Annabelle didn't like wearing boyish pants. She liked to be dressed like a lady all the time.

The dirt path twisted out of sight and dissolved into the black body of trunks. The gigantic mushroom of leaves over the forest canopy consumed all the light leaving a rectangular box of pitch black darkness. From so far away it looked amazingly tranquil.

Sometimes the shivering leaves would stop long enough for one's breath to be heard before continuing its whispering, as though indicative of each passing hour like the strikes of a grandfather clock, like bed sheets scratching against the mattress under it when it's time for it to be washed, like the sound of waves brushing against each other slapping against the sand on the shore.

Annabelle didn't want to trace the dirt path into the forest. She didn't like the sound the forest made. It could be heard from the house. She's heard it all her life. She's hated it all her life too.

Dresses weren't suitable to move through the thickness of the forest where the trees grew too close to each other. The branches would tangle up into the hem of her skirt, the loose sleeves of her frock would get caught in the dry, cracking wood, and sometimes she would step on her own frock and fall over. No, she had to wear boy clothes. It was a good thing her brother was as thin as her. His shirt fit her perfectly, and so did the jeans and the boots. But that was to be expected. They were twins after all.

She needed to go to the city, to get more fertilizer for the plants. She needed to get new clothes too; she was getting tired of the two of her's. She also needed another gallon of oil to power the heating system in the greenhouse and for the electricity as winter would be coming soon and she couldn't count of the solar panels to work anymore. She would need to also find a way to carry all this and more the two kilometers to her house from the city.

And she needed to start by stepping into the forest.

"I don't want to go," She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and clutching the hem of the shirt. "Mom, please don't let them catch me,"