Grace

15

The sun rose, vanquishing the darkness, and everything fell, like my risk of cervical cancer did after I started eating papayas every day. Well, it wasn’t “everything,” just a tree as tall as a twenty-foot pole and us while running from it. Our stupid backpacks made us all tumble to the ground, narrowly missing a huge branch. All those textbooks and calculators, but nothing that could get us out of these woods. If only I had a smartphone with a GPS; I would be having lots of fun in the first day of my math support class right now. Cathy had an iPhone, but her parents blocked everything on it they thought could corrupt her, including internet and Apple Maps.
As we dusted ourselves off, I said, “We should walk back. I’m pretty sure we’re lost. Thanks, Alex.” I glared at him because it was his idea to take this “shortcut” on the first day of high school, practically leading us to get crushed by a tree and ruining my new skirt.
“Sike,” Alex said.
“I said we should turn around forty minutes ago!” Larry, your typical fat best friend minus the being-funny part, whined.
“Well, it was too dark to hear you.” Looking around, I realized I had no idea which direction we came from. If I were autistic I’d love it—no sounds, no civilization, just trees and grass—but I’m not.
“Um, I think we came…that way?” I pointed at a tree, and we walked toward the one we think I might have pointed to. Someone sniffed.
“Larry, are you crying?” asked Alex, raking the dirt out of his wavy brown hair as if his hand were a rake.
He quickly wiped his eyes. “No, I was just thinking about the Great Depression.”
“Yeah, I’m bummed too,” Alex said, sighing. “I brought these curtains from my house for the homeless people drive at school and everything. And now they won’t get them.”
“And I brought a bunch of cute erasers, but we’re probably going to die in these woods before I can use them.” Cathy kicked a rock, upset.
“I brought my gun for school, but now I can’t use it,” I said. I looked around for any sign that we were going the right way, but everything was as uninteresting as Cathy’s face.
“Mia, you don’t seem the type,” said Alex. I was offended.
“See, your judging people is the reason why so many teens hurt themselves these days. Labels have negative impacts, so think about the possible repercussions before judging people.”
“Calm down, Mia.” Cathy pointed to something on the side. “Why does there happen to be a random cabin in the woods?”
A quaint log cabin sat about thirty feet away from us. It was a little suspicious, but who cared if a witch was waiting to burn us alive? I was sick of missing school and falling behind every second. Besides, I could stab her in the neck with the knife in my pocket, if needed. The rest of my friends all thought the same thing, and we jogged to the door. Alex stared at the door handle and slowly turned the knob.