Walking Alone

Nerissa Barrington-Haber

The path is long, and stretches out before you. A winding dirt road that cuts through the soft green fields. You may heave a sigh, and wish there was a cart to take you further, but you only have your feet. The dirt road stops where the green field turns brown. Something important is there, you’re sure of it. Pick up your feet and run down the road, never stopping to look at the scenery. If only your legs weren’t so short, if only you had more stride. 

When the grass turns to wheat and the stalks point to the sky around you, there you may take a break. Slow your pace and look around, the wheat stalks dance in the sun, shimmering like a head of golden hair. You could glance back at the field but instead you soldier on. Push yourself from your seated position on the ground and begin to walk again. The weat is endless and it outgrows you. The path weaves and strays until you are swimming in a sea of gold.

Where the wheat at last comes to a halt, it is replaced with corn. Stalks of corn, the same height as you. Follow your way through the maze, knowing that you cannot stop. The maze goes on and on, as you run into every dead end you can meet. 

Maybe you will be patient, and backtrack to the beginning. Maybe you will scream and force your way straight on through and out of the labyrinth. Either way, you will make it out of the maze. You will continue your walk. It’s too early to give up now.

A path of rocks is guiding you through a vast garden. ‘When did the path change?’ you may wonder. Ripe tomatoes protrude from vines and juicy grapes hang from the wooden arch above you. You realize now that you did not bring water on your walk, and it’s about time for lunch. A smooth stone bench is waiting for you at the side of a stream. At this point you tug a tomato from the vine and bite into its sweet red flesh. Kneel beside the stream and cup your hands. Close your eyes and scoop the clear water from the stream. Splash some on your face, and let it relieve you from the heat. You are now ready to continue your walk.

Push open the metal gate, and step onto the paved walkway. Cars speed by you, but you must continue. You must walk until you reach your destination, wherever that may be. Only you (dear reader) know where you are going. Close yourself off to those that try to stop you.

Through the paved walkway you can reach the end of the town. Ignore all those who yell at you to turn back. Past the town in a forest. Upon reaching the forest you let yourself relax. This is the path you know. Place your arms behind your head and stare up at the sky. Listen to the sounds of the city fade behind you. Listen to the pine needles and sticks, cracking beneath your shoes. You can sense your destination is up ahead. Leap ahead down the trail, before slowing again. Let your feet guide you down the path you’ve walked a million times before. Without sight, you skillfully dodge between trees until you feel the path shift once again.

The forest floor begins to rise into a steep incline. Let your curiosity lead you forward. An invisible string tugs you over the hill. An old tree sticks up from the hill like a monolith. Its thick roots wrap around a rock. 

Your fingers wrap around the thick vines and tug them away from the stone. Beneath layers of moss and lichen the stone is smooth. You run your hand over the grooves on the surface. This is no ordinary rock, it is a grave. Apprehension clouds your mind as you desperately pull the overgrowth away to read the name. The letters swim before your eyes, spelling a name you know well. Yours.

You scramble away from the tree as far as you can. A rush of wind picks up from behind you. You turn and feel your eyes widen. The forest and hills are fading fast, falling away into the wind. Soon the ground beneath you is falling away as well. There is no rushing river, no deep chasm ravine, there is only air. You are falling away into the darkness around you. There is nothing below or above. You have reached the end of your journey, now you can rest.

Nerissa Barington-Haber is a tenth grader at Canton High School and enjoys all forms of the arts. They love acting, singing, and dancing. They believe that writing is one of the best outlets for creativity.