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Little Red Ridinghood Revisited
She lived alone, miles away from any other human being. Why my mother sent me to visit her in the middle of the woods is beyond me. Couldn’t she just visit her own d*** mother? I continued to skip down the path, basket in hand, my red cloak swishing at my heels. The sound of my footsteps of the warn path calmed me, the rhythmic step-step, step-step setting the beat for a song I hummed. The birds tweeted merrily from the high oak trees, and I pretended they were singing along. I heard a shuffle from behind me and slowed my skips to a walk. I glanced around me. No one was there. I knew I was just being paranoid; it was the woods, there were bound to be all kinds of creatures in there. Mother had given me advice to never stray from the path and do not talk to strangers, so if I just followed her instructions, I would be safe.
I started to skip again but I felt the prickly feeling on the back of my neck that told me I was being watched. I turned my head slightly to each side but could not see any possible threats in my peripheral vision. I stopped quickly and turned around, hoping to catch my follower by surprise. I caught sight of a bushy grey and brown tail disappearing into the brush. My heart pounded against my ribcage, my instincts screaming at me to run away. “I know you are out there!” I called to the forest
No one answered, yet I did not feel relieved. Even the birds in the trees were silent. A bush rustled slightly to my left and I whirled around in time to see a dark blurred shape race across the path into the bushes on the other side. I hitched my basket higher on my arm and grabbed the corner of my cloak with my other hand for comfort. The bushes in which the dark shape had disappeared shifted, the green leaves and ferns surrounding it whispering threats to me. I leaned closer, barely breathing. A pair of yellow eyes stared up ant me from within the bush.
I did not even pause to scream. I probably could not have anyway; my breath rushed out of my lungs as I ran as fast as I could. The tall trees cast dark, menacing shadows across the ground and I tried to stay in the small patches of light that manage to force their way through the thick canopy. The wind whipped across my face, carrying with it the tears of terror that streamed out of my eyes. I could hear footsteps behind me, the rhythmic waltz of a four-legged creature. I willed myself to go faster, for my body to ignore the screams of protest coming from my aching legs. I looked only ahead, trying to ignore the heavy panting from behind me.
I felt my stomach drop as I looked a few short yards ahead, where the trail came to an end in a wide, open clearing. Any predator would have a clear advantage. I screamed for my granny as I sprinted in the direction of her cottage. I saw her open the creaky wooden door and peer out from around it, her eyes widening in terror as she looked behind me. I sprinted inside and she slammed and locked the door, both of us breathing heavily as adrenaline rushed through our systems. I collapsed on the floor, sobbing and leaning against the door; I doubt I could have supported myself. My granny lowered herself beside me and stroked my hair comfortingly.
Outside, the little dog started yapping at the door. Granny pulled me up and we backed into her stone kitchen, facing the door as if it might blow open at any minute. She muttered something and I asked her to repeat it. “I hate dogs.”
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