Misunderstood

Misunderstood


Sitting here on this deserted pier, I can clearly remember the days, weeks, months, and years past. It feels almost like yesterday when everyone stopped coming to the Summer Camps here at the Lake.

Initially I thought it had something to do with what mother did. But overtime I knew it was because of me. At first I didn’t understand what scared them about me but now I do. You see, I suffered a horrible disfigurement during an accident at the lake. When I was a small boy, I nearly drowned in a canoeing accident just off this pier. Thinking that I was dead, mother went into a psychotic rage. Mother did what she thought was best and killed a few people. It wasn’t the right course of action. This I understand. At the end of my mother’s killing spree, she died. I wasn’t happy with what happened but I understand the young woman who killed mother was defending herself. At first I couldn’t understand why. But, over time it became clear.

Living in the abandoned woods around the lake became lonely for me. I had to fight for survival with wolves and bears. I was fortunate in there were many books at the various abandoned cabins. Over the years, I must have read these books hundreds of times each. The books taught me to hunt and fish.

After several years, a group of campers came back to the lake. I became excited because for the first time in nearly 30 years, I had the chance to meet real people again.

Because of what mother did, it scared me to approach the new campers at first. All I did was watch them from different hiding places. As time marched slowly, I saw that one of the young women went walking alone. I knew that my time had come. I was going to introduce myself and perhaps I could make a friend. What I didn’t expect was that she was going to run screaming away from me. While she ran, she tripped on a root and fell headfirst into a tree. After she landed, she stopped moving. It wasn’t my fault. But I felt like it was.

Not long after this happened, the other campers left. Since then, I hide every time campers come to the lake. I’m afraid that if I try to make friends, they will run.

A few years after this happened, a large group of people with bright lights and large cameras came to my woods. There were people that were wearing fake blood all over the place. They looked like they died a gruesome death but walked around like nothing was wrong with them.

When I was a little boy, mother read magazines about movies. These new groups of people dressed like they were making a movie. It excited me because there was a movie filming in my woods. I hide so no one would see me for weeks. During the filming, I enjoyed the excitement.

After Hollywood left my woods, I walked around the campsites where they stayed. That’s when I saw it. It was a folder half buried under leaves and twigs. I dug it from its hiding place and sat to read. It was a gruesome tale. That’s when I understood why the actors looked like they did. All the fake blood made sense. The movie was about me killing people in the woods.

Here I sit on the edge of the pier overlooking Crystal Lake lonelier than I’ve ever felt. Now I know why no one ever visits the lake anymore. Everyone thinks I killed that young woman. Everyone thinks that I’m like mother. They think I’ll kill people for no reason. They think I’m a monster.

How can I be so misunderstood?

(636 words)