Chapter 1- The Den

I found myself with the chills as I wondered up the road toward the mountain side. This was the third time this week that I had visited the den, but I found it was one of the few things that settled my mind when everything seemed to be out of place. I just needed a vacation. My own personal get away. This was about as close as I could get without having to spend any money or worry about catching up on school work.

The den was the small area on the mountain side just a few yards up from the houses that bordered the wilderness. My dad always told me stories of how he and his brothers would venture up in the hills when they were boys, and make believe they were cops and robbers, or army men, or even cowboys for hours on end. I had always wanted a place of my own- a tree house, club house, anything- to think in, to play in, and just to get away from the world. Years ago when my dad took me on a hike to show me the area where he had always played, and I decided this was the place for me. Secluded, clear, quite, and simple; yet so amazing and unique all at once, I knew it was perfect from the beginning.

When the road hit a dead end, I took the trail that lead closer to my escape. I snuggled closer to my loose hoodie for more warmth, it was a surprisingly cold for even an autumn evening. I made my way off the trail onto my own unseen pathway. The leaves were beautiful this time of year, the scrub oak seemed almost like a pallet of vibrant yellows and reds; blended together to make a exquisite disarray of color.

I continued on until I was at the opening in the cliff side where I had spent many hours the days before. I guess this was my way of venting, or relaxing, or whatever you wanted to call it. It was my time, and that’s all that really mattered to me. I could do whatever I wanted up here. My only restriction was getting back to the house before it got dark. That was easy enough, the den was only 15 or 20 minutes away, probably less. Regardless, my mind was at ease.

It was a nice, just to chill and have no cares in the world. At 15 I was sort of different from most girls. I was a tomboy, and I was sarcastic, sure, but I had my deep thoughtful side that most people never saw. And I never really got into all the latest fashions or most fabulous hairstyles. I just stuck to my jeans, t-shirt, sneakers and a hoodie combo, and it always worked out well for me. Some people might call me plain, with my golden brown eyes, dirty blonde hair, and pale white skin, but I couldn’t care less what they think.

Oh, where are my manners, my name is Arianna, but most people just call me Ari for short. It’s Italian for very holy, which I find rather ironic considering how I act. Holy is the last word someone might use to describe me.

It was starting to get late, so I decided to pack up and head home. I doubted anyone would notice how long I was gone for, so I wasn’t to worried about getting home right on time. Next thing I knew it started to rain, so I picked up the pace so I could get home before I was completely soaked.