The Woods (story by Jill prompted by Jennifer's photo)

Jennifer gave me this photo as my writing prompt on September 11, 2021. I immediately said to her, "No, another body found in the woods story!" Why does my brain always go there!? But then I wrote this instead.

The Woods

I first noticed my eight-year-old daughter Elizabeth staring at the wood behind our house about a month ago. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then when I repeatedly began to see her sitting in the same position, legs criss crossed, staring toward the trees. I started to wonder if there was something more to it.

“Hey, Bean,” I said to her while eating lunch. “How was your morning?”

Her eyes darted from her food to mine, and her back stiffened. “It was good,” she said quietly.

“Oh, yeah?” I said, starting to feel a little panic rush through my stomach. “What were you up to earlier?” 

She looked down at her plate again. 

“I saw you sitting out back,” I said.

She slowly licked her lips.

“You can tell me, Liz. Is something wrong?” I reached for her hand and placed mine on top of it.

She looked at my hand, sitting on hers, and then slowly moved her eyes toward mine. She nodded her head a couple quick times. “I was watching for my friend,” she said so quietly that I wasn’t perfectly sure those were the words that had actually come out of her mouth.

I smiled at her, a little relieved. “Your friend,” I restated slowly.

She nodded.

“Oh. Well then. Which friend?” I placed my elbows on the table, folded my hands together, and placed my chin on them. I smiled at her. She was so beautiful—those blue eyes, staring back at me. That brown curly hair framing her face.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know his name,” she said.

“Well…” I felt the panic in my stomach again. 

“But he’s nice,” she quickly added. “He peeks out from the tree sometimes and waves at me.”

My body went cold. “I don’t think I want you to do that anymore.” I shook my head. 

“He’s nice, Mommy,” she said. “He just waves at me.”

“What does your friend look like?” I said, figuring I would check his description on the Megan’s Law website after lunch for nearby offenders.

She swallowed hard. “Well,” she said. “It’s sort of hard to describe him.”

“Just try, Honey.” I nodded and smiled.

“He has bumpy skin—it’s purple, a pointy chin, and three fingers on the hand that waves at me.” She laughed. “I’m not even making that up!” She laughed again.

I laughed too. Okay, I was on to her. She had created an imaginary friend, and the relief that I felt rushing over me was incredible. “Oh, Elizabeth, you’re something else,” I said. “Has anyone else ever seen your friend?”

She took a bite of her sandwich and shrugged. “I dunno, Mommy. He hasn’t told me.”

“Okay, well, he sounds very interesting. Purple, huh?” I laughed. Elizabeth’s new bedspread was purple. It was the color she was currently obsessed with.

She finished drinking her juice and set the cup down. “He is!” She nodded. “May I be excused?”

I smiled at my sweet, imaginative daughter. “Sure.”

She got up and skipped to the back door. “I’ll see ya later, alligator.” She blew me a kiss.

“After a while, crocodile.” I blew a kiss back at her and smiled.

I cleared the table and was standing at the sink washing dishes when I looked out the window and all the hair on my body immediately stood on end. 

A purple figure with bumpy skin and three fingers was waving to her from behind the tree. She jumped to her feet and ran toward it.

I ran for the backdoor and threw it open. “No!” I screamed as the purple figure took her hand, paused to wink at me, and then pulled her into the tree. I ran to the tree and pounded on it. “Elizabeth!” I screamed. I knew that couldn’t have just happened, but it did. “Elizabeth!” I screamed into the woods. And then I ran into the woods, but my precious girl was gone. 

I look up at the woman sitting across the table from me. “She was just… gone,” I say again.

She smiles and nods at me. “Yes, that’s how you always end the story, Emily. Elizabeth was taken from you by a purple figure, but it would be really helpful if you could actually let us know what happened to Elizabeth after she ate her lunch.”

I look over at the mirrors on the wall. “Why won’t you ever believe me? I’m not making that up. I swear.” I sniffle a couple times and wipe my eyes. “I wouldn’t have hurt my baby.” I put my face in my hands and then lay my head down on the table.

“Okay, well, we’re not getting anywhere right now. It’s time to go back to your room, Emily, and we can revisit this memory in our next session.”

I slowly pick my head up off the table and nod at her. Then look at the mirrors one last time and silently plead with whomever is behind them watching me to believe me. I close my eyes and shake my head as someone grabs my forearm and pulls me to my feet. I swallow hard and walk with them to my room.

—Jill Cullen (written 9.12.21)