by John Cashin

Created on: October 03, 2009

Wm. Cunningham

"This path sure is narrow," I say to myself as I hurry down it. It is bright tonight with all the stars shinning oddly close, but no moon to be seen. "I'm sure I'll see it before I'm done." I stop to stare up into the night. My mind seems to wander on nights like this. "Oh the path, that's right. That's what I was doing." I shake my head and give it a couple of hard smacks on the side, as if it would help me think more clearly. "Damn muddy path. Why am I going out in this wretched wet forest again? Oh that's right, I'm doing this for my two new friends" I chuckle to myself. "My name is William, but my two new friends call me Bill." I smile happily into the night. I stop for a minute to button my jacket. "Why do I have blood on my hands?" I start breathing heavily, my heart starts to race so fast that I can feel the blood rushing through my neck, muffling my hearing. My vision blurs. Colors are changing around me. The only thing I can hear is the blood pulsing in my ears. Everything goes black.

I open my eyes to see the moon shining brightly above me. I smell the stench of fresh, bile filled, vomit. I look down to see it on my blood smeared jacket. I slowly get up trying to steady myself on the slick trunk of a tree next to me. I whack my forehead a couple of times on the trunk of the tree. "There, that's better. Now I can be about my business." I continue my journey, running down the spongy path. "Why is everything so wet when I haven't seen a drop of rain?" I have to wipe the blood out of my eyes every few minutes. "It should stop bleeding any time now." I keep running.

"Finally I have reached the end of this hellish path." I run to my tent and grab the bag from inside. I sling it over my shoulder and run back down the path. The night is starting to cool. I feel the chill of a damp breeze on my sweaty face. "Whose idea was it, to have me running back and forth like this?" It seems like hours as I continue running and stumbling along the narrow path.

"Finally, I'm back where I started." In front of me is a moss covered cabin, with trees and brush growing all around it. You might not even see it unless you knew it was there. I lean over putting my hands on my knees to catch my breath. "It's time," I hear someone say behind me. I know that no one is there, but I turn to look anyway. I take a deep breath, filling my nostrils with the cold wet stench of the forest. "It is time." I walk into the pitch black cabin and light two lanterns that I

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