In The Woods by Nia Madden

It was loud again. It was always loud in Laurel’s house. Her parents were in the other room arguing, their shouting getting higher and more urgent by the second. Her brother matched their noise with his grunge music, turning it up a few notches every time their voices rose. Laurel tried to start her homework, but with the sound level and the cursing pounding against her skull, she couldn’t pay attention.

When the music and screams grew even more forceful, Laurel pushed open her bedroom window and considered screaming along, just to be part of the uproar. The deep red-orange color of the setting sun caught Laurel’s eye and stilled her. It hovered just above the woods as if it couldn’t quite bring itself to drop the final length. If she left the house and chased the fading light through the forest, the trees would protect her. The sun would only let her out of sight when the moon made its climb into the sky. She paused momentarily before crawling out the window and into the ascending darkness.

In the woods, she could be anything she wanted to be. No one could tell her she was wrong. She was a knight in shining armor without her older brother telling her girls couldn’t be knights. She was a princess without the people at school telling her only white kids could be royalty. She was a giant without her teacher calling her Thumbelina.

In the woods, she could show her true emotions and no one could question her. She could cry big, fat tears without her father asking her what was wrong. She could scream without being quizzed about where her anger was coming from. She could laugh -- for no reason at all -- and no one would try to figure out what was so funny.

In the woods, Laurel could let out all of her energy. No one could make her sit still and be a good girl. She could run barefoot through the mud without the pastor ordering her to go clean up. She could climb trees without her old-fashioned grandmother calling her “unladylike.” She could dance across the patchy ground without being laughed at.

In the woods, she was free to be herself: a smart kid with a big imagination. She could twist the shadows into ghosts, the mice into monsters, the puddles into magic mirrors. She could run and hide, laughing gleefully, thwarting dragons with her ability to walk on air.

Laurel leaned against a tree, taking it all in. In the woods, she knew she was safe. At home and school, she always worried, but here she was free. A tear trickled down her cheek and she swept it away with the back of her hand. The woods were everything she wanted, everything she was. They were wild and complex, constantly changing. They were dark and light, cold and hot, energetic and calm. They represented the release she endlessly desired.

In the woods, the last of the day’s light disappeared. Laurel jumped at the call of a raven overhead. A shiver rolled down her spine. The sun always protected her, but now she had only the moon. It was nothing but a sliver of white light between the tree branches. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. She could still see her house, but it wasn’t home. It never had been.

Bare feet pounding the damp earth, she ran.