somewhere far from here...

Somewhere far from here, in a small town, a girl is drinking a bottle of beer with her friends. She grimaces as she takes a sip because it is too bitter for her liking, but she masks it with a laugh. The bottles of her companions clink together as they all yell, "Cheers!" What she doesn't know is that none of her friends like the taste of beer, either. In fact, all of them are grimacing behind their laughs, too. But they all continue this farce, nervously eyeing each other, trying to see whose facade will crack. They are too young to know any better.

None of them are old enough to buy these drinks on their own. Some bottles have been pilfered from no-longer-secret alcohol cabinets, some have been bought by older siblings as a favor, some have been stolen. The teens revel in their forbidden goods. They are giddy with excitement and fear. Some with guilt. But they are all laughing, keeping up the facade.

They think that alcohol makes them more grownup, more composed. But they are drunk. Their movements are slow, and their thoughts are dull. Any and all forms of critical thinking dance their way out of their heads in a conga line of total abandon.

"Let's do something," one of the boys suggests, his voice booming.

"We are doing something," another one laughs. "We're drinking!"

This suddenly reminds them that they still have some drinks remaining, and another round of "Cheers!" bursts through the room in a chorus of voices.

The boy quickly realizes that their collective train of thought has taken a pit stop elsewhere. He clears his throat again.

"No, I mean... Let's go out somewhere!"

"Okay. Where?" one of the girls asks.

"Anywhere!" another answers helpfully.

It takes them a while to decide on where to go. All of their minds are drifting in all directions, making it difficult to come to a consensus. And even when they do decide on where to go, it takes a while for all of them to actually get up and go. For that requires a certain amount of dexterity that none of them currently possess. But at least no one was throwing up. Yet.

The five teens stumble their way out of their secret little treehouse - one of their usual haunts - and make their way to the forest. They amble along the local riverbank, almost falling in, of course, giggling the whole way. Miraculously, they make a game plan. It is time for a game of Truth or Dare. And what better place to play Truth or Dare besides in the forbidden part of the forest?

If there is one thing that is constant amongst teenagers, it is that they always love doing things they aren't allowed to do. Naively, they think it makes them tougher, cooler, edgier. Their chests swell with hubris. But some places are better off left alone.

They recall the tall tales their parents had told them in sleepless nights past. Don't go near the sacred ground, their parents would say. Don't disrespect the shrine. Don'g go in the forest at night. Or you'll get eaten by a monster.

"What monster?" they would ask as children. The answer would be different every time. Sometimes it was a werewolf, other times it was the boogeyman. Or maybe one night it would be a bloodthirsty beast, or maybe a witch disguised as a beautiful woman.

Well, tonight they would prove their parents wrong. There would be no monsters in the forest. Not on their watch.

When they finally reach the shrine, the teens step back to admire it. The ancient structure is bathed in moonlight, and the corners of its roof point upwards, like hands turned towards the sky in prayer.

"Okay," one of them begins, breaking the eerie silence, "I dare somebody to go into that cave over there. Alone."

No one had noticed the cave. They all turn towards the direction the boy is looking in, their heads swiveling as if someone is pulling them along the same string. At the mention of this cave, the forest stills. The hiss of the cicadas, the chirp of crickets, the rustling of leaves in the wind... They disappear. The forest holds its breath. The air is thick with anticipation. Or maybe fear?

One of the girls holds her hand up. "I'll go," she declares loudly, as if her voice will drown out the silence.

She doesn't wait for anyone to say anything and breaks away from the group.

But when she makes her way into the cave, her form disappearing into the inky black, they do not know that is the last they will ever see of her. None of them think to remember the way she looks as she crawls into the cave's gaping mouth, the way her voice had trembled as she said she would go, betraying her act of bravery.

They wait and wait, but she does not come out. They wait some more, and still she does not come out.

"Come on," one of her friends begins, trying to sound nonchalant. "Stop trying to scare us!"

But still she does not come out.

None of them are drunk anymore. Their minds are crystal clear, now, with worry. They decide to split up. One team will continue to wait, and another will go in and search. But the deadly game of waiting never ends well. The longer they wait, the more they worry. And then they start to get scared. And their reason wavers. One by one, they follow each other into the cave, hoping to find the other.

There is something sinister in these woods, but no one has noticed. Not yet, at least.