The Icehouse Bonfire

         Lost in the forest was the last place she needed to be. It was definitely the last place she wanted to be. In a few more hours it was bound to be dark and she had no light except her lighter. All around her were the sounds of nature. All she could see were trees.
         A branch snapped four feet to her left. She took off running, never once looking back.
         Four or five hours now, she didn’t know which; she couldn’t remember how long she’d been lost. Not that it mattered anymore. She never imagined she’d be lost in a forest, afraid she’d never get out alive. Earlier in the night her biggest worries were not getting too drunk and catching Matt Harley’s eye.
         It was Matt Harley’s fault she’d even left her house.
         Now I’ll never get my English homework done. Feeny will chew me out again, flashed through her mind as she hid in a brush.
         The Icehouse bonfire had sounded like such a good idea and he’d offered her a ride.
         “The Icehouse is haunted,” he told her.
         Supposedly research can prove it wrong but the place still creeped her out; even more now.
         Thinking she heard a growl behind her, she darted out of the brush. A bird squawked to his mate; in the distance a response was heard. She jumped all the same and veered to her right.
         Mom always said that when lost in the country, right leads to town. She hoped that would apply to the forest as well.
         The ground began an incline and she stopped. She leaned down and tried to light a cigarette. She took a couple of puffs as she tried to shield the bulls-eye glow. She put it out and pulled her cell phone out. Bravely she checked for service. She slid it quickly back in her pocket with a little less hope in her heart.
         She had to pee again but if she stopped any longer she’d loose the little light left. The dark was creeping closer by the second.
         All of a sudden she’d heard voices somewhere off to her left. After several minutes and she’d still not gotten any closer, she called out. “Help! Help me please!”
         No response came but she heard more voices back behind her. Thinking the worse lay behind, she took off in the direction of the first voices.
         “Please,” she called as she ran towards the voices.
         She could make out some of their words and apparently Ronald Donahue was a very sick man.
         Have I lost my voice, she thought when they still ignored her.
         The voices were coming from right in front of her and then suddenly they veered to the left just a little. She didn’t move as quick.
         The voices from behind slid to a halt and waited in silence as a splat was heard from down below.