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Goldie

Fifteen years later

M y parents had died the year before, a horrible accident that had left me alone in every sense of the word.

It had taken the entire time since then for me to come to terms with the fact that I would probably be alone for the rest of my life—to accept it. But as the days passed, I realized I enjoyed my solitude.

Taking care of my home, the animals, and making sure things were stocked for the winter kept me busy in mind and body.

I gathered my cloak and basket, and headed out of the cottage toward the tree line. Harriet, Myrtle, and Louisa, my three chickens, gave me a welcoming “ bwak ” as I passed by but, after a second, went back to pecking at the ground.

Daisy, the goose, gave me a loud honk in greeting, stretched her wings, and waddled away.

This little homestead was a labor of love, and I’d forever be thankful my parents taught me from a young age how to care for and tend to it. It was hard work, and by the time the sun set, I was exhausted, barely any energy left to even enjoy supper before I cleaned up and went to bed.

The air was chilly, with the promise of fall nipping at my skin. I pulled my cloak tighter, my boots crunching over the debris on the forest floor.

I had one job to do this morning, and that was to pick the pink berries that only ripened this time of year and grew by the brook deep within the woods. The same brook that held the most incredible, if not frightening and exciting, memory I held.

The walk was long, and the higher I ascended, the chillier and thinner the air became. And the closer I got, the clearer the memory of that night the bear-beast saved me played through my mind.

I broke through the trees to a small clearing, where the brook descended the mountain into the village. The sound of the rushing water and the scent of its cleanliness washed around me. I stood there for a moment just taking in the scene.

A small animal scurried across the forest floor somewhere close. A woodpecker was going to work on a tree. I stepped closer to the babbling brook, droplets of the icy water splashing on the hem of my skirting.

The pink berry bush was on the other side of the water, and I slowly made my way across the natural bridge of flattened rocks until I reached it.

It was several minutes after I crouched and started picking the bright-pink berries off and putting them in my basket that the skin on the back of my neck prickled.

Although every part of me said I wasn’t alone, I ignored the feeling as best as I could and kept working on cleaning off the thorny branches until my basket was filled.

Only then did I stand and turn around slowly, sweeping my gaze across the suddenly still and quiet surroundings.

A flock of birds scattered away from high above, and my heart started racing as that feeling of not being alone—of being watched—filled me.

I knew who—what—it was. I felt this same sensation for the last fifteen years.

The bear creatures watched me, as I knew they’d been doing all this time.

I shivered, very aware of the minutest stirrings all around me. The wind across any exposed skin. The way the lapping brook surrounded me. The fact that my body felt hot in a way I’d never experienced before.

Although my nerves felt shot, as they did every time I ventured this far out—to this exact spot—I also anticipated this strange sensation that consumed me.

After trying to swallow the thick lump in my throat and failing, I steadily—and slowly—made my way back across the brook to the other side. My heart was beating so fast by then, my palms were damp, and a tingling sensation settled right between my thighs.

But no matter what direction I scanned, I couldn’t see anything despite knowing I was being watched. From more than one direction.

I stood there for a moment and just let the feeling of them watching consume me. It was a heady feeling, one I had only experienced when it came to… them.

I exhaled, tightened my fingers around the handle of the basket, and started making my way back toward the cottage. All the while, that feeling of them close but still far away was ever-present, and I held on to it, letting it wash over my body.

I let it tingle between my thighs, tighten my nipples, and knew I’d find myself in bed touching myself as I thought the most obscene things about creatures that weren’t even human.