The Grove

The little girl is running, she is being chased; she cannot see who or what it is through the trees. The wind is blowing hard and she is cold. The trees grab at her smock and her hair; the harder she tries to free herself the more she becomes tangled. The sun is starting to set and soon night will fall upon this grove of trees. With what little strength she has left she pulls herself free from the branches that are holding her. She is crying as she hears her father calling her name. Where i...