Chapter 1

Ok, so I'm going to write this lot down in diary form, so that I don't forget it. Not that it's likely - 'it' is so weird that I think it will stick in my mind for the rest of my life. Seriously.

I'd promised Mum that I'd walk the dog - he's called Pooch, it suits him - so I took him up into the woods. And it's, like, Sunday - so there's loads of people around and I'm not going to get assaulted and dumped in a shallow grave or anything. Not unless my attacker works really quickly.

And I've been up there must be, ooh, every weekend since the year dot, since I can ever remember. So I know my way around and stuff. Anyway me and Pooch just went round one of the set walks, but the opposite way to everyone else, cos I can't face looking at other people's arses all the way round. A little way into the walk the wood gets really dark for a bit, because it's along the edge of the quarry and you have to walk beneath the side, sort of thing.

Then I saw it - the caravan in the trees. Seriously, it's never been there before but there it was. A properly old one as well - all twirly edges and steps up the front. Like you see in kid's colouring books. I half expected to see an old gypsy lady sitting outside it, with a fire and maybe doing her darning or something. Only it looked deserted, as if it had been sat there for years. But it hasn't, it wasn't there last week, I'm absolutely certain of that.
By this time I thought I was seeing things and really should go home and get some sleep to make up for last night (it's not like I was doing anything exciting, just reading some crappy magazine until stupid o'clock), only Pooch had gone over to sniff it out, so I thought I'd have a quick look.

It was really creepy, I kept looking over my shoulder. It felt like someone was watching me but there was noone there, even though I could hear people fairly nearby - a family with kids, it sounded like. I got closer and realised that the door was missing - it was just a black opening into the dark. Which was scary enough, but then everything seemed to go quiet. You know when it snows and sort of soundproofs everything, so it all sounds muffled? That's what it was like.
I wiggled my fingers in my ears in case they needed popping, but it didn't make any difference. Pooch was still sniffling around the caravan so I decided that I was being pathetic and ought to just go and get him.

Then I realised that there was a light in the caravan. Now, I knew it couldn't be electricity and it didn't look like a torch, so what on earth it was I had no idea. Unless it was a tramp with candles? It would have to be a very well-prepared tramp, what with getting the caravan up here in the first place, pulling it into place, all that stuff.
At which point I realised that there were no tracks leading up to the caravan wheels. So, a proper Romany caravan had just appeared overnight (ok then, within the last week), seemingly from nowhere, looking like it'd been there forever, but with absolutely no sign of how it got there? Riiiiiight...

Creeptastic, no? At which point any sane person would have run screaming for the hills, raced home, locked the doors and had a nice nap. But of all the descriptions that have been applied to me over the years, 'sane' is not one of them. 'Pain in the sodding arse', maybe, or 'a right flaming know-it-all', yes. I can admit to those I guess. But I've never been one to go for the sensible option.

Besides, this was the most interesting thing to happen to me for months! Living in the sticks and being taught at home (Mum couldn't drive when we were small and the nearest school was a good few miles away, so she started teaching us herself and it seemed to work out ok so we've just stayed like that) means that not much happens generally. I have to wait til my few friends are on school holidays and stuff, so that we can make arrangements to get over to each other - for the rest of the time I just talk to them online.

Blah, blah, blah, anyway...super-weird caravan, noone around, sound's still all muffled and strange, dog is disappearing into the bloody undergrowth and BAM! a face appears around the door :o

So seriously, I was nearly up the nearest tree in fright. I might even have squealed a tiny bit, in an annoyingly pathetic girly manner ('feminine' is not something often applied to me, either). Then I stopped, cos the face wasn't moving and didn't look like it was going to come out and stab me in the throat or anything, and it appeared to have a hand attached to it somewhere further down which was reaching out to grab Pooch from where he was scrabbling around under the caravan.

I was about to get all indignant and shout at the face for pulling my dog around, but I realised that the face was smiling and tickling Pooch under the chin (well the hand was doing the tickling, not the face. Obviously). For his part, Pooch was looking pathetically pleased at the attention and was seconds away from flopping over to have his belly rubbed.

Then the face looked straight at me. Wow. I mean seriously - w.o.w. Pretty. Really pretty, but in a boy-way rather than girly, you know? And older than me, maybe 19 or 20. Long, floppy hair all hanging over one side, as if he'd been pulling and fiddling with it. Dark, dark eyes.
That was all I could see, but if that's not enough, I don't know what is.

And then came the weird bit. Cos obviously today hasn't been weird enough, has it? Right. So, he looks straight at me with his odd black eyes, and he pulls at his hair with one hand (the other one was still stroking the stupid bloody dog at this point) and he speaks. In a completely normal voice, as if ancient spooky caravans turn up in the middle of the woods completely out of nowhere every day of the sodding week, and he called me by my name. WHAAAAAAT???

Firstly, I've never seen him before In My Life. Second, he's gorgeous and probably knows loads of girls older and prettier than me that would be more than happy to go walking in the woods with him. Third, he's gorgeous. Fourth, I have the weirdest name in the history of the world and how the hell does he know what it is???



Too weird, too late, too tired. Will finish updating this tomorrow.

L.

1 comment:

  1. Next section here - http://throughawoodlanddarkly.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html

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