Jennifer Crothers
Short Story
Final
3/15/2006
The Story of Grot
The forest was as green and as lively as ever. The birds were singing their morning serenade; the plants were stretching their leaves in the morning sun, while the animals were playfully talking to one another. I suppose this is what I how I would like to start off my story, but unfortunately this story that I’m about to tell you has a much more gloomy and far more unpleasant sound to it.
The forest was like the undead, alive in a sense, but with no soul. There were no happy little fuzzy animals cheerfully chirping or twittering throughout these thick and weedy woods. Everything in this forest seemed to be angry for what ever reason. The trees were gnarled and misshapen, their roots twisted and tangled in knots. No birds flying above, well, not that you would notice if they were. The thick canopy gave hardly any leeway for light to shine through. It was the dead of the night in this dreary forest. Moonlight crept through whatever opening in the canopy it could find, while the twinkling of glowing green lightening bugs lit up the forest ground. Why so much anger in these woods, what could have possibly happened to these poor woodland creatures, you might say. Well, I suppose it is my job to tell you their story, but first let me introduce myself. My name is Gnarginoff, I am a creature of this forest that I speak of. This particular forest is called the Forest of Grot. (The word “Grot” meaning anger)
You see, a long time ago, when I was just a young hamadryad or “tree nymph”, Grot was a lively and spirited place to live. Everything was as it should be, the forest was happy. I grew up on the north end of this large forest with my mother and father. My mother was a Draiad and my father was an Oak tree. Draiads were immortal nymphs of the forest, unlike many other nymphs. They were found living in large oak trees within the forest walls. The only problem that most Draiads face is that if the tree they live in is cut down or dies, they die along with it. Unfortunately, this is where my story starts off.
My Father and mother had just died in a suspicious forest fire. I however survive this event much to my surprise. You see, I was a young age of 10 and was off visiting my cousin, Hepinott of Heem. Heem was another forest on the other side of the Gratha Split. The forest of Grot burned for days, and during those few days I was on my journey home with no knowledge of what was happening to my home and family. Once I reached the border between Grot and Heem I looked passed the Gratha Split, and saw what was left of my forest. Smoke and ash filled the air and my lungs. Thousands of trees and animals lay singed on the ground. My friends, I thought, who would do such a thing to these innocent creatures? A rush of fear ran through my branches and roots as I quickened my pace towards my haven where just days ago, my mother and father stood, happy and content.
As I reached the Marsh of Grot, thick smog swirled over the swampy water creating a lump deep within my stomach. My parents were no where insight and neither were any of my friends of the forest. Panic soon struck my mind and I began tearing through the ruble of the burnt trees and brush. I must have searched for hours on end, through each thicket and cave, but still I found nothing. Not a single soul alive and well. I was alone.
Beautiful Grot had now become a desolate waste land of ash and cinders. Friends and family now lost in a blaze of anger and sadness. I was lost without them, what was I to do now? I guess the only thing left to do was to find what caused this horrendous tragedy. Grief soon turned to denial, denial then turned to anger as I began to make my way north. Once I came to Naiad Bend I decided to stop for the night and rest. I quickly made my nest and rooted to the ground. Night fall came quickly to the forest. Darkness gave new meaning to loneliness and anger. A few days went by, night turned into day, day into night and soon I soon found my anger turning me into a hideous creature. I was no longer myself, no longer beautiful and young with the heart of gold. My appearance was now withered, gnarled and foul looking. Within me my heart was consumed by hate and bitterness. I have turned into something my friends and family had feared.
I now understood that I must be alone in my journey; there is no use for friends along the way, they would only interfere with my search. Night fell again onto the dead forest as I slowly began to uproot myself from my safe rest place. Thoughts started racing through my mind as I walked northward toward Shingledon. Who, what, and why were questions that consistently haunted my head. “I must find out! I must find out!” I thought as the anger continued to spread throughout my body and into even the smallest of my roots. This thought fueled me and I began to quicken my pace as much as I could.
Shingledon was a big forest just north of Grot. This forest is home to many strange creatures. Not many such as myself entered into this forest alone, for there were many enemies here, or so I was told. My family often told me of a darkness that hangs over the upper marshes of Shingledon. Not one of them could tell me why there was such a dark cloud over this area; in fact, I don’t think they really understood it either. There have always been rumors of a dark nymph that lives there, but no one dares go there to find out for themselves. But, for me, this is where I must go. There was a certain something telling me that what I was searching for lies just within those grotesque marshes.
