Dangerous Creek For Balls / Chapter Three: Just Marston
Marston walked among the plants cautiously, making sure he did not step on any plants unnecessarily. The forest was a scary place. He had heard time and time again of stories about missing children and of monsters lurking here from friends at school. Yet, he did not know why he didn’t insist on not going. Probably because he was guilty of causing Robert’s ball to end up here.
Why didn’t I say no? Marston thought, shaking his head in the process. This is a bad idea.
Marston flinched, hearing a growl nearby. He was sweating furiously now. Another growl nearby. What is it? Marston imagined the monsters. This is scary. He was seriously scared right now.
Marston shrugged off the thoughts and kept walking in the direction of the ball. After walking about 45 minutes, it became apparent to Marston that the ball was lost. There would be no more use searching for it. He might as well go back now.
Marston turned around and let out a gasp. Behind him, there were only plants. There was no path. He did not know which direction to take. He walked nonetheless but after ten minutes of excruciating walking, he realized he was lost in the forests of Chisolm’s Creek.
“Help me!” he yelled in desperation. He was eight years old and he was lost. His luck was really bad.
Leaves rustled behind him. Twigs snapped. He turned around, anticipating the worst but he saw nothing. Only the empty forest.
“Who are you?” a voice suddenly spoke. The voice was loud, deep and ominous. It scared Marston. He didn’t even have the courage to answer. The voice asked again: “Who are you?”
Marston’s knees shook in terror. He could see no one but obviously he heard the voice. He certainly didn’t imagine it. Didn’t he?
Marston felt his knees weaken. His trousers got wet. He had just urinated in his pants.
“M…M…Mar…Marston,” he answered shakily.
“Marston, who?” the voice asked, ever ominous.
“Just Marston,” he answered, doing all he can to keep his voice level.
“Just Marston, eh?” the voice said, a little chuckle in voice. “Just is your first name?”
“No, my name is only Marston,” Marston answered shakily. “I have no last name.”
“No last name?” the voice said curiously. “You have no parents?”
“My parents didn’t want me to have their last name. They wanted me to be special,” Marston answered honestly yet naively.
“Why are you here, Marston?” the voice said, quickly changing topics.
“I lost my ball.”
“You mean this ball?” it said quickly.
A shadow crept out from among the trees. That was when Marston could see who had asked him the questions. He almost fainted from the sheer shock of the sight.