Cecelia Tabor
Leaves crunched softly under the tread of a slender figure walking under trees. She was alone on a quiet morning in November. The forest grew warm and bright as the amber sun rose in the sky. Many of the trees were draped in red and gold leaves, like kings and queens of olden days, with paths of yellow and orange arranged around them on the ground. If you looked closely enough, you could see the small imprints of light deer hooves and footprints of other small animals in the damp leaves.
She wandered through the trees, looking at the rich colors flooding through the woods. Her steps were so light she could have been a ghost drifting through the woods. “Around here somewhere…” she thought as she looked around the gnarled tree trunks. As she searched around, her breath formed delicate icy crystals in the air.
A twig snapped in the distance, and she froze. Her breath came sharply. She was naturally jumpy, but she thought she heard the muffled sound of unknown footsteps in the distance. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she waited silently in the shadow of a tall elm. After a few minutes, she moved away quickly, listening intently for any sounds of movement. But all she could hear were the leaves rustling and the birds chirping melodiously in the sunlight.
A few yards away, a man stood watching her. He was dressed entirely in dark greens and browns, blending into the background, becoming the forest. His sharp eyes followed her every movement, and he quickened his pace to match hers. There had barely been any discernible life in that forest so far, and he was disappointed; he had come out into the midst of nature for nothing. But now, the heat of the chase was on, and his eyes glowed with an inner fire of excitement. The man was of a heavy build, much larger in stature than his prey. As he tried to walk silently behind her, his boots squelched in the moisture of the damp earth.
The wind whistled in her ears as she ran. She had grown up in these woods and knew how to stay quiet and move quickly. She was frightened and did not stop for several minutes, her feet hitting the ground hard, leaves blinding her as they flew into her eyes. The man tried to follow but soon lost her amongst the camouflaging branches and bushes of the woods. With sweat dripping down his face, he threw his hat to the ground in anger. He had hoped to come home with something, anything. So, after a few minutes, he kept going, intent on finding her.
She did not stop running until she got to a small glade, where the sun warmed her back as it shone speckled through the leaves. “Here.” she thought. Relieved. “Here they are.” She grabbed a branch from a nearby tree that was covered in juicy berries.
The sun was directly overhead, and she began to retreat home quickly, back with the coveted prize. But then she heard a click, and a blast echoed through the still forest. The hunter smiled, delighted with himself and his prowess in shooting. He had hit the deer right through her heart. She lay in a heap on the leaf-strewn ground, her eyes blank and staring at an unknown point in the distance. The doe’s branch had dropped, and the deep red and black berries lay scattered chaotically around her. She would never again be able to bring home food for her beloved fawns or watch them play in the bright leaves. She could never prance in the field or splash in the lazy streams. Her footprints were to become indiscernible from the many fading prints of so many past fleeting lives of the wilderness, lost without recourse. The hunter, oblivious to this fact, gathered his prey and hurried home.
Cecelia is an artist and writer who graduated from Cedar Crest College in 2021. Her work is largely inspired by classical literature, nature, and folklore with a focus on gothic archetypes. When not thinking up new creative ideas, Cecelia can often be found biking on The Rail Trail!
When I went back to ‘The Chase’ (which I wrote in 8th grade) I felt powerfully connected to my younger self, who wrote it in a fever of environmental passion. I had wanted to show that animals have complex lives like humans do and should be respected as living beings. Today, over ten years, later, I still feel that humanity needs to respect the natural world, but I also think we have to embrace our similarities. In my rewrite, I hope to show more of a connection between humanity and nature, that we are still only looking to survive and are only a step away from the wild of the forest.
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