The Footprints Part Two
Read Part One here.
I leaned against a tree; hot tears fell from emerald eyes. I slid down the tree into the icy snow. “What’s happening?” I whispered, half expecting an answer from the ghostly forest. I rested my head on the swaying tree for quite some time.
Finally, I got up and trudged along—still in search of answers. I needed to find someone who could help me. Soon, my nose picked up on the smell of burning wood. “A fireplace!” I thought.
I followed the welcoming aroma until I came upon a small cabin. I knocked gently, and an older gentleman answered the door. He had a white beard and friendly-looking eyes with a warm smile.
“Hello,” I said.
“Are you alright, Miss?” he asked, seeing the blood trickling down my face.
“Um, no, I can’t remember how I got here.”
“Do you have a phone? I need to call the police.”
“No, Miss, I don’t, but come in. I can fix that cut, and you can get warm.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I walked into his cabin; it was modest. He led me to a chair next to a wood-burning stove. I began to feel the cold melt away. He left the room and went into what I assume was the bathroom. I rubbed my hands together next to the stove. He returned a moment later with a first aid kit. He gently cleaned and bandaged my wound.
My stomach growled as I smelled a tantalizing scent coming from the kitchen.
“Are you hungry? I’m making stew.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He left for the kitchen and came back with two steaming bowls of stew. I ate ravenously. The cabin and this kind man almost took my mind off my non-existent footprints.
After I finished with my meal, I looked at the man and asked, “Is there anything strange about these woods?”
He looked as if he knew something.
He quietly said, “What do you mean?”