach squeezes with knots. They’re everywhere. They’re watching her. They’re coming for her. And for no discernable reason, They hate her.

“Jill honey? Would you like to hear a story?” Her mom slowly opened the door to find her eight year old playing tea party with her stuffed toys. Jumping up in excitement Jillian abandoned the tea party on the floor to hop into bed. “Fables again?” she laughs, her daughter nodding and squeezing her favorite stuffed animal, a fluffy yellow cow named Moo, in anticipation.

Jillian was a sweet little girl with short curly black hair like her MIA father and pale skin and blue eyes like her mother. She adored Fables and stories. Especially ones with cute talking animals. She loved animals and wished and wished for a pet, though their apartment complex wouldn’t allow it. She liked to imagine herself as a princess from the stories, that lived in a forest cottage and had little animals to play with. Every night her mother would read her a story and promise to read her another one the next. Until one night, for the very first time, she didn’t.

Her mother, Annet Polken, was a tired woman. Her straight, dark brown hair had begun to streak grey, the only sign of age to an otherwise pale, youthful face. Being a single mother and working hard to support herself and her daughter had taken a toll. Because of this she was always looking for a big break. So when she went into Jillian's room that night, instead of a story, she had great news. 

Annet’s mother had finally decided it was time to go live out the rest of her years in a Senior citizen center, leaving Annet and her daughter her small country home. Ecstatic to get out of the city and the dingy, overpriced apartment they began packing right away. Annet had already located a job near their new home and as soon as they could leave they never looked back. Certain they had found their story’s happy ending.

It is Autumn and Jillian watches as a colored curtain of leaves fly up as they drive on the twisting forest road. Crossing a bridge that goes over the stream she watches the hazy sunlight glint off the ripples. Her legs bouncing to the soft music her mother has on the radio as she props Moo up in the window beside her. To Jillian it felt as if the trip had taken several hours, but when they finally pulled up to their new home she thought she would burst with joy.

It was a two-story house made of red brick with lots of windows. Jillian was immediately reminded of the eldest pig’s house in the story of the three little pigs. It was surrounded by a dense forest of birch trees and had a large, crumbling, stone fountain in the front that didn’t work and was filled with soggy leaves. The forest looked like the ones from her stories. The kind that contains princess cottages, fairies, and happy critters.

With the last bit of sunlight her mother unloaded all their few possessions. Thankfully Annet’s mother had left her the old family furniture, so they didn’t have to worry about that. While she worked on this Jillian ran around the house, inspecting every nook and cranny. For the first night she slept on the same bed with her mother, intimidated by the building much larger than the apartment she grew up in. 

In the morning her mother had to go to work for her first day. Jillian was used to being by herself when her mom went to work but her mother’s rule had changed from “don’t leave the house under any circumstances” to “you may leave the house but can’t go far.” Jillian really had to fight for that one and gladly went exploring in the woods right off the bat. Taking her favorite stuffed animal Moo with her of course.

It was the first time she had been in real woods and not just the city park, the sheer number of towering trees filling her with awe. Weak sunlight filters through the leaves as she laughs, climbing over logs and skipping over rocks. Making sure to always keep the red brick house in sight. As she gets further she begins to falter, something didn’t seem right, though she couldn’t really pinpoint it. She continues on more cautiously before realizing what it was. It is too quiet, too still. Maybe it is because she was used to the noisy, flashy, city but something felt very wrong. There are no whistling birds, or chattering squirrels like she had expected. Not a single sign of wildlife. She reasoned it’s because her playing had scared any of them off, but she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling.

She quickly ran back to the house and waited for her mom. Deciding she wouldn't tell her for fear of being silly and that her mom would reason to not let her outside anymore. As the sun begins to set, lighting the sky pink and purple, she watches from an upper story window as her mom pulls up. With a sigh of relief she slides down the stairs to greet her, only realizing as she gets to the door that she doesn’t have Moo. She had left him in the woods.

The next day Jillian planned a search mission. Popping on a backwards baseball hat and putting on her overalls, she grabs a magnifying glass to look for clues and a small satchel to carry it. Heading out the front door she tries to follow the same path she took yesterday. Though she attempts to be much quieter the woods stay just as silent in return, without a single bird call to interrupt it. Stepping over the same logs and rocks she did last time she becomes very worried for Moo. Luckily for her it didn’t take very long to find him. Or at least his head.

She barely contains a gasp at the sight. The stuffed animal’s head had been torn off it’s body and stuck on top of a sharp stick wedged in the ground. Stuffing trailing around on the ground below it with no body in sight. She lightly brushes her fingers over it’s soft, yellow fabric and with a sniffle tugs the head off the stick and places it in her bag. At the same moment she hears laughter. Light, malicious laughter that comes from everywhere and nowhere. 

Racing back to the house she stumbles over roots eliciting only more muffled, evil giggling. The red house gets closer and closer but as she breaks out into the open she sees a fox sitting in the middle of the driveway, stopping her in her tracks. Picking up the nearest stick as a weapon she waits for it to run off, feeling like she will explode with fear and tension. It only blinks at her, cocking its head. It gets up and trots forward, stopping when she steps back raising the stick. Flipping its ears back it looks almost disappointed before turning and bounding gracefully into the underbrush. A minute later she hears a vehicle as her mom comes around the bend in the road, parking, and stepping out. 

“Hey look who got home early! Are you playing adventurer or something?”

Jillian didn’t want to go into the woods again the next day. In truth she was afraid. Who was in the woods? Who hurt her stuffed animal and laughed, and laughed, and laughed? She sat by the upstairs window contemplating this when she glimpsed a flash of red movement below. A fox, possibly the same as yesterday, sat in front of the house looking straight up at her. A little disconcerted by its presence she leans against the glass to see it better. Bang! She almost tumbles out of her seat as a large blackbird hits the window. flapping its wings crazily and scattering inky feathers everywhere before landing on the sill. Its beady eyes piercing into Jillian’s, as it begins to peck, peck, peck at the glass. Down below the fox paced intensely, with Jillian not knowing what to do. Then the bird starts whispering at her. Inaudible chatter that sends chills up her spine. Snatching the curtains shut Jillian regains her ability to move and runs downstairs, grabbing the broom by the door and peeking out of the large living room window.

The fox is still there but closer to the house now staring at her, knowing she is there. He wasn’t the only one that knew where she was at though. The blackbird along with another land on the sill pecking at the glass while a chipmunk and two squirrels climb up beside them, furiously pawing and scratching at the window. All the while they whisper. They murmur and chatter and laugh. Then a squirrel screams as blood splatters the window and it hangs limply in the fox’s jaws before dropping like a stone. The fox repeatedly leaps up, snapping at the animals with its sharp teeth and scaring them away. It runs back to the woods sitting on the edge of the tree line. Keeping watch. Her mother would be home soon and she took the opportunity to run out with the broom and a rag to wash off the window, returning back inside as fast as possible.

“Jill honey, why are all the curtains shut? It’s so dark in here…” 

She felt like she couldn’t tell her mother about any of this. Without Moo she was all on her own. She didn’t trust the fox. In fables foxes were bad guys, sly, greedy, devious creatures that could never be trusted. Still, everyday from then on he sat by the fountain where it seemed like he was waiting for her. After three days she climbed up on the kitchen counter, armed herself with a knife from the block, and leaning out the kitchen window above the sink, tried to speak to the fox.

“Mr. fox?... You are a boy right?” She asks hesitantly, only leaning as far out of the unscreened window as she dares. He nods in turn so she takes that as a sign to continue.

“Can you talk as well? Why are all these animals being so mean to me? Are you... trying to help?” she asks almost desperately and is trying not to get her hopes up, or get tricked. After a long pause he sighs.

“Yes. I can talk,” he begins, as he wraps his tail neatly over his paws. “My name is Ruse. I’m trying to help you because I’m the only one that can.”

“But why are they doing this to me?” I whisper fearfully. Because I know they are listening, always listening.

“Because they can? I do not know. Perhaps they think you are a weak prey and they are after your flesh,” he says with an unmistakable grin. At this she jerks back.

“Then how can I trust you not to be the same?!” Jillian huffs, gripping the knife against her unknown threats.

“You ask too many questions,” he answers, licking a paw delicately. Slamming the window she resolves to avoid him along with the others.

Her mother wakes her up in the morning with absolutely dreadful news. She has the day off so she wants to go on a fun hike together. Hoping the animals would leave her alone with a strong grown-up present she reluctantly agrees, not wanting to seem very suspicious. 

It’s a lovely sunny day with nearly no clouds and little to no wind. As they walk her mother comments on the pretty bird song and points to some squirrels scrambling up trees, even a rabbit hopping across the trail. Her mother doesn’t see the animals stop suddenly as if they were statues, slowly swiveling their heads to stare with their beady eyes as Jillian looks back. Then naturally scampering and fluttering off again as her mother turns around too.

She tried her best not to cling to her mother’s jacket. Ask to go home. Ask to move somewhere else even. She didn’t know if the animals merely wanted to scare her or had a more vile intent. These were not the jolly, helpful animals she had dreamed of. They were evil, and she was more a prisoner than a princess. It was as she was lost in these thoughts that she realized her mom had walked quite a ways ahead. She rushed to keep up but barely made it five steps before a large creature barreled out of the bushes next to her. Not a sound was able to come out of her mouth before everything went black.

Sirens. In the distance she heard the barely audible shriek of sirens. Her eyes needed to adjust to the dark but when she opened them she saw a doe standing a few feet away. Sitting up carefully she rubs her head feeling very nauseous. Jillian gazes around to see she’s in a clearing next to an old well made of large, broken bricks. Wobbly she stands up, using the well wall to hold her steady. That’s when she sees the well is full of bones, animal or human was hard to tell. Unable to comprehend the sight she backs away, clamping a hand over her mouth. The deer alerted by the sound stomps forward threateningly. Without a thought Jillian picks up nearby bricks and branches, hurling them at her captor. Twisting around she takes off into the dark woods by the light of the moon.

She didn’t think the deer had given chase but she hurried all the same. Tripping on a root in the process and hurting her ankle. The sirens had stopped but she headed in the direction she had heard them. She could still hear the whispering chatter of animals, but she tried to ignore it over her pounding headache. Suddenly there he was.

“Ruse, is that you?” Jillian whispers between panted breaths as she sees a fox sit, washed in moonlight, ahead of her in the middle of the trail. He nods and seemingly beckons with his tail to follow. Too tired and lost to question it Jillian limps after, giving in to accepting his suspicious offer of help.

Many minutes pass as she follows the white tail tip through dense undergrowth, brushing aside plants and spider webs. When they finally make it out onto the main trail she knows they only have a little more to go. Especially now that she can hear the sounds of multiple people calling her name, searching for her. She starts to smile because the nightmare is almost over, but that’s when a badger crashes through the bushes up ahead. A vicious looking thing with long claws and a big body.

“He’s old, desperate and hungry, we can take him Jill,” Ruse says quickly as she snatches up a rock to throw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Jillian whispers angrily, “We can run! I just want to go home.” she breaks off, sniffling as tears begin leaking from her eyes. Turns out they don’t have a choice as the badger charges forward in desperation, heading right for Jillian. Ruse rams into his side sending him sprawling across the ground, kicking up dirt and leaves. He shakes, charging again only for Ruse to pounce on his back and bite savagely at his throat and face. They tumble in a heap and the fierce fight settles soon enough, leaving the old badger slumped but breathing. 

“Now Jill. You need to kill him. Use that sharp stone you have there,” he puffs with labored breathing.

“But Ruse…” she pleads, tears streaming down her face.

“No! If you want the animals to leave you alone, if you want this to end, you’ll do it!” he growls ferociously. Scared she crawls toward the badger, holding the jagged rock so tight she thought it would cut her palm. Lifting it high she falters looking to Ruse who seems to grin sadly.

“I won’t be able to talk to you after this. Trust me you're not the first kid this has happened to and I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean Ruse?”

“The animals do this because we feed off innocence. It’s been a long time since we have gotten a meal. Some of us are very desperate,” he says quietly, gesturing to the old badger. “They like to scare their victims straight. Bleed your innocence dry and kill you. I… don’t want to kill kids believe it or not, and so I help them kill first.”

“Either way I’ll lose my innocence?” she gulps, her hands beginning to shake.

“Yes, but this way you don’t pay with your life,” he finishes, staring her down as if he could force her hand. Staring back as if it were a contest she suddenly whips around, plunging the rock into the animal’s neck.

“I see her! There she is!” Annet yells to the nearby police as she rushes forward. The spotlights illuminating a silhouette in the trees of a little girl limping forward. Blood sprayed on her clothes, and a determined look in her eye. She was no little girl. Not a princess, a prisoner, or a child. She was Jillian.