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The Places No One Comes Back From

a/n: this short story was written in response to both this challenge and a prompt on Reedsy.com, "write a story told using only dialogue". I found the double nature of the challenge a lot of fun!

By Raistlin AllenPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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The Places No One Comes Back From
Photo by Federico Di Dio photography on Unsplash

“Where are we going, Daniel?”

“The only place we can after what you did.”

“…You know it was an accident, right?”

“Yes, yes. And I promised not to tell anyone. As we discussed.”

“Boy… holding him is kind of…could you pick up the foot there?”

“I’m not touching anything. I’m helping you out, Max. Besides, you’re stronger than me, aren’t you? A big, tough brute? Surely this can’t be your first-”

“- Stop it! Of course it is. I don’t- I wouldn’t-”

“Don’t tell me you’re about to cry.”

“I’m not. I’m just tired and I don’t know where we’re going and oh my god I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It isn’t me you need to be apologizing to, Maxie.”

“…Why are you here anyway?”

“Why am I here? Well, well, Maxie, you have some nerve. Can’t a fellow take a walk around the campgrounds before dinner?”

“We were just meant to be shooting at… the squirrels. You know that, don’t you Daniel? I know we weren’t supposed to but… oh god, he’s a lot.”

“How long has he been dead?”

“Dead…”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes…”

“Well, how long?”

“Maybe…half an hour? Before you came.”

“Half an hour, damn it Maxie. You really sat on the lawn for an hour with his body slumped over there, where anyone could see?”

“I didn’t know what to do.”

“You really didn’t mean to, did you?”

“Of course not!”

“Why do you say ‘of course not?’ Is it so unreasonable to think you might have had something against him?”

“I just…I don’t know what happened. I thought I heard something, saw something even, and then- then…Bernard was my friend.”

“People do strange things sometimes. Even to friends. Or so I hear. I wouldn’t know, would I?”

“Dan.”

“My name is Daniel.”

“Daniel. I know we weren’t the nicest to you. t’s- when we said those things about you…”

“Yes?”

“We were just playing around, you know.”

“…I don’t think you were.”

“No, I mean, I guess I can’t talk for the others- ahh! watch, there’s a root there, almost got me, watch for it- but sometimes when we see something we don’t understand, we act…wrong, at first. You know.”

“What is it…that you don’t understand?”

“Well, uhm. It’s. Like just these little things, I guess. Maybe rumors. Brendan said you talked in your sleep, but it wasn’t like normal words and your eyes were open.”

“Brendan is an idiot.”

“Ha. Yeah… that’s true, isn’t it?…I guess there’s also things like that feather you’ve got around your neck.”

“What about it?”

“Henry tried to touch it and you were all weird about it.”

“Henry should have asked, shouldn’t he?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Have you ever had something precious to you, Max? Something that you liked to keep close, like a secret?”

“I don’t like it much when anyone else touches my drum set, I guess.”

“Well, this is like that. Except much, much more.”

“Hhhh… man, I feel like I need to rest a little. What’d’you mean, it’s more?”

“This, Maxie, is a talisman. It’s the feather of a barn owl. Do you know anything about barn owls, Max?”

“No. They the ones with the white faces?”

“We had a bunch of barn owls back where I come from. You learn things, if you listen to them long enough. If you know how to listen. Most people don’t. I was alone a lot as a boy, you know.”

“Sorry.”

“I did not say lonely. I said alone.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Oh yes, Max. During this time, the owls showed me many things.”

“I don’t really like owls, much. There was this story my gramma told me and in it whenever someone saw an owl it meant something bad. Like they were gonna die or something. It was messed up. Plus they sound kind of spooky.”

“They are hard to understand and so you think them…wrong?”

“Um. I guess. You got me. Are we close yet?”

“We are. Come this way. You can stop a little here, but then we’ve got to keep going.”

“You think they’ll wonder where we’ve gone?”

“They won’t.

You are awfully silent now, Max.”

“Yeah. I guess I was just thinking…am I doing the right thing? I feel like I should tell someone. Maybe we should just go back to the camp and-”

“And what good would that do? Your friend would still be dead and you would be taken away.”

“I just feel so… heavy. Like there’s a pile of rocks building up in the bottom of my stomach. And I don’t know if…even if I never get caught for it, will I ever stop thinking about it? Will the rocks ever clear away, or will they just pile higher and higher? Wh… why are you smiling at me like that?”

“You are a good person, Max.”

“I don’t-”

“Yes. You are a good person, and I like you. And that is why I am helping you, Max.”

“I really do appreciate it, but I don’t understand where this place is? What makes it different from any old place in the woods? Couldn’t we dig a hole?”

“We could, Maxie. But if we never want your friend to be found, there are better ways. Better places. I know these woods well, Max. I’ve been here many times before. I know the twists and turns of the drying creek, I know the change of the seasons, the approach of an animal. I know the places no one comes back from.”

“…How close are we? It’s getting dark.”

“Almost, Max. You can feel it, can’t you?”

“It’s kind of hard…to breathe a little bit.”

“Yes. That’s natural when approaching the veil.”

“The what? What’s that there, a cave?”

“If you want.”

“I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh Max. Don’t be so judgmental.”

“Do I just… put him in there? Like…that? Oh, that’s weird. Daniel, will he be- that’s not a normal cave is it? If I put him in there, will he be-?”

“Gone? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It’s not…what’s that noise? It sounds like, oh god, it sounds like f-feathers. A lot of them. Oh my god. They’re here, aren’t they? The owls. They’re here.”

“There, there Maxie. Don’t panic. As long as you don’t look up, you’ll be fine. A lot of people disappear in these woods.”

“You… you?”

“What about me, Maxie?”

“Those others… from camp. It wasn’t- you didn’t, you weren’t the one who-?”

“The one who what? We’ve been over this, Max. Sometimes things just… disappear.”

“I want… I want to go back.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“I’m bigger than you. I could-”

“Now, Max. You and I are friends now, wouldn’t you say that? We share the most important of things; we share secrets. Only friends share precious things with one another. So I am going to share something precious with you right now, something of my very own.”

“…Don’t. I don’t….”

‘Would you like to touch the feather, Max?”

fiction
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