Appearing taller in his dreams one by one he faced them, now no bigger than the small boy who blinked back tears. He was so scared each breath gasped his fear.
What were they planning to do with him?
Trapped and cowering, his pleas plummeting with no reply of mercy into the forest pit, eyes stared back impervious to his cries. Fear kneaded an alien sensation in him. Neurons mistaking the chemistry of adrenalin stimulated a spasm of muscles; teeth clenched shut on a limp tongue, a bloody shredding gnashing of a brain reversing back on itself.
An unprotected limb fracturing, a slingshot tree diverted attention by the severing of a bough, leaves rattled a rustling percussion finding a rest in peace thud.
“I am not afraid of your coward ways.”
“I see all of you now.”
A pack of sour boys who found merit in taking victims to step upon to make themselves bigger in their own minds.
That day fear had grown his own slingshot forest of protection.
Today he uprooted that fear from his backbone and took a small boy out of the forest to be a man with better dreams.