Swift by Heather London Page B

woods and Charlotte called after me, my mom had burst out the back door before I could step two feet into the thickness of the trees. She called after me, screaming my name, yelling for me to come back toward the house. The panic in her voice stopped me. I turned around quickly; jumping back toward the grass, back to the boundary line my mom had set and told my sister and I not to cross. When she finally got to me, she took me by the hand and dragged me back toward the house, the entire time scolding me about disobeying her strict orders. I had never heard my mom speak like that, especially not to my sister or me. Her voice was full of anger, panic, and sadness … if a voice could hold all those emotions at once. I remember asking myself as I was being dragged on what the big deal was. It was just the woods, the same woods where my sister and I had gone many times. Why were they suddenly off limits? Why was I being scolded for something that had seemed so trivial before?
    Once we were back inside, my mother sent my sister and I up to our rooms while her and my dad continued their hushed conversation in the living room. I remember trying to hold in the tears until I was alone and could hopefully block some of the noise with my pillow. The entire time I was being dragged and scolded, Charlotte followed silently behind us, not saying a word. Before I shut my bedroom door, Charlotte stopped and looked at me with sympathetic eyes, trying to apologize for getting me into trouble; it had been her yelling that had caused my mom to rush out of the house and grab me. But my stare must have been unforgiving, because she continued to her room with the same sorrowful look on her face. After shutting my door, I ran to my bed and leaped onto it, not able to hold back the tears anymore.
    It was later that night that my dad had rushed into my bedroom, telling me to get up and get dressed. I remember being confused; it made no sense to me. It took me a few seconds to recall the events that had taken place earlier in the day. Then I remembered: I had gone into the woods, been reprimanded, and then sent to my room. I remembered crying for hours after that, and then I must have fallen asleep. As I sat there trying to get my bearings after my dad woke me, something told me that it was not yet morning. I still felt tired and groggy. I looked down and realized that I was fully clothed, never having changed after being sent to my room. As I got out of bed, I heard my dad giving Charlotte the same instructions that he had given me just seconds before. I stood in the hallway, still dazed and not sure of what was happening. Then Charlotte stumbled out of her bedroom in a confused stupor as well. She too was still dressed in the blue-jean skirt and Disneyland shirt that she had on while playing in the backyard, her favorite purple tennis shoes in hand. I looked down and saw that I had never taken my shoes off. Our eyes met and fear must have crossed both of our faces at the same time. We walked toward one another and held hands, not knowing or fully understanding what all was going on.
    My mother called for us to join her downstairs in the kitchen. We walked down the stairs and entered the hallway. I could see my mom hunched over the counter, scribbling something on a piece of paper. She finished and placed the note in the cabinet where we kept our spices. She turned back around and smiled at us, then embraced us in a big hug. It should have been a comforting feeling, but it wasn’t. It just added more to my confusion. I could see the same reaction on Charlotte’s face, too. Then my dad’s voice was behind us, telling us it was time to go.
    Time to go? Go where? It was the middle of the night. My mother grabbed each of our hands and walked us outside to the car. Neither Charlotte nor I asked any questions, in fear of what would happen if we did. It did seem like my mother and father were somewhat back to normal. Well, except for the