As I inhaled the chilled morning air my lungs were bloated with oxygen, letting my body do its work I exhaled the now warm air. Out came a brilliant formation of clouds, like smoke from a cigarette it clouded my vision before dispersing into the autumn forest. As I heaved myself up off the dirt floor I felt my frail legs creak and whine as they carried the weight of myself. I practically grew up in this forest, fluorescent memories of children kicking up fresh leaves into a frenzy of amber and marigold, soaring up above the trees, carried by the gentle wind into never ending bliss. That was a long time ago, Oh how I miss the days, the days of youth where parents would tuck you in, the comforting mellow aura surrounding you as you realised that everything would be okay. It would all be fine. How I miss the days.
The autumn mornings were harsh but comforting, chilling breezes attacked my wrinkled skin as the forest rose from its twilight slumber and stood proud and tall in an inferno of yellow and orange, towering over all that inhabited it. Moving where my frail legs drifted me, through my ageing eyes I observed the brilliant streaks of orange, flecks of burning, fiery orange leaves flickering in the wind. An entire lifetime flashed before my eyes as I trod on crisp leaves on every step, but the marvel of the captivating forest would be broken by what I saw before me. Adjusting my sight, I made out a figure standing in the distance.
Still fuzzy through the clearance between us I shuffled forward, curious at what it may be but not expecting any more than a passing by jogger strolling through the autumn woods in the morning. As I shuffled closer it did too but at an alarmingly quicker rate. As the distance between us was severed, The finer details could be seen. Those details killed all chance of a jogger or even another elderly person like myself trying to relive his memories. It completely eviscerated all chance of what stood before me as human. It was no taller than myself, scoring a magnificent Tangerine pigment of skin with rust brown flecking off it. Humanoid in posture and shape, it was covered in dirt and moss, an ancient inhabitant of the forest. Its intent seemed malicious, even at the distance between I had no doubt of its intent. Hearing a twig snap behind myself I broke my gaze at the creature and snapped my head around, nothing. Realising the modality of my mistake I frantically struggled to look back to the beast but to no sight. It was no longer there. Standing in disbelief, I had simply put it off as a trick of the mind, that is until I felt cold, crooked mossy fingers slide up my shoulder and affirm themselves around my neck, grip tightening and evil emanating off its fingertips, anger pulsed through its ancient veins.
How I miss the days.
