In the Style of an: Allegory
The boys travelled East on a brisk winters morning. The forest was dense and unforgiving, the trails could easily be lost if you were not paying attention. There were twelve of them: Alex, Adam, Jasper, John, Bert, Raymond, George, William, Joseph, Nick, Richard and Charles. George was the leader, because of a democratic vote, followed by his best friend Jasper. George was skinny, but taller than the rest, his hair was jet black, his nose was thin, and his lips were full. Jasper was short, and stubby, his hair was a dirty blond, and features had been lost in his face due to the fat under his chin and on his cheeks. Some of the weaker boys fell behind when travelling through the forest, their feat scraped on the soft mud beneath their feet.
After three hours of walking a black squirrel started to follow the boys. It was bushy and looked friendly. It didn’t interact with any of the other boys. The ground hardened, the trees parted, and the sun burst through. The boys loved the squirrel; it brought them luck they couldn’t have imagined. Their feet no longer squelched under them, and their back-backs didn’t feel as heavy. George kept a watchful eye on their guest. He didn’t understand why it would take the time to be with them. He didn’t think they were all that interesting.
They set up camp for the first night. They took all the necessary precautions, making sure the tents were correctly pegged, all zips were secure, and their bellies were full. In the early evening the squirrel stood upright, and looked into the infinite darkness that lay before him. It didn’t move. The boys soon drifted into unconsciousness and dreams pursued. As for George, he lay awake and waited for the right moment; the right moment to get out of the tent and go over to the squirrel. When he did depart from his shared tent he just about saw the black squirrel because one candle lit in the middle of the camp. George took good care in trying not to disturb the creature, until he was right behind it. George wrapped his hands round the animal and broke its neck. Jasper saw all of it. George accidently awoke him when he opened the tent.
Jasper told everyone the next morning. George was highly disappointed in him. The squirrel was wrapped around his bag. When Jasper sprung to mind in his head he wanted to punch the trunk of a tree. He was demoted from the leader of the group and Jasper was obviously promoted. Jasper looked like a pig, George thought. When walking that day the mud and puddles become unbearable. Make a wrong step and a boys leg would be lost. The bushes and trees became so close together that they had to go single file to stop bumping into one another. Raymond was the first to speak to George, ‘That squirrel gave us luck. The ground was hard and the trees were far.’ George didn’t reply, he did not want to humour such a gullible fool. At lunch they discovered the crate of full water bottles had gone missing. It was soon found out that Alex had forgotten the crate at the last camp sight. Everybody sighed with dried throats.
Night soon fell and the boys bickered as to how to ration their food, and who deserved the most and who deserved the least. George and Alex deserved the least, they decided. As they set up their tents they heard footsteps coming their way. Everyone became on edge, they were petrified it could be a mad man. Two figures soon immerged from the darkness. One was a woman. One was a man. The woman was in red. And the man in black. The woman looked like love. And the man looked like death. Could it be? It turned out they were looking for directions to the way out the forest. George told them, and they headed west, hand in hand.
The next day wasn’t so bad, apart from one small thing. Everybody died, or seemed to anyway. It was midday, and the boys were having a rest. George was standing up, he looked like hell. All of the other boys were lying on the soft earth, all of their mouths opened simultaneously and white shadows lifted into the sky. It created a cloud above George’s bewildered head; it was not a dark cloud, but a rather light one. He pondered and cried for a while wondering desperately what to do. He couldn’t leave them, but he didn’t want to die with them. He ended up waiting five hours, thirty eight minutes and a couple of seconds. In this age George appreciated the nature surrounding him. The wind whistling, the birds singing songs to their significant other and the vibrant colours the forest had to offer, which hardly anybody would see. He thought just because a lake that is in a middle of forest, which nobody will ever see doesn’t make it any less beautiful and serene. As he thought this thought at five hours, thirty eight minutes and a couple of seconds the cloud of souls above his head plummeted back into the bodies of the boys surrounding him. The squirrel from George’s bag fell onto the leaves, and rested peacefully.
All of the boys awoke from what seemed like a deep slumber. They all looked at George and nothing sprung to mind. The trees appeared to part and a main road was in front of them. They left the forest and never returned. George saw an old lady walking down the street the next day; he grabbed her and told her everything.
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