A frigid winter had come to rest upon the Northern town in Canada, without sight of passing. Temperatures dropped low into the negatives as icicles assembled on every slanted rooftop and leafless tree. Snow pelted down on this night, and porcelain flakes melted on the red cheeks of a young boy; known as Felix at school, but as a disgrace at home. He was kicked out of his home for the night because he stood second place in the school’s mathematics test. The world was an elaborate stage that he was being beaten on.
Now, out in the cold, he felt numb: not just because his fragile body shivered from the soft hail, no, but because his heart was heavy as lead without affection nor care. He had seen other children and other parents, how they laughed or were allowed to cry. Why couldn’t he do the same? Why was he subjected to such cruelty, forced to study late into the night just for his father to pronounce his hard work mediocre? It was unfair.
As evening gradually turned to dusk, and then to night, Felix could feel the biting wind on his skin, gnawing hungrily. The unforgiving snowstorm ravaged on, apathetic to the sight of the trembling boy bundled up in nothing but his pyjamas. He was utterly alone. Not a single soul was outside on this night. Curling up into a tremouring ball, his thoughts took a dark turn; he was abandoned, just like a doll that was no longer wanted. The stormy townscape was like a reversed prison, locked out in a place where he could roam free, yet could never be safe…
…so, couldn’t he just leave?
With his frozen legs, he stood up, like a splinter in the blizzard, and turned to face the forest. Always being told to stay away from it, for its hazards, only made it a more intriguing place: and what could be more dangerous than home? It felt more like a respite from the cold, a sanctuary where he could find solace. Numb steps he took, until he was at its border. Pine white with snow stood tall, like great guards of the woods – intimidating, proud. A few steps closer and he was under the murky shadows they drew. Venturing deeper he could hear the groaning of branches that the wind swept through, rustling leaves and shrubs, alive with decaying needles. The sky was hidden and the earthy scent of soil was all around.
For once, Felix felt safe. Despite the perilousness of this forest, he was far away from the place he called home, and far away from the watchful gaze of his father. He recalled his father calling the forest a ‘precarious area ’. Yet, squatting down in the roots of a tall pine, all he could imagine was how much more peaceful it was here. If he lived until morning, he would leave the town, travel far away from the harmful environment he couldn’t bear to call home.