Trail Creative Writing

The forest had gone.... and the Witch looked much younger. Audette opened her eyes and had found herself upon a brow of white lilies. The shape of the shrouded old woman seemed changed. Having turned around, and opened her mantle to the tearing gusts, Meliza revealed to the young lady two streams of shinging blackness and smooth white flesh. Audette stopped in her tracks.

The sun was glistening through the tall, swaying pines. To the right of the trail, a gentle river flowed softly down towards the mouth of the lake. Walking across the rickety wooden bridge, I inhaled a deep breath of refreshingly crisp mountain air. The sun beat down on me as I made my way across the bridge and back onto the well-used hiking trail. The ambient sounds of chirping birds, babbling water, and the croaks of several frogs filled my ears as I made my way around the bend. As I entered the mouth of the forest, I could see my father standing in the middle of the path, glancing upwards, taking in the beauty that had began to engulf us. “We better get going.” he said, looking back at me. “There’s still many miles to go.” I smiled and turned, taking in one last view of the beautiful creekside. Then, with determination, we set out to finish the challenging trek we had started.

As I walked, the air of this haunted, dreadful and sorrowful land had sucked the life out of everything and roared as humanity began to disappear. As I carried on walking, I noticed that the small fraction of light was getting smaller and smaller, until it had been engulfed into a think black ash like smoke. Aggressively, the wind walked past the building with its cruddy feeling, blowing away all signs of life. Deeper and deeper into the land was a burning car door. The fire roared and crackled. The roaring and crackling of the burning car door merged with the aggressive air and created the loudest sounds ever heard on land. Growing darker, the skies made me feel nauseous. The fear of not waking up if a human fell asleep towered

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

The rain kept on hitting the top of my car as I drove down the old road, like how a woodpecker pecks holes into trees looking for bugs. The town of Tahlequah had really changed since I saw it last about 40 years ago. There were paved roads now and a bigger school. The small shops I remembered were now big Sears and Target stores. Busy people walked on sidewalks trying not to get rained on, and cars drove on, with so many miles to go. As I got farther out and the buildings started to trickle out into countryside, I noticed a new sound that rose above all the rest.

After a long mountainous drive, I arrived at my destination to embrace one of nature’s wonders in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park, Abram Falls Trail. Upon departing the car, a cool crisp breeze brushed my face and the aroma of bacon lingered in the early morning air from the neighboring campground. The narrow rocky footpath looked like a tedious adventure, however a gorgeous, vibrant array of red, purple, orange, and yellow wildflowers blossoming at the entrance made the trail alluring. Navigating the rocky, uneven terrain required sturdy footing, but the quiet stillness created a peaceful relaxing atmosphere. The lush pine-oak forest formed a green canopy of shelter above the trail, offering welcome cool shade, as vivid sunlight filtered through the foliage. A sweet honey fragrance permeated the air, as a stunning scene displayed a cluster of purple and pure white

After saying goodnight to Simon and Magnus, Clary quickly shut the door to the library. The hallway was silent and still as the ocean tide, she had heard Lilian call for her just as her best friends in the world told her their goodbyes for the night. Magnus had conjured up a portal which would take him and Simon back to the village where they lived. Simon lived in a simple but modest house, on the outskirts of town, on a farm with his Mother and older sister. Magnus however, resided in a small, comfortable loft just above the local clothing store.

After John harnessed the team to the wagon, he, Charity, and Charles loaded Uriah into it. She and Charles then headed to town with him. She left John and Martha Jane to watch over the younger children, with strict orders that they had all better be on their best behavior until her return. John was nearly twelve; she figured he ought to be capable of watching the little ones.

The clearing was quiet, it seemed lifeless. The Salinas River still flowed merrily near the hillside. The water was still warm from the afternoon sun, and still reflected a green hue. On one side of the river, the smooth foothill slopes still curved up to the strong and rocky Gabilan Mountains, and the other side was still lined with trees. The willows and sycamore branches still swung gently in the wind, and the leaves still created a green light within the space. It was totally calm and peaceful… but something was wrong. The air seemed heavier, and the sun seemed dimmer. No animals stirred, and everything seemed to be aware of a deep sadness. Nothing moved save for a small group of men standing around an unmoving figure.

The water, in her fiery glory, began her journey through the furrows and rivets that the forest floor had bestowed upon itself. Past the river and past the bramble- the water continued to flow. The sky never ceased her crying, only allowing

Weeks later, as Snowman stares into the familiar bright green eyes, he thinks back to what led him here, forgetting the fact that in a few moments, his whole world will be turned upside down.

Softly shuddering, the cliff trembles in terror of the thunder overhead, ocean water gushing in great geysers, azure foam frothing like the mouth of a rabid dog, eating at the base of the cliff. Lashing tendrils of smoke and ash, still smelling of burnt flesh began darting through the air. Black suffocating smoke from an old fire; little devils dancing in the breeze, the noxious fumes smothering all who stood in its presence. Thunder screamed overhead, small explosions echoing off of the cliff, the precipice teetering and swaying like a drunkard. A shock of light colliding with a tree on the edge of the forest, heartlessly spewing sparks; electric whips searching for new victims. The opaque bush igniting in flame, revealing the violet eyes

It was unclear what exactly woke up the small elf, maybe the unfamiliar sounds of horse hooves against the ground, maybe the bright sunlight shining through the sparse forest, maybe the motions of the carriage from the uneven terrain, or some divine forsaken mixture of the three. When she attempted raising her arms to shield her eyes from the harsh light, she discovered that they had been bound together, and rather tightly at that. 'Great,' she thought to herself.

Once they were there, the quarter-mile trek to their place had to be made. It was a small, circular clearing in the cone-bearing woods. The area around the fire pit was dirt, for safety reasons. On the outskirts of the copper-colored dirt were five large, round logs arranged in a circle for sitting. Just a few feet beyond the logs, the forest began again in copious amounts of vegetation and growth, like an untamed lion. That night’s weather was just right. The cool air was

Yet were being held down, giving a silent rhapsody of joy and grieving. Along the way fallen timber accompanied thickets of weeds. A lazy mist hazed my vision, making the horizon seem like one from a story book. The area was imperturbable, as if it was keeping a secret hidden deep within itself.