The Lost Fairytales of the Dewdrop Forest

By Bianca Scharff

With every day that approaches Lucy’s 18th birthday strange events and fear begin to consume her life. Searching for answers in tragic fairytales as a way to stop the madness in her once pleasantly routine life, she allows herself to be swayed into the bewitched Dewdrop Forest. Abundant with hidden fairytales Lucy must find the one that will help to free her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543920741

Book preview

Reality

Below a sea of moonlit treetops in the wilderness of an enchanted forest, there was a young man briskly making his way through. All in black, he wore a frown, one that could be felt for miles around, its heaviness causing gloom to spread with his every step and motion. Looking forward and not at the forest before him, he walked quickly stomping but never stumbling. He turned and swooped between each tree, bush and rock as if he could feel their presence.

He was clearly upset thinking deeply as he walked, reflecting, reflecting on all his time spent in the forest. Time has done this to me, he thought bitterly. I have been here for such a long amount of time. These thoughts occurred to him and only caused his frown to deepen. Recently, he couldn’t seem to remember everything as well as he once had. His memories hazy, he walked for miles through the forest to find one of the oldest trees, one that was likely to remember for him, one that could tell him.

Upon finding it, he quickly pressed his face against it and embraced the tree heartily as if it were an old friend hoping to feel some type of warmth, the scratchy tree bark against his face giving him little comfort as the still icy air surrounded them. There was no warmth to be found. He breathed out in a sigh while holding on tightly, suddenly remembering that there really was no air to fill his lungs anymore. Then he asked the old oak tree his question, Why do I kill her? he whispered in a stifled tone.

Love, the tree whispered back into his mind with a voice that shook from age.

Love, he mumbled flatly. What do you know, you old pile of rot.… You don’t know! he yelled hastily as he quickly let go of the tree and walked away without so much as a goodbye.

Minutes later, he walked back toward the tree face, solemn and subdued. Tell me the tale…please, he said an edge in his voice, fists slightly clenched, bothered at having to say such things. Saying please only because he knew some respect had to be paid for this favor.

Being calm, still and kind, the grand old tree knew what it meant to get such a pleasantry, especially from this boy whom the tree knew was no ordinary boy. It was obvious and apparent to the grand old oak that he was in the presence of forest royalty, in the presence of the prince. With that, the wind began to blow, and the grand old oak tree began to whisper in the rustling of its leaves.…

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time, there was a girl from a small village sitting near the edge of the forest. She was a young beautiful girl close to eighteen years of age with hazel eyes and chocolate colored hair, passing the day lazily, sitting on the edge of the cliff that overlooks her town and borders the Dewdrop Forest, fantasizing about the stories she read as the soft sunlight warmed her face.

Romanticizing these wild tales in her mind, as she thought of them again and again, stories that have to do with gnomes, fairies, daring escapes and far-off places, How wonderful it would be to have such a fairytale of a life, she thought, as the wind blew quietly through the long and wild looking grass beside her.

Then, for a moment in time, she felt that something was suddenly different, a difference in that the world had just changed ever so slightly. Looking curiously around herself, she noticed that right next to where she sat there was suddenly a long and beautiful dandelion growing. It seemed to have appeared as if from thin air. Dandelions never grew outside the thick tree line of the forest, and only a fool would cross the tree line in to find one. Excitedly she plucked it from the ground and began to think of the one thing her heart most desired. Then, shutting her eyes tight she took a deep breath before uttering those fateful words that would change our lives forever. I wish… she said softly. I wish…, she said again holding the dandelion closer, to be a part of a fairytale, She said breathing out forcefully. She began to open her eyes slowly so that she could watch the seeds float away, when, in that very instant, a wolf with thick white fur and deep black eyes leapt out from between the trees of the forest and swallowed her whole, causing her fairytale to be over—or so we thought.

She was found days later wandering into town covered in what smelled like vomit, lethargically walking down the main road that led into the town’s market, staring off into nothing. She had been missing for days and now having reappeared, she was a sight. Her once blue dress was now gray and covered in a thick green and black slimy substance. Thick with the slime, her hair clung to her face and neck as well. She walked slowly down the hill from the forest into the village seemingly slowing her pace from what appeared to be sheer exhaustion. Not everyone noticed her at first, but those who did were most certainly at a loss for words. She stopped walking and stood in the center of the town’s market silently stumbling and falling, landing on her knees, continuing to stare at something quite invisible to the world.

Everyone who saw her froze in silence stopping their daily bustle from the shock and sight of her until the stillness was finally broken by her father who finally recognized her, running toward her, tears welling up in his eyes from both the joy of her return and shock of her appearance. Kneeling to hold her, he screamed out for his wife who quickly joined him on the ground in hugging and welcoming their lost daughter home, when a silence came over them again as they began to notice something terribly odd. She had not moved or even looked at them the entire time. It was as if they didn’t exist; no one existed. Frightened, her parents quickly glanced at one another then at their fellow villagers, who had begun to gather around them whispering several fluttering whispers that she had been cursed.

Frightened more still by this, they quickly scooped their daughter up off the ground and carried her home before she could be questioned by the townspeople. Although everyone questioned, in their minds they questioned where she could have been, spreading rumors of curses, hexes and the like. Talking about how it seemed all too familiar because the forest that bordered the very village was the same one in which the stolen children of the Pied Piper’s tale were found, pieces of them anyways, hanging from the trees."

The tree stopped talking as he could feel that the boy stopped listening.

The boy was sitting on the ground now, his back leaned against the old oak tree, listening to it whisper these many things once forgotten, recalling these events from his life that once were. I remember this story, he muttered.

The trees’ leaves began to rustle once more as the wind picked up to continue. When the boy raised his hand in a commanding tone, slightly arrogant in nature, he signaled the tree to stop and the wind to calm. Standing now as he stared off between the trees of the forest, as if seeing his own memories, he decides that he would like to finish the story.

"I can remember it as if it were yesterday, the smell of vomit on her dirty clothes mixing with the smells of rotten fruit and pig’s blood from the market, the silence that seemed to come over the village for three whole days after her return. Although, what I especially remember is the way that I felt my heart beat fast as I saw her walking back toward the village, knowing she was still alive.

I was a young boy then with a huge crush and one major debilitating factor, I couldn’t speak. Every day I would watch her go about her business in town as she glanced at fabrics or shopped for groceries, hoping that she would look at me, notice me, but she never did. I continually placed myself in her line of sight, but she always looked right past me. I had decided that it was hopeless until a week after her return. She reemerged from hiding in her room, and when she finally did, it was obvious that she was strange now, different. It wasn’t just the fact that she kept to herself more, but that she noticed me. She smiled. She actually smiled at me. Never had I felt such joy as I did in this moment.

In the nights that followed, screaming was heard coming from the forest, and the children began to go missing. A village night watch was set up for safety, and the screams heard from the forest stopped, but hers continued. The whole town could hear her scream from her bedroom. It was strange and frightening like a dark cloud over the village; maybe she had lost her mind like the rumors said.

Although none of these happenings were enough to keep me from her, from saying Yes to her the very next morning when she asked me if I would like to walk with her. I was elated. An instant smile spread over my face in answer to her question, and she took my arm and led us toward the forest.

As we walked there together, I couldn’t help but be distracted from the happiness I was feeling. It was very strange. I couldn’t stop thinking back to the old tales of the village. The tales explained that this forest wasn’t really ours and that it belonged to the children. None of that ever really made sense to me but what I did understand was that we were not supposed to come here. I glanced at her, and she smiled delicately, beautifully, without a word. Crossing through the tree line, I slowed, but she pressed forward. She led us deeper still in silence until the forest was eerily dark. I signaled that we should head back, but with her arm around mine, she forced me forward until finally, we stopped walking. She turned to face me holding and squeezing both of my hands in her own, with a look on her face that seemed as if she were trying to apologize. As I began trying to piece together exactly what was happening, she started to run away. But the strangest thing was that as she ran through the forest, the sounds of her footsteps were drowned out by many tiny ones, the sound of children’s feet running toward me faster than the sound of her feet running away.

Then it hit me, literally, in the back of the head, like someone wanting to drive a hammer into a nail. Part of my skull had been mashed with a jagged rock. A warm gooey sensation came over me, then sleep. I awoke to small voices wondering when I would wake up. Then I opened my eyes to a large gray boulder being held over my head, and for the first time in my life, I made a sound, a roar that echoed through the forest and the village. This was my last memory as a human. When I woke to be what I am; the fury inside me raged. Everything seemed hideous and cold. I was now one of the children. They called me their friend and explained that I could be father if I wanted because I was the oldest. The missing children from the village were all there, as well as the piper’s mangled ones.

Then they told me the story of my sweetheart, about the wolf who ate her but decided to be kind and give these children someone new to play with, how she begged for her life, and they struck a deal. She would bring them friends and they would not kill her. For every night that she did not bring a new friend, they would cut off a piece of her toes to remind her that death hurts. Her story did bring a tear to my eye, but I had surely been wronged. I had to kill her, trap her, make her suffer like me. My mind began to cross to the maddening rage that welled up inside of me when a whisper came on the leaves of the forest. They rustled and shook as the wind blew through them whispering A hanging! Han…ging. A hanging. It would have been beautiful had it not been for the words they spoke. Moments passed as I continued to listen to the soft rustling whispers, A hanging, before I finally realized it was her. She was to be hung! Where? When? The children and I ran to the edge of the forest.

The village had heard my roar and were there waiting for her as she ran out through the last few trees. She was ambushed and accused of witchcraft. They screamed at her, accusing that she was a bad omen on the village, a curse on everyone. Her hands were tied. Witch! they screamed, pulling her toward me, toward the forest. They threw a thick sturdy rope over one of the tree’s branches that bordered the forest and made her stand on a stool. Her face was covered in tears, and she begged for them, for her neighbors to let her go, but no one would look her in the eyes, let alone answer her. Please, you don’t understand, she whimpered. Let me go, please…, she cried, as two sturdy looking men stood on either side of her, grabbed her by the waist and shoulders and forced her to stand again on the stool. She couldn’t help but try to step off. No, wait. Look at me. Look at me. Everything seemed to be happening in a whirlwind around her as people screamed at her while staring at the floor and behind her as if she had already stopped existing. They cursed her for making a pact with the devil and being a soulless witch. Then the rope came, tossed around her neck and tightened, the sheer weight and roughness of it made more tears flood forward as she continued to yell and become desperate. Wait.

LOOK AT ME! she screamed. Then it came. The stool was pulled out from under her feet, and in a preternatural second there was a whisper that escaped her lips, I’m sorry. I knew it was meant for me.

A loud snap sounded followed by still silence as everyone quickly dispersed back to their lives, the malignant tone of death shrouded over them.

The wind blew, and she swayed ever so slightly, her hair seeming to lose its brilliance and dark pools beginning to form underneath her eyes. She was dead, and now she would be trapped forever, suffer what the children and I were suffering. Then I saw her once more as she stepped out of her body. I reached out but only caught the ends of her hair on my fingertips. Then turning, she showed me the cross necklace wrapped around her wrist. It glittered in the sunshine as if teasing me.

The rage in me was as strong as ever. I could kill her again, drown her until she realized what it was to be this, to be here.

For wearing a cross when you die is like wearing a second chance. You don’t have to suffer. She glanced back only for a moment then quickened her pace down the road. She was leaving me, running away from me again. Come back, I groaned.

Come back! I will make you suffer. My love! I was certain to kill her. With one hand, I wanted to crush her skull like a fruit. I will find her. The love and rage maddened me. I will find her. My love. My Lavinia."

Once upon a time, in a land far away, deep within