Be careful not to find stairs in the forest. (short story)

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by inkfurry

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It was just before leaving the inn. In a playful tone, the ranger said those words. I ignored them as I grabbed my backpack, and everyone laughed as if it were a local joke.

We left at 10:00 a.m., and the excursion into the forest was supposed to last about four hours. Nothing special, nothing crazy, just a walk along the classic trails surrounded by nature and its sounds. Anything to clear my mind of the events that had finally shattered my little bit of sanity.

Illness, death, and hallucinations had my mind and body completely exhausted, and the doctor fervently tried to distract me with activities outside the home. I took his advice, and here we were, on a bus headed to a stop at an old national park very popular for hiking.

The guide and the others began walking with the effusive, energetic pace appropriate for their age, while I lagged behind a little, breathing deeply and trying to just listen to the sounds around me: birds whispering, branches, and eyes cracking beneath the hiking boots of others for several minutes. I think I managed a slight smile along the way.

Two hours have passed, and we've stopped to eat a little and rest halfway through the journey. I dare say this was a brilliant idea. It's like this place takes away any thoughts that might bother you. I'll finish eating and put this little journal away, and I'll continue writing when we return to the inn.

I'm lost. I don't know how I got lost. I was following the group and it disappeared around one of the curves. Even worse, in my desperation, I strayed from the trail. The dirt path, eroded by boots from a few hours ago, is no longer visible, and all I can see is the forest floor, which only disorients me further. The surroundings seem to mutate and change.

To make matters worse, I can't remember my cell phone PIN. I don't remember the four numbers. This is ridiculous. I'm just nervous. I need to calm down and think things through.

HOLY GOD HOLY GOD this place is freaking DAMNED. The night has taken over, and the temperature is dropping. Soon, the dim light that remains won't be enough to write. Time seems to skip.

I haven't spent the night out of nowhere, the night passed again at dusk, this is ridiculous, time doesn't work like this, the world doesn't work this way, even my cell phone has less than five percent battery and it was full when I left the inn.

my clothes, my clothes have changed, my clothes have transformed, these are not the clothes I started this expedition in, I recognize them from old photos of when I was a kid, that sky-blue long-sleeved shirt I wore on Sundays along with shorts and suspenders, even my rough hiking boots have become simple shoes with Velcro straps, my body has simultaneously shrunk. In my backpack, I found a very strange device not long ago. When I press one of its three buttons, it only says low battery.

Mom still hasn't returned and I'm still in the park. I think someone used my notebook to write on because there are many pages full of scribbles.

Mom hasn't come yet, but I had a good time playing on the playground with other children. Some red stairs on some stones, but without a path, it was strange. I'm even sure someone had told me something about approaching some stairs, probably some teacher. I can't remember anything dangerous, I think.

My mom finally arrived and I heard her calling me from the other side of the stairs. For a moment, I thought they had forgotten me.

(thanks for reading)

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