The last boy stood Frozen, shaking, tremulous, unsure, and definitely frightened. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if he should do something, didn’t know if that flashlight he was clutching was strong enough. The campfire burned, indifferent to the situation. It’s waning glow made the woods seem so much darker, and him all the more afraid.
Behind him he heard the noise of someone jumping out of a tree, landing on the turf just as gently. The boy didn’t look back, simply waited for whatever was to happen, to happen. And then whatever it was spoke to him, and the softest, most cloying voice he ever heard. It enticed him with the sound only a mother could make. Soft, gentle, reassuring. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this, and couldn’t believe two words could make him shiver to his roots.
“Turn around” it said.
The boy answered, “no “.
“C’mon, turn around.”
“No”.
“You have to see this”.
“No.”
“It’ll only take a sec.”
“No.”
This went on for a while, and the voice never got angry, never raised its volume, just remained it’s sweet self. The boy, not knowing what else to do, continued to shakily answer no as he tried desperately to hold on to his wits, as well as his bladder.
“Come take a look.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please?”
“No.”
“C’mon, I promise you’ll like it.”
“No.”
“It won’t hurt, not at all.”
The boy suffered through a deep shudder at that. “No.”
“It’ll be fun!”
“No.”
Arid Testimony 