Sheltered

I could have been anywhere when I sat myself down here. The air around me is peaceful. The swirls of wind in the distance are like an ambience and I’m free from the everyday. It’s not loud or dramatic but it makes me jump from my skin. It means the end for me and I cannot take it anymore.

I could forget it; pretend I’d gone deaf and say I couldn’t hear. Inside here, I am in my own world. The second that door is opened, that feeling is broken. I never want it to end.

“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.”

After all, the second pig’s home was only made from sticks, like my humble abode, they could easily destroy it if they wanted. My legs are scrunched up. I am growing too tall for this place. When I stand my head reaches the roof but I’m too afraid to leave. Just let me stay a little longer.

“Let me in, let me in!” The wolf calls from outside.

I can hear them scraping on the wood, each claw digging in.

The wolf knocks louder this time, it feels more urgent, though I do not wish to go outside, they are welcome to join me inside here.

I stand on shaky legs. This place has always been mine alone. Never have I ever allowed anybody to cross the threshold.

“Stand Back!” I shout at the door.

The wolf moves backwards. I hear the crunchy leaves rustling underfoot. The knob to my abode is stiff. Years of debris and moss sticks to the hinges but I pry it apart.

The wolf stands in full display for me to see. There are no dagger white teeth to bite me. No fur on their body or tail to swing. This wolf is concerned and restless, bursting in, wanting answers. I know them well, they are family.

There is a familiar smell when they step inside and circle around.

“Please, take a seat, they may not be comfortable, but they do the job.”

The wolf looks displeased. Their face twists and turns, trying to sit without bashing into any hanging wooden sculptures that fall from the roof. I have made each one of them. Each wooden sculpture is hand crafted and made with love and care. After all, this humble stick home is everything to me.

“It’s beautiful,” they say, though there is melancholy in their voice, “it’s time to go home.”

“I am home.” I say simply. “I have built this myself.”

The wolf feels sorry for their piglet, as if it’s their fault I am now ‘stuck’ in here. It’s my choice after all, and I’m happy being in here, free from the world. Just me and the sights and sounds of nature.

“Tea?” I suggest.

They nod, but I can see behind their eyes they’re only agreeing out of politeness. I have been living off herbal teas for a while. The boiled river water is nature’s way to make drinks.

I watch, while sitting opposite them, sip on the clay mugs, that I have made with my bare hands. It seems wolves don’t appreciate handmade pottery like piglets do. They sip on their tea but they are not appreciated.

“You don’t understand what’s it’s like to live like this.” I tell them, watching them try to subtly spit out the lukewarm tea onto the leaf flooring.

“I don’t and I’m worried about you Daniel. Please come back to your real home, we all miss you.”

It’s difficult to remember my life before. How I felt when electricity and modern essentials would take over my life. When I’m cocooned in my stick home, I am safe, there is nothing else I need to worry about, apart from nature itself. Each twig and stick wraps around me, bending itself into shape. This is my own space to do as I want, can the wolf really take this away from me?

“Daniel, you must see what you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthily.” The wolf gently says.

Their manipulation will not work on me. I have read the stories cover to cover, and this piglet will never be fresh meat.

There is water in her eyes. She’s afraid. I see the wolf’s guard crumbling in front of me.

Time in here moves at a slower pace. I watch the moon high in the sky, the stars overhead, then the sun transformed, the many flocks of birds overhead.

“Drink up.” I say, noticing she hasn’t touched her tea.

My head feels fuzzy and I’m noticing the tea on the side. It’s lukewarm now, it’s too disgusting to drink but that is what I do, I grab the mug with both hands and gulp as if it’s the last drink I will ever swallow. I feel the river water in the back of my throat. It’s horrible, it’s flavour tastes of mud. This wolf has manipulated me so much that even my vision and scent have been tainted.

I back away, slowly, falling out of the stick house and out into the forest. It’s cold out here, the woods are noisier than they have ever been. She comes towards me with tenderness. Her arms outstretched. These are not the arms of an animal; these are human and I finally see her face up close. Her long bushy hair cascades down her shoulders. I’d remember those big green eyes anywhere.

“Sister.” I call out.

She smiles and helps me up, leaning me on the bark of a large oak tree, where I would often collect apples that fell. I would eat them for breakfast in the Fall months.

“There, there.” She says patting my back. “It’s not your fault, I didn’t realise how ill you’ve been.”

I’m confused, I’m exhausted. Time bends when I’m in the forest, wrapped up inside a little parcel of twigs. My fingernails are chilly and my body shakes with the cold, despite it being warm out here.

My sister takes her thick, woollen jacket off and drapes it on me. “Let’s take you home,” she mutters.

I look underneath her coat as she takes it off. She isn’t hiding a bushy tail where her trousers are. I am just a lost piglet.

We walk through the forest. The leaves crunch underfoot, as we take one step at a time. Sister smiles all the way back. There’s a solemness about her and I know it’s all my fault.

“Sorry.” I hiss.

Shaking her head, she takes me by the shoulders. “Don’t be, never think that this is your fault.”

“Thank You, for knocking on my door. I needed to get out of my head, I needed waking up.”