Out in The Cold Night

Out in the cold night, Mama said that it was dangerous. That it is dangerous.  What could have been the reason why she was scared? A forest is just a forest. There are no monsters. No, monsters aren't real. Papa said that. 

I believe Papa over my Mama these days. Most of what she says are hard to understand. I can't even hear her. She was opening her mouth, moving her lips, but I can swear at most she was saying something, but none of us can understand her. No one ever could. Ever since that day. The day when she told me it was dangerous in the woods. 

Of course, I never listened. I donned my coat, sidestepped her and rushed out the front door in the eternal white. The wind was howling then, slapping my face, chilling my body and turning my breath into clear crystals in front of me. But, I was happy. This is the first time I was out of the house. Mama's screams died behind me as more and more howling filled my ears. I heard a thud. Looking back, I saw a dark shape by our door, but the wind stirred up snow, blurring my vision. Mama stopped calling my name. It was suddenly too quiet. Everything was still. 

I shrugged, hugged myself tighter and forged ahead. The snow settled heavily upon me, but I kept walking. I enjoyed it every time my foot sank knee-deep in the bed of soft ice as I put one foot in front of the other. Glancing at the sky, I figured it must be almost dinnertime. I have walked on for at least half an hour. My stomach growled, suddenly,, and I decided to come back home. 

Thinking back, I would almost say Mama was lying. The woods isn't even dangerous. I haven't seen any monsters that tried to eat me. No one even bothered me as I turned around and went back. 

There were voices shouting when I saw my house again. Everything was still, the snow making gentle patters against our roof. Everything was fine. But, those screams sounds like Papa. I wonder what happened. I ran inside. 

Papa had his back into me, cradling something in his arms. I thought it must be the puppy I was pestering him to buy me. But, puppies doesn't have long legs. Puppies doesn't have long dark hair. Puppies doesn't have limp hands. Papa was crying, saying Mama's name over and over. I wonder what happened. I ran to him. 

That was the first time I saw peace in Mama's face. She was beautiful, with her eyes closed, her lips pressed together. She was peaceful. I wonder why Papa was crying. I don't know why he would cry over Mama sleeping.

I reached out and touched his shoulder. He flinched then relaxed when he realized it was me, his daughter. He looked at me then back at Mama and asked me with a hoarse voice. 

Where were you? He had asked. I was too scared to answer. He had never growled at me like that. I began to notice the dark circles under his eyes and the tired hunch of his shoulders. I wonder what happened. I shook my head. Papa looked like he wanted to slap me. But he couldn't since Mama was in his arms. 

Where were you? He repeated. I was about to answer, to tell him the truth when Mama stirred. She woke up from her sleep. But, she looked different. Her eyes were wild. Her face was confused. She was looking at me like I was a stranger. She was not my Mama. 

Papa immediately helped Mama onto a bed, asked her questions and expected answers, but Mama just stared at him, at the open space, at the house, at the cold night that surrounded us. Papa soon gave up talking to her. I wonder why. I wonder what happened to Mama. So I try. I sat beside her on the bed and talked to her. 

Mama? I ask, touching her arm. She didn't look at me. Barely even flinched. 

Mama? I ask again. This time, she looked at me. But she said, Who are you? 

I wonder why. I wonder what the woods has done to Mama. Why is she like that. Why can't she see me? Why...

Mama never spoke to any of us after that day. Papa never spoke to me, either. But he dazzled Mama with his stories of the outside world. I tried to talk to Papa, but he never wanted to. I wonder why. 

Then, one day, I heard screams again. Thin, horrible screams that pierced my heart, my soul and everything that is inside me. It was of pure anguish. It was from Papa. I never heard him scream like that before. I wonder why. I ran to him, where he sat upon Mama's bed, sobbing. I wonder why. 

I ran to his side and saw that Mama was sleeping again. But why is Papa crying? She was just sleeping. She deserves a quiet atmosphere. I shook Mama, in case it makes Papa quiet down. Mama's hand slid gently from her stomach and lay limply on the bed. 

Mama.  I called. Papa raised his head and looked at me strangely. Was it pity? Was it anger? I wasn't sure. I was never sure, these days. But, I continued to shake Mama. 

Wake up, Mama. Papa is crying because of you.  I said. I don't understand why Mama would pretend to be hard to awaken. She sometimes did that when she wanted us to leave her alone. Her skin was cold to touch. She smelled funny, like it did when someone finishes their potty. But, she was peaceful. Surely all who sleeps are peaceful like that. Her face was painted white. Why would she even paint her face in sleep? I wonder why. What happened to Mama?

I faced Papa, who was staring at me with his sad eyes. Those eyes I only saw when Mama was sick. But now, it was more sad. It was more red. It was more wet. I wonder why. 

Papa, why wouldn't Mama wake up? I asked him, but he just shook his head and lowered it, sobbing once more. I wonder why. 

The next day, some men came and took Mama away. Sweet, peaceful Mama who was sleeping soundly. I tried to stop them, insisting that Mama was just resting, but they looked at me like I was a funny child. Papa held me back as the men marched towards the forest. The forest in which Mama claimed there were monsters. 

I hugged myself tighter as the men began to lower Mama into the ground. The snow was thick, but I never imagined that the ground below was even deeper. Mama looked so peaceful, she doesn't deserve to be buried in her sleep. I turned to ask Papa what was really happening. 

Mama is dead.  He said. The first words he said to me for months felt like a slap. 

I clutched his hand, ignoring the hardness that was creeping in my muscles. Papa, what is "dead"? I asked. 

Papa just hung his head and sobbed. I wonder why. I glanced at the men who had finished burying Mama. One looked at me with a weird look in his eyes. Was it pity? Was it sadness? I wasn't sure. I was never sure, these days. 

Death will overtake us all, sweetheart. He said as he and his men stalked off. 

That left me and Papa standing knee-deep in the snow, out in the cold night. And a cold night it is, because I never sensed the wind at all. It's just the sky. Me, Papa and the sky. I looked at Papa, squeezed his hand and asked. 

What is death, Papa?  He looked at me, the first time he ever looked at me since Mama started talking funny. He gently laid his hand on my hair. 

Death is a monster, love. Papa replied. 

I was shocked. The very thing that Mama warned me about overtook her. And I was at fault. I opened the door and let the monster in. And it ate her. Slowly. It was me. Everything was my fault. I let the monster in. 

I began to cry. Papa seemed shocked. He must have noticed my lack of tears earlier. It's all because I didn't understand. But now I do. I understand that it was my fault. I opened the door and let the monster in. 

I'm sorry, Papa. I wailed. Papa embraced me, the first time he did since Mama talked funny. I cried. 

I'm sorry I opened that door and let the monster in. I said, and Papa was shocked. 

Love, it's not your fault. Papa said as he stroked my hair again, the snow crunching as he did. Death overtakes us all. 

Does it mean the monster will get you too? I asked, my nose blocked from the cold. 

Papa smiled at me, the first time he did since Mama talked funny. He embraced me again. I will be with you always. Let's fight that monster together. Let us avenge Mama. 

But Mama was a liar. She said that the forest is full of monsters, but there is only one. She said that she will always be with me, but she was in the dirt now. She said that she will always be brave for me, but she let the monster eat her. She said she will be with me forever, but she's gone. Dead. I thought. 

I looked at Papa and I try to believe him. 

But Papa is a liar too. He said that he will be with me always, but death overtakes us all. He said that he will fight the monster with me, but he fell soon after. He said that we will avenge Mama, but we never did. He moved on, and he forgot her. He forgot how he promised that he will avenge her. But I never did. I never could. 

As Papa led me back to the house, the one who looks empty without Mama, I looked back at the forest. I will avenge Mama, but I wasn't sure how. I was never sure, these days. 

The forest behind me is not what's dangerous. There are no monsters there. The forest I need to be wary of is what's inside of us. Every tree is a shadow. Every shadow is a lie. Every lie is a truth. 

Out in the cold night, I realized that each one of us was dangerous. That we are dangerous. I knew the reason why I was scared. A forest is more than just a forest. There are  monsters, each inside of us. Making us loose hope. Making us give up. Making us weaker. 

This forest is more dangerous.