Hylophobia

Rushing out the back door Cassidy could only think of now having to take the shortcut to school. The one that cut across the field behind her neighbors’ backyards as well as hers and to a narrow path through a small section of forest that led to the school. Her eyes scanned the tree line across the large field that seemed to be long-forgotten in the blinding gray light of the cloudy morning. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary but still her heart began beating faster with each crunch made by the frozen dew, and brilliantly colored fall leaves beneath her feet. Along with the slight murmur from the trees, her mother’s voice rang in her ears, warm but anxiety ridden, “As a girl there are certain things you should avoid… Never be alone, and never be out of the earshot of others.” The only thing she could picture when her mother’s voice played through her was the wooded area around the field: those densely packed branches abruptly stopping at the edge of the large expanse of grass that remained that beautiful emerald green all year long. She could only imagine being alone at the edge of the field only to be snatched up, and swallowed whole by those trees. So she had become accustomed to walking to school with her friend Jesse, but recently Jesse had contracted the flu from going out in the storm to sneak off to a party.
As Cassidy crossed the field the world felt void of life, only deepening her sense of fear, the dread was twisting and writhing further through her veins, the danger infecting every cell in her blood. As she approached the path, she grabbed the straps of her backpack as though they’d hold her to the ground, as though they’d prevent the forest from consuming her. Almost like it was protection from the darkness within the forest. As her foot stepped onto the path she heard a noise nearby. It sounded like the old floorboards in her hallway at home, that slow moaning creek of something moving which was once still. Almost like the forest had waited for her and began to awaken in order to shoot its eerie vines up through the ground and pull her away into the brush screaming bloody murder. So she began to run.
       She ran past what seemed like hundreds of maple trees which had faded into a dull autumn gold. She jumped and nearly screamed at every rustle she heard. She tripped and fell on every little black and grey rock that had been hidden beneath the carpet of leaves and moss. She didn’t stop for anything. She didn’t stop to rest. She didn’t stop to nurse her bloodied hands and scraped knees. She didn’t stop to notice the lush plant life or how peculiar it was for the leaves to remain on said plant life so late in the fall. She didn’t stop when she stumbled up and nearly fell on the incline at the slight curve in the tight path. She didn’t stop when the low hanging branches pulled at her hair. She didn’t stop when the overgrown bush clawed at her legs through her pants.
The forest seemed to be closing in around her. It grabbed at her calf muscles. It grazed her thighs. It tugged on and tore up her clothes. It gripped her arms with such vicious determination it ripped through her heavy jacket. The forest had come to life to engulf Cassidy just as she’d imagined: just as she had feared. It dragged her down to the cold, unforgiving ground. It hauled her into the brush. It spread fingerlike roots and vines over her body. They twisted around her. They began to cocoon her. They shot up from the ground and bound her to the forest floor. The moss slowly began growing on her skin. She gasped for breath. She gasped for that moist life giving air. It was thick with mold spores and that smell of earthworms and soil. She could taste it. Her palette became thicker with its taste with each dying breath. She screamed as the plants began to shoot up through her skin. She shrieked at the pain. She wailed as the merciless forest tried to bulldoze it’s vines into her ears, eyes, nose, and mouth, suffocating her. It tried to thrust itself back through her and into the earth starting with the easiest points of access.
  She desperately tried to cling to life all the while crying out for the help she knew would never come. She was praying to a god whom she’d never even worshipped for a rescue. She needed someone, anyone, to hear her anxious cries. She knew it was all hopeless though. Her calls were drowned out by the wall of trees that surrounded her. Her mind flashed images of her family, her friends, her short and sweet life. She wondered if they’d ever find her, and if anybody would even realize she was gone. She wondered what would they place in an empty grave as a memorial to the life she had lived. She pondered if anybody would question how she came to pass. All the while knowing nobody would ever know the truth of her horrific end.
Warm tears were escaping her eyes as she began sinking into the immense vegetation around her, the plant life that was no longer just plants but apart of her as well. She felt the bugs crawling on her skin and gnawing at what was left of her. They were feeding off what life she still had.
Along with the slowing heartbeat within her, Cassidy heard the earth moving, and the forest symphonizing at her capture. The trees reverberated loudly with the sound of triumph over her, as though they had awaited the day she would be alone. They vibrated in the harmony of her mutilation and destruction as though it had been plotted long ago. The groaning of the trees sounding joyous at their victory, reaping the reward of having succeeded. Her body was a trophy to the wildlife of the forest.
As she was succumbing to forest, her limbs became limp. Her drive to fight was gone. Her muscles ached. Her wounds burned with the dirt that was enveloping her. Her breath staggered then shallowed. Her heart began skipping beats. She closed her eyes and tried to cherish her last moments. The darkness entombed her. She became one with the forest, never to be found.
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This piece shows creativity in that I had never written anything like this before. I hadn't written something so dark, and creepy. The setting is the antagonist, rather than a person, which I feel will draw a reader into the piece because it plays off the relatable fears of being alone, and being forgotten. There is also the title, hylophobia, or fear of the forest. It is engaging in the fact that it is unique, it uses repetitive images (almost like a heartbeat) to really pound the disturbing images into the reader's eye, as well as it plays off of fears. This shows growth in that as I had stated before, I hadn't ever used the setting as the antagonist before in my writing.