Lost in Forevermore

The Forever Forest has never been in any way a ‘normal’ forest. It wasn’t just a wilderness of trees and animals. Not the typical plants and weeds. Neither was the wind spared of its unique touch, for everything you once thought you knew perfectly was then turned into something you never thought you’d see. It wasn’t Wonderland, but it was something far different from what you’d expect.

It wasn’t as weird as in rabbit holes to a different land of talking rabbits and ghostly cats, but it was its own kind of weird. Uncanny was a better word for it. Something so familiar yet so wrong. Pronounced and vibrant, but unable to place if you try.

It was an ecosystem: the whispers of secrets in the air, the singing of the flowers, the smiling of the trees. You’d sense it, you feel it, but it’s so unfamiliar that it’s too out of reach.

Lily wants to go out there, to see the forest for herself. To feel the soil and grass beneath her feet. To hear the birds chirp and caw and animals of all kinds without the barrier of glass. To feel the green leaves and smooth stems freshly in her hands.

She wants to see the forest in all its beauty with her own eyes. Not in some fable that expects to picture it all in words. Not hear it in a lullaby that warns and warns to stay away, like going there means death, even though Lily is sure the author just wants all the beauty to themselves. All Lily could feel was the smooth pages made of dead wood, not the fresh, brown, rough trunk.

Even as she stood among the towering trees, a heavy unease hung in the air, almost clogging up her lungs. The forest seemed perfectly normal—sunlight filtering through vibrant leaves and casting playful shadows. Yet, Lily feels the unsettling presence lingering.

Out of the corner of her eye, a fleeting shadow darted between the trunks, vanishing before she could focus on it, leaving her doubting it was even there at all.

Then there were those eyes, cold and piercing, boring into her from the darkness. A chill ran down her spine, the sensation of being watched unnerving her to the bone. She couldn’t see who or what it was, but the weight of their gaze left nothing but the feeling of utter, helpless dread.

Or at least, that was what Lily thought. But she wouldn’t let what was probably figments of her imagination scare her off. So that’s how it started:

When Lily was eight, she went off to the forest on her own.

When Lily was eight, she went off to the forest on her own.

Lily thought it would be a beautiful moment, the second she opened the door. It creaked from its old age, from how long it had been closed. Maybe it was all in her head, maybe it was just never meant to be.

Lily saw a paradise. But maybe she imagined it. What was she looking for again?

Lily has been eight for a long time, she believes. Not that she really kept track, maybe she just stopped counting when eight years passed. Or maybe it’s just because it is really hard to keep track of time in the forest, because it is.

Time passed weirdly in all the places she has been, since she already lives in the forest. She’s never been anywhere else. It’s just that being inside the house was a lot different from being out there breathing in the fresh air.

Wait… that’s wrong. What was she doing again?

A house of smoke and wood, it always seemed cramped there. It was small, it was home, but Lily never really got attached to it, not as much as her Mother thought and really hoped she would. It was always felt like there was smoke there, too much to breathe comfortably, but enough to keep them alive. The air was corrupt, someone said. Someone she trusted.

She’s forgetting something. Who is she looking for?

No one, she thinks. Lily wanted to see the forest, and she’s getting what she came here for.

Lily didn’t walk for long before she passed an old-looking tree, one with handprints all over it. Its twisted brown trunk stretched a long way up. Its leaves were gorgeous green, tilted up in a prideful way. Her hand brushed against the wood and felt the happiness radiating from it.

It was a Quinsel Wood tree, Lily recognized. And it was smiling.

“Who decorated you, Mister Quinsel?” Lily asked, her voice childish and curious.

“Why, my children, little child.”

“Where are they now?”

Its branches lowered slightly, leaves dipping lower but not by much. The buzzing dimmed beneath Lily’s hand, too little to notice by anyone else not familiar with the telegraphing of a tree’s emotions. Lily could tell the tree was happier a mere moment before.

The Quinsel Wood tree is still smiling, but now it feels sadder.

“A place far, far away. But in my memory as well.”

Lily hummed, too young to truly understand.

“Can I meet them?”

The Quinsel Wood tree was fond now, or at least, that’s what Lily guessed.

“Someday, you may.”

It has been a while since Lily last saw the Quinsel Wood tree. She couldn’t really tell how long; time still seemed like a foreign subject to her. Watches weren’t something that she just had, even at home. Reading watches seemed too hard to do, anyway. Not that it matters, or mattered.

When he finally found her, it was too late. His time ran out, and Mother took her.

The ball didn’t matter to him anymore; there was a reason he told her to let it go if it got too far.She mattered to him more than the ball ever did.

But he was too late. She was gone.

Lily lost track of time.

Now she could hear humming, not that she really knew from where. It was almost like an orchestra; so many voices overlapping each other to make a beautiful melody.

Lily followed the songs to a field, flowers of all shapes and sizes everywhere she looked. Colors among colors of white poppies, Myosotis, lotus, and so much more, swaying to the tones. Almost as if it were tones of their own.

And from the looks of it, they were.

“Beautiful,” Lily said, eyes widening in awe.

The melody floated in the air, as light as a feather, twirling and twisting like a ribbon caught in the breeze. It danced and danced like sunlight on water, shimmering and playful, impossible to catch. The flowers sang of voices both mournful and sweet, their notes lingering in the air like the scent of rain. The high notes sparkled, bright and cheerful, while the lower tones rumbled with a quiet strength, grounding her in the moment. She closed her eyes, letting the music pull her away from the noise of the world. It was a song of youth, a promise whispered in a language only Lily could understand.

When Lily opened her eyes, the sun was deeper in the sky, shining its bare golden light out in the open, reflecting onto the sea of flowers. The light spills over the endless expanse of flowers, each petal catching the sun’s final rays and glowing as if lit from within.

The flowers, vibrant and abundant, seem to bow in reverence to the setting sun, their colors deepening in the fading light. The golden glow of the sun stretches across the horizon, covering the petals with a warm, beautiful blanket.

The air is perfumed with the sweet, earthy scent of the flowers, taking in the coolness of the approaching night. A gentle breeze whispers through the field, as if joining the descent of the flowers’ rhythm—a sound as soothing as the lapping of waves on a distant shore. To Lily, it was a scene where time seemed to pause, and her heart filled with overflowing awe.

As the sun dips lower, the sky takes on a deeper shade of purple, and the flowers seem to close in unison, tucking themselves in for the night. It is a moment of quiet music, where the beauty of the earth and sky meet in perfect harmony, before the song came to an end.

To Lily, it was as if she had only now realized that she was now existing. At first, she was floating in the ocean of flowers, and only now was she back on shore.

But maybe she was drowning.

It was when someone called her name that Lily realized that she was hypnotized. What she once thought was a gorgeous melody was now a call to forget. To forget your surroundings, forget where you are, what you came for.

It was a Siren’s call, Lily learned later. A melody to lure you in, to make you forget, so you have no reason to leave.

Lily always had someone to remind her.

Who was she looking for again?

Lily looked around her, but didn’t recognize any of her surroundings. The sun was no longer in the sky; the moon was now bright and full, where the sun had been. It was shining, high and proud.

It was a white ball, plain and simple. If she could just find it, he would be so impressed!

Now if she could just-

The humming in her ears interrupted that thought.

It was nighttime, and even the trees were tucked in for the hours of darkness. The nocturnals were only just waking, going about their routine, the one they had followed every day before and would continue to follow every day after.

A sudden gust of wind breezed, nearly making Lily fall to her feet. It was then she felt how sore her feet were from standing for so long.

She has been standing there listening for hours, and now she is lost.

She has been standing there listening for hours, and now she is lost.

She needs to go home!

That house was never her own.

She needs to find her mother!

The woman she is thinking of was never her mom.

…What was she doing again?

What is she forgetting?

Lily has been eight for a long time.