Dawn woke up to a hot cup of tea, an English muffin buttered and topped with strawberry jam, and a sharpened sword laying on the table in front of her. She picked up the cup of tea and discovered a note underneath it.

I’m already gone, but you know this. Remember, accept what is true, reject what is not, and change what needs to be changed. Follow the trail to the West to get home. Oh, and please get a haircut!

Love, Dad

She smirked to herself. Dad liked her to keep her hair short. She pulled on the locks, realizing how wildly curly they had become. She sat back, sipping on her tea and smiled. After she finished up her breakfast, she took a final look around the little cabin. She found a pack by the door, already prepped for her journey on back to reality.

She knew she had some fights ahead of her. She sheathed her sword, placing it within reach and her pack together on her back and stepped out of the cabin. The sun was rising in the distance.

She spotted the trail and headed West, with the sun at her back. The forest thickened with only thin streams of light piercing through the canopy. A mist swirled around Dawn’s feet as she continued walking. Birds chirped in the morning light as it grew in the sky, and the mist began to give way. Dawn appreciated the morning quiet as she walked along the trail.

By late morning however, the sky began to turn dark and the mist came back. Vines creeped across the trail, tripping her stride. The birds grew quiet as the winds picked up and started to howl. She prepared however for what would come next. She just needed to make it home.

The trail narrowed and the tree limbs began to pull at her arms and pants. She freed herself from them with a swift blow from her sword. At least these were just tree limbs, not the harrowing screams she endured before.

She heard a rustle in the trees and looked about. She felt eyes on her, watching her as she walked on. Do you know what you are doing girl? her mind seemed to start questioning her. The hairs on her neck stood up, knowing something was coming.

She heard a small voice. No child should be out here. She looked to her left and saw a small boy. She kneeled down and he reached out his hand. But when she went to take it, he faded away as if he were a ghost. She stood up and shook with shivers from the sudden cold. She heard what sounded like a laugh come from behind her. Unworthy. She looked around and saw nothing.

She continued pushing forward, hoping the pathway would lead her home soon. A twig slapped her in the face as she heard a chuckle from the tree above. She looked up, holding her left cheek, a tender spot from where her mother had slapped her a long time ago throbbed. Not my daughter. Whispers from the trees grew. Her hold tightened around the grip of her sword.

She kept moving forward. As the trail narrowed, she struggled to move on forward in the path. If you were fit, you’d fit in better. She lifted her sword and hacked away at the growing branches forming in front of her, blocking her way.

The voices continued to grow as she continued to push forward until she could no longer move. The thoughts started to push her harder, weighing her down as she approached the end of the trail. She forced her sword into the ground as a stake to keep from falling into the mud again. She knew she just needed to clear her mind and these traps would move aside.

A solitary tear rolled from her eye and fell onto the pommel stone. It started to glow and shot out a bright light against the vines and branches which surrounded her. You have this. You can get through this. We believe in you. You need to believe in you.

She looked about. Three silhouettes of light surrounded her, two placing a hand on her, one on each shoulder and the third kissing her forehead. Stand up, push through. Accept, reject, change.

She pushed herself back up and lifted her sword and sheathed it. She realized she didn’t need a weapon, or anything but herself in those brief moments. The silhouettes faded from her view. She reached out her hands and pushed her way through the vines as they began to wither, and found a glass wall in front of her. She began to run forward towards it and crashed through the glass.

She opened her eyes, laying on the tile floor. She looked back at the pane, and it was whole, not shattered. She pushed herself up to a sitting stance. Her face was streaked with tears, but she was okay. She looked at her scratched up arms, but the scratches quickly disappeared. She found her way to stand up and turned to the sink. A few leaves were still in her hair, but she smiled at her reflection. Dad was right, I need a haircut. She moved forward with a better perspective.

Thank you for reading this short story. If you struggle with depression, anxiety or other mental illness, please seek out assistance. Many resources are available, from your primary care provider to psychiatrists to counseling services. Reaching out helps; it really does.

Thud!

A sickening noise came from the dining room window. A small body fell to the brick pavers below.

She walked over to the window, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. The last time, the poor bird’s neck was broken.

A palm warbler lay on its side. Another flew about, worried, trying to get him up and fly away, then hightailed it back to the oak tree.

Poor thing. He was breathing so heavy, his beak open. He couldn’t stand, just laying there on his side.

She unlatched the door and stepped outside to check on him. He struggled to move, still stuck on his side.

She sat down and carefully picked him up into her palms. Softly she soothed him. She wasn’t sure if he would pass from internal injuries or, perhaps he was only stunned.

After a few minutes, his breathing returned to normal, and he found his footing in her hands. Nothing seemed broken as he stood on both his feet.

She stood up and took her little friend over to the planter box, then set him down to rest in a ray of sun. She wanted to keep him away from the neighborhood hunter, a black and white tuxedo cat.

He hopped a few times in the bed, then tilted his head at her and sat back down to rest.

She came back a little later to check on him. He had flown off, rejoining his friend in the tree. A happy ending.

“Here’s a burger, Dawn.” He handed her a juicy burger with cheese, ketchup, and mustard along with a tomato slice and sat back in his chair.

His face grew solemn, and he looked down at the floor. “You know, everyone deals with this. You aren’t alone.” He looked up at her for a moment, shakily, then looked back in the floor. “For over two decades, I battled them in an unhealthy way. I began drinking heavily.” He looked back up at her then back down.

“It was the 60s and the 70s, I was an executive, and it just was what we all did. Parties, luncheons, every gathering was an opportunity to get rid of the thoughts in our head and distract ourselves. I chose alcohol for a very long time. Until I realized, I was in control…your mom helped me to realize that. It took me 8 years to work through it, but I did.”

He looked back over at her, hoping his words were getting through. “You don’t have to surrender to these thoughts or give up and drown them in some unhealthy way.”

Dawn looked down at her rounded belly and thick thighs. She knew what he meant.

“Dawn, you’ve struggled with this on and off for your entire life; what you are feeling is unhappiness with what you are doing and where you are. But reality isn’t the problem, it’s how you are approaching it… Do you understand?”

She took a deep breath. She still needed to find a way to stop them, and she was at a loss.

He slowly stood up and took her empty plate from her, then wandered back to the kitchen, rinsing off the plates. He was always fastidious about cleanliness; something she pushed aside, especially in times where she was overwhelmed. “Busy hands make for a tidy mind. Bear that in mind.” The clean plates clinked against each other as he set them back in the cabinets.

“Let’s go sit on the front porch for a bit. Don’t worry, they won’t find you here.” He opened the door and screen door. It squealed as it closed and latched back behind him.

She smiled to herself. Oh, how she missed hearing that sound. She stood up and joined him on the porch. As she looked around into the dark, little sparks of light floated in the distance. “I love how the lightning bugs are everywhere,” she reminisced. “Reminds me of Tennessee.” She sat down in the chair next to him and looked out across the valley in front of them. The stars started shining in the distance. “Thanks for bringing me here to think.”

They sat for a long time, not talking, just enjoying being in the same place for the time they could share. He reached over and took his daughter’s hand. “I’m not going to be there this time to push you and bring you back to reality. But, you know you can’t stay here either, okay?”

She sighed. It was so peaceful here. The voices stayed away and she missed him so much. But he was right. “I know. I can’t dwell like I did when I was in that dark place….the longer I stay, the harder it will be to go. I’ll head out at sunrise.”

They stood up and headed in to call it a night. He embraced his daughter in a tight hug before heading off to bed. She curled back up on the sofa and drifted off to sleep.