The Legend of Youngs Corner X

PART X
The Abandoned Path

Watching all sides of the street, our small caravan continued up the hill. We crossed the bridge that stretched over the creek, a creek that flowed out of the forest, the same creek that my family and I had rested by during that winter day when I first saw the cabins. I was doing my best to keep that memory in my mind. My memory was the only proof that the cabins existed and now my friends were relying on it to safely guide them through the Northern Woods. Except now, I’d have to find the cabins at the peek of night.

When we were about half-way up the hill, I gathered the group into a small circle and discussed our next move. To the right of the road was an old path that lead onto the field; a path once used by farmers who worked the land 150 years before. We took the path and entered the field. Far to our left, by the edge of Youngs Corner Rd. was my house, where my parents were, and apparently they were still awake. All the lights were on in the house. I made sure my friends were extra quiet even though the house stood a good 200 meters away. So, quietly and secretly, we made our way across the field. Knee-deep in weeds and hay-grass and surrounded by the eerie green glow of fireflies, we kept our straight line. Soon the terrain rose as we approached the hill of the forest.

After about a 20-minute journey, our group had reached a flattened area of ground. And to our right lay the abandoned path. It was a pure black hole, surrounded by the wall of the forest. It looked like a cave, and it beckoned us to come closer. With our flash-lights ready, and our senses on high alert, we approached the path, the entrance to the forest. Without the lights we could see nothing, not even 5 feet in front of us; everything was covered by the veil of darkness. This was one of the scariest moments of my life. I had not entered these woods since that winter of 1996.

Who knew what we would come across? Who knew if she was still alive?