I stormed out of my house.

Right before I slammed the door

behind me, I heard my mother yell something at me, but I was
too mad to listen to what she said. Anger boiled inside me. I just
need to clear my head. It was pretty dark outside already, which
was good because I like walking in the dark. It helps me clear
my mind. I’m walking with my head down in the forest that i’ve
been through a million times. I’ve done this many times and it
helps. My mother knows this and she usually doesn’t worry.

I look up to make sure I don’t run into anything, but then I notice something. It was kinda hard to
see with all the fog, but it looked like a wooden bench. My curiosity got the best of me. I walked
towards the bench and looked at it. The bench looked like something that would be in a haunted
house. It was very old and looked very rickety.
Why is there a bench in the middle of the woods? And why haven’t I seen this before? ​I ask
myself.
I wanted to sit on it, but didn’t know if it was sturdy enough. I slowly sat down and it made a
couple creaks, but it was sturdy.

I put my head in my hands and start crying. I wish I could just forget this situations. Why does
she have to be so mean? I didn’t even do anything wrong. All of a sudden I feel the bench seat
goes down and make more creaks. I lift my head and I see a boy. It’s really dark and I couldn’t
really make out his face, but I saw he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and black pants. It’s 35
degrees outside and he’s just wearing t-shirt. I see his arm and see a dark color. Is that a
bruise? The dark area isn’t really helping with seeing if it really is a bruise. He’s just looking
forward. He notices that i’m staring and looks at me. I didn’t even hear him come towards the
bench.

“Hello” says the pale boy. If I were to guess, I think he’s about 16 or 17. Around my age.

“H-hello,” I say not knowing what else to say. “Um who are you?” I ask.

“My name is Dennis Collins. I was walking and I heard you crying and I wanted to help.” he
quietly said. He starts to look down at the bench.

“Oh I’m Kathie Davidson and it’s fine, I’m ok”

“Are you sure? I can help.” he says looking back at me.

“It’s nothing, really.” I say looking down at my hands. I sniffle and wipe my tears away.

“You can trust me. I really want to help.” he says a little more shy. I don’t know why, but it
seemed like I could trust him. Maybe it was the sound of his voice or the way he said he wanted
to help. I knew he cared and wanted to actually help.
“I just got into a huge fight with my mom… again,” I say playing with the hem of my sweater.
“She started yelling at me because I came home late. I know it was wrong, but nothing is going
to happen to me. I was just hanging out with my friends and I lost track of time. I just don’t like
being at home because there’s nothing to do. I have no siblings and my mom is always cleaning
and my dad is always working. I just want to do stuff. Not be at home.” I finish saying. “She
doesn’t understand that when I’m at home, I-i’m all alone,” I sniffled “I hate feeling alone.” It
suddenly felt like a weight has been lifted off my chest. I never told anyone this because I felt
like they would’ve thought it was stupid.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I was alone most of the time too. Stuck in this dark room. It was
horrible. The only time I would get out was to do things. I don’t want to talk about it though. I
think you should tell your mother this. Maybe she’ll let you be out with friends more. Or maybe
she’ll hang out with you.” he says

“Oh. I hope everything is ok now. Thanks Dennis. I don’t know about me and my mother though.
She’s always cleaning or reading. I feel like I’ll bother her. I’ll still try though.,” I stand up and he
stays sitting down. I turn to him “Where do you live maybe we can hang out?” I suggest.

“Yeah that’d be cool, but do we have to go to my house? Can this just be our spot? We can
meet up every other day at 5.” he says. I smile and nod my head yes. We say goodbye to each
other and I walk away and he stays sitting on the bench. Once I got pretty far I looked back at
where the bench was at and Dennis was gone. I was confused, but shrugged it off and kept
walking home.

I make it back home and it’s around 11:30pm. My mom is sitting in the lounge chair by the
fireplace reading a newspaper. I go up to her and I see the front page. “Local boy Dennis Collins
is found dead in forest after being missing for 10 years.”

“Mom can I see that newspaper really quick?” I say. Dennis? How? What?

“Um ok?” she hands me the newspaper. “Is there a reason why you want to read the
newspaper?” she asks, but I'm too busy reading to answer.

The newspaper reads “Dennis Collins was kidnapped when he was 6 years old. Police and
investigators searched for him for 2 months, but no sign trace of him anywhere. He was finally
found in the forest 5 days ago and taken to a hospital where he was pronounced dead.”

I put the newspaper down and just think. How is he dead when I talked to him 10 minutes ago?
Am I going crazy? What’s going on?