The Trapped Soul

Adolescent psychics are very rare in The Glades, Tennessee…especially deep in the woods. Freya Lyric Bleu is one of those rare gems – she just doesn’t know it, yet. Freya is a seven year old girl, who has hardly any family or friends; just her father, Sargent Armin Bleu, to help guide her in the right direction. Sargent Bleu was a veteran in the war for ten years, and came home just a half year before Freya was born. Freya is home schooled by Sargent Bleu. She is taught her reading, writing, math, history, and science, but those are just minor subjects to this child. The main subject her father teaches her: survival.

One night after a long day of hard work, little Freya rests her head on her pillow, closes her eyes, and drifts to sleep…but she’s soon awoken by the sound of a window opening. She’s startled when she finds that it wasn’t her father who opened her window, but a little boy around her age. He and Freya soon become close...the thing is, she's the only one that can see him.

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2. To Life

The fact that my drawing was legitimately exact to my surroundings…well; it scared the heck out of me. How did I get it right like that? Even if I were to have stumbled upon this cabin before, I certainly wouldn’t be able to remember it tree limb to tree limb. It just wasn’t possible! I don’t even remember seeing this area…ever, in my whole life, up until now actually. Even some of leafs on the ground were in the same position as in my drawing, it seemed.

My eyes kept averting to the actual cabin, to the picture in my hands, comparing them…desperately searching for some kind of difference. After a minute, I just shook my head and shoved the picture back into my pocket. I hope dad doesn’t ask for it. I hope he completely forgets…because how would I explain something like that? I don’t even know what that is. Before now, I would have known it was impossible…but it’s apparently not.

I brushed some of my dark brown hair out of my eyes and tucked the loose strands behind my ears before I followed my father towards the cabin while watching my footwork carefully. The ground was coated with leafs, after all, and I really didn’t want to fall or step on an animal trap or something.

In the matter of half a minute, I walked safely inside behind dad. He was hanging his coat up and instructing me to close the door. So, I reached behind me and went to close the door…but it was already closed. I raised a brow and stared at the wooden blockade, even crossing my arms and pouting in thought. Did I already close it? I must have done it subconsciously after I walked in, or the wind just blew it shut. Either or, it’s closed now…so, I then took off my own jacket and hung it up on the rack. I kept my bag around my shoulder as dad led me to my new bedroom. I was bursting with excitement, for I’ve never had my own bedroom. Sure, I’ve had my own little corner or place behind a bunch of bushes, but never my own room.

You may be questioning my father and I’s lifestyle now. I certainly wouldn’t blame you, if you are. You see, we have money. Well, he does, anyway. However, he doesn’t have a lot of it. He’s paid for being in the army regularly, I think, but I actually don’t really understand that yet. All I know is that my dad wants to bring me up to be something different…something special. He doesn’t want me to be like most children of my day and age. He doesn’t want me watching television all day, or talking to people over cellphones. I want to know the news? I find it out myself, or read the newspaper. I want to talk to someone? I go find them and talk to them face to face. But I don’t mind that. It’s much more fun, believe it or not, and a lot more healthy, too. So, that’s pretty much why we live the way we do – other than for dad’s personal reasons. He says he doesn’t like to be all crammed up in the city, where citizens are bustling around left and right, pushing and shoving their way through the towns square, or shouting at the top of their lungs. We only leave the woods about twice a month, to stock up on food we can’t hunt down or harvest. Other than that, we’re alone happily in the woods, where no one tends to bother us, and hardly anyone can find us…personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, I’m more of a quiet southern belle…I don’t enjoy attention or loudness. I cherish peace and quiet. The woods is my place of serenity.

When dad showed me to my room, I couldn’t help but squeal and jump in place. I knew my father was silently judging me as he chuckled in amusement, so I did my best to hold the rest all in until he was gone. A thank you escaped my smiling lips and I nodded politely before he nodded back and walked down the hall, and as my ears assumed, out the front door. When he was gone, I squealed again and began unpacking merrily. I was soon singing in my head, something along the lines of “I got my own room! I got my own room!” while I took out my clothes and put them in the dresser dad prepared for me, which was next to my small bed.

After a few minutes, an annoying noise came to my attention, and I had had enough of it. My eyes searched for where the sound was coming from, and I found that the shutters for the window, which was across from my bed, were open and banging gently from the wind.

My eyebrows furrowed and I rose to my feet, quickly walking over and closing the shutters and the window. Once they were secure, I smiled and nodded to myself, pleased to have fixed the problem.

After I was done at the window, I walked back to the dresser and finished un-packing my items. It wasn’t that long before I was done, and everything was set up and put in its proper place.

I decided I’d go see if I could find Dad – he’s most likely hunting for dinner, but I wanted to help…I haven’t hunted in a while.

So, I walked out of my room and into the small hall way, grabbing a bow-and-arrow - which was hanging on the wall – and a knife. I placed the knife in my boot and the bow-and-arrow over my shoulder lightly, and then marched out the door.

I crept silently among the trees for a while as the sun set in the sky, slowly making its way under the horizon. Finally, after a good half hour, I spotted my dad. He had his gun aimed at a buck – it was as if we were a triangle. The buck was the point in the middle, and dad and I were on the sides.

Dad soon saw me as well, and he nodded at me before he stepped behind the tree he was by. I knew exactly what that meant, so I aimed my bow-and-arrow precisely so that I’d get the buck on his throat. The poor beast was completely oblivious to what was about to happen to him.

Then, the arrow flew forward and directly into the flesh of the buck.

A strangled noise sounded from the creature, and he raced forward, straight at the tree my father was now hiding behind. When the buck was only a few feet away from it, Dad jumped out, taking him by surprise…and to put it gently, finishing the job.

I strode over as dad knelt down next to the fallen prey, patting its furry shoulder blade. My knees bent as I knelt down and took my knife from my boot.

“I’ll help gut him.” My voice spoke plainly. I felt bad for the animals that we hunted, but it was easier when I put all emotion to the side when we did.

My father nodded and let me help him, and we soon had our dinner prepared and on the wooden table back at our new house.

“To life.” Dad said as the fire on the candle danced in the middle of the oak surface. He lifted his glass, I lifted mine, and we tapped them together.

“To life.” I repeated him, nodding and smiling a bit. We both took a sip of the water before we used our utensils and dug into our meat. 

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