As I walked through a deep, dark wood, the crisp leaves brushes fiercely past my ice cold face. Before I could wrap my red woolly scarf around my neck, the awoken wind stole it from me. I stood in the centre of the forbidden woods. I looked back, I looked left, then right. It filled me with dread. The only way was forward.
What started off as an ordinary Sunday morning soon turned into something I am struggling to repeat. As I am writing this now, my pen is trembling on the page, re-living what can only be described as a nightmare of all proportions. I bet you are wondering what poor person had to endure all of this, or maybe who would wear a red woolly scarf?
My name is Timothy, I am eight 8 years and 11 months old. I prefer to say nine, but Mrs Golland will have a fit because, ‘your maths is incorrect again Timothy’. In fact, Mrs Golland is to blame, she is the one who got me in this situation in the first place. I went to the woods, as it took a way the stress of school. Every Sunday I walked my dog Benji through the woods which backed onto my house. Ever Sunday we took the same route. However, I wanted to take a different route, just for a change. Everything seemed so ordinary in my life. Mum always moaning at dad for never being spontaneous, therefore I wanted to be spontaneous, do something new, something out the ordinary.
We always came to some crossroads, ever Sunday we went right at them. We always went right as mum said I was not allowed to go left until I was older enough. Old enough for what, I thought? On that particular Sunday, I felt older enough and I wanted a change, something to tell my class about on Monday morning. So, we went left… It was strange you see; it was as if the route on the left was an exact copy of the route on the right. On the right, two proud trees stood in the middle of the path, this was Benji’s favourite spot for sniffy to see if any other dog had been on our neck of the woods. On the left route, those exact two trees stood in the middle of the path, the same height, same colour and Benji sniffed them as normal. Everything seemed the same, I did not know what mum was worrying about.
Suddenly, I noticed that the weather begun to change, what was once a calm breeze turned into a hurtling Gail that rushed across the woods. Before I could wrap my red woolly scarf around my neck, the awoken wind stole it from me. I stood in the centre of the forbidden woods. I looked behind, yet all I could see was darkness, it was as if the woods had come alive, watching, and waiting on my every move. I looked right, utter darkness filled the air, crunching, banging, and smashing noises leaped out at me. I looked left, what can only be described as a nightmare of all proportions. The full force of the wind took me by surprise, lifting me of my feet, branches cascaded down onto the floor. Benji was now shivering next to my leg. I looked back again, as I had come that way, so surely that was the way out of this mystery. I then saw my red woolly scarf being sucked into the darkness, never to be seen again. I definitely was not going back that way, this meant that the only way was forward.
I scooped Benji up as quick as I could, I begun running out of this mystery. The woods continued to watch my every move, shouting at me. I was trembling but had to be brave. After all I am 9 years old. I ran quicker, I felt the sound of the woods following me. Then, I saw light at the end of this gloomy mystery. I was right, the only way was forward. With the woods behind me and Benji still in my arms I ran home as fast as I could. I could not wait to get back to my ordinary house in my ordinary life. Dad and mum were sat around the table when I fell into the kitchen as my legs could not take it anymore. I had to admit it, although I was 9, I was not quite old enough to turn left at those crossroads, and what is so wrong with being ordinary?