Short Story – The Face of the Lost

Once again, I have no idea what story I am going to be telling here, but I guess we will find out! (Thank you, title generator!)

THE STORY

When I was in school, my favourite place to go was the river in the woods. I would sit at the base of a tree and do my homework, listening to the running water and birdsong, the rustling of small animals running through the undergrowth.

Sometimes, I would sit there, my school bag abandoned on the damp forest floor, and watch as the water made its journey, always travelling forwards, never stopping, looking back. It pressed on no matter what. If there was something in the way, an obstruction in the path it planned to take, there was no panic, no fear, just the steady flow as the water either went over, under or around. It wouldn’t be halted by anything trying to stop it, to divert it, but would let the flow take it where it needed to go – forwards.

I haven’t been back to the river since I moved away. It was a small town, and when it became clear that my ex wasn’t about to leave, I came to the conclusion that I would have to be the one to go. There were too many bad memories, of us fighting, screaming at one another, banishing each other to sleep in separate rooms. Listening to the sound of the door slamming shut as I cried, knowing he was going to her.

I remember going to the river before I left, my bags in my car, stopping by one last time to say goodbye to the place that had been my friend for my whole life, the one constant that did leave, didn’t talk behind my back, didn’t turn away from me. Didn’t cheat.

I had walked down to the water in the sweltering heat of the mid-afternoon summer sun, beating down on my head and bringing sweat to my brow. The earth had grown dry with the lack of moisture, and the powdered soil crumbled beneath my feet. The birds were quiet, and I heard no scurrying footsteps, all the animals taking shelter from the scorching rays. I listened for the sound of the river, of water trickling on its way, but I couldn’t hear it. The sound of silence engulfed me as I walked, the feeling of abandonment overtaking me. 

Everyone left me, eventually. With my ex, I was the one who took control, who plucked up the courage to look him in the eye and tell him that I was leaving, and I never wanted to see him again. He didn’t look surprised. Instead, he just nodded, only half paying attention, his eyes glued to his phone screen. I don’t think he thought I was being serious. 

When I made it down to the river, I stared in disbelief at the dry riverbed, barely a sliver to water still moving, pushing on with its last tiny burst of water, no drop going to waste as it moved along the river’s course. It didn’t have backup, it was left alone. I sat down, by the river, watching the small stream push on, not a thing to be hindered by anything. Not rocks in the way, or tree branches that occasionally fell into the water. Not the sun evaporating the droplets and reducing the flow.

It’s been years since I turned my back on the river, climbed into my car and drove as far away from this town as I could. I have a job, now, a husband who adores me and a daughter, Lily, who could bring a smile to my face on even the darkest of days. She sits in the back, her head resting against the window and a drop of drool sneaking out the side of her mouth. I watch her in the rear-view mirror as I drive, my eyes flicking back to her every few minutes.

When I pass the sign, welcoming me into the town I ran from, Lily starts to stir in the back. She stretches, her hand rubbing the side of her mouth and spreading the drool across her chin, rather than removing it.

“Are we there yet?” She asks, yawning, as she sits forward a little in her carseat. 

“Not yet, sweetheart. Nearly.” She looks out the window, taking in the environment as I stop at a red light.

“I’m hungry,” she announces, and I brace myself for the start of an ongoing battle. At least it’s not too much further.

“We’re nearly there, you have to wait.” 

“Do you have any sweeties?”

“No.”

“Pretzels?”

“No.”

“Grapes?”

“Why would I have grapes in the car?”

“Because you’re smart and grapes are yummy,” she explained and I stared at her through the mirror.

“Maybe Nana has some grapes, you can ask her when we get there, okay?” She nodded, seeming content with the answer for now.

I turned onto my old street, pulling to a stop in front of the house I grew up in, the house I had lived in since I was as old as my daughter. I stared at it, nostalgia setting over me like a sheet.

“Can I get out?”

“Just a second, I’ll come around,” I climbed out of the car and walked around, my impatient daughter already trying to undo the seatbelt holding her down. “I’ve got it,” I reached into the car and undid the belt, Lily jumping out of her seat and running towards the house. I closed the door, watching as the door opened, my mother intercepting Lily and swinging her up into a hug.

“Nana!” Lily squealed, her arms wrapping around my mother’s neck. “Do you have any grapes?”

“Grapes?” She looked at Lily with a look of confused amusement. “I might be able to find some for you.” She turned her attention to me, pulling me in for a hug. “I can look after her if you want to go down to the river.”

“Why would I want to go down…” I stopped, seeing the knowing look on my mother’s face.

“Go.” She turned back to Lily. “Do you want to see your Mum’s old room?”

Lily squirmed until she was put down and ran off into the house, my mother calling after her to take her shoes off first. The door closed and I stared at it for a moment, before turning around and walking back to my car. She was right, of course, I did want to go, and taking Lily on a walk through the woods, to look at a body of water, wasn’t something high up on the list of things that would keep her occupied.

The woods that I walked through were different than I remembered, branches growing where they weren’t before, and the path I was so used to was overgrown. As I made my way along the path, pulling my jumper closer around myself, I heard the sound that I was waiting for.

The water was gushing, leaping over rocks as it ran as fast as it could, its destination one it couldn’t wait to get to. I stepped forwards, crouching by the water and dipping my hand in, the cold water hitting my skin and slowly numbing my fingertips. I stared down at my reflection, at the person staring back at me.

 Last time I was here, the face of the lost would have stared back. Now? The face of the found.

Yep, story over!

I'm not going to ramble on for ages down here, because I have a headache and want to sleep. I hope you enjoyed the story!

Bye!