Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24694408-20140324165203/@comment-24694408-20140402195616

Okay, here's an updated version:

Rejected

When I was younger, I used to be part of the Scouts. I’m glad I was part of the organisation as they taught me some great skills and helped me build my self-esteem. At the time of being part of them, I questioned whether I should continue going as it was late and I had a lot of homework to do, but now I am glad I stayed. As you may know, the Scouts do a lot of camps, often in the forest. These forests are usually owned by them though and are not available for public access. During my time with them I went on a lot of camps, but one still sticks out in my mind. That’s only because of some recent events though.

It was 1:30am and I was in the middle of my local camp in my tent. At this point I must have only been about 13. I never have been and never will be an adventurous person, so when you need the toilet at this time, in the middle of the night, it kinda sucks. I had 2 choices. Wait out the night but risk peeing myself or go in the middle of the night. I picked the latter of the two because the endless ridicule of the other Scout members, if I peed myself, would be hell in comparison to just sneaking out to the toilet. I shook my friend awake and whispered:

‘I need the toilet’

‘So…’ He replied

‘I’m a scaredy cat, can you come with me?’

He looked at me with an ‘are you serious’ face but he said he needed to go as well, so he agreed to come with me. We put our boots and coats on and walked out into the forest. I remember being pretty desperate and thinking ‘why did I drink that extra hot chocolate?’ We speed walked to the toilet blocks and did what I set out to do. As I walked out, the lights from the toilet blocks just shut off.

I said under my breath ‘Are you serious…’

‘No biggy, scaredy cat.’ My friend replied.

I rolled my eyes and walked through the forest. My friend had his torch on him so we used that to see where we were going. I heard a distant rustling in the trees. I yelled out

‘If this is some sick practical joke, then well done. You can go back now’

The rustling continued. My friend looked at me as if to say ‘Let’s go after them’ and we ran after who we thought would be some idiots. We walked into the darkness for about 3 minutes. A small shadow of a person, sitting against a tree appeared in front of us. We slowly approached the strange thing.

‘Knock it off’ my friend yelled.

I started breathing heavily as ideas of what it could be flooded my mind; my mind has a very active imagination. A murderer, is he going to kill me? No. It’s just a dumb kid. Maybe he got lost or something. In this wood? This wood is too small to get lost.

‘Look mate, if you want to scare us then you’ve done your job. Go back to bed.’ My friend yelled once again.

I waited for the person to jump up and yell at us. Nothing. We walked up to the person and my friend shone his light onto the person. He was bald, something which no-one at the camp was and he just sat there, not moving. We looked at him. I stood frozen, breathing heavily, my heart racing, waiting for something to happen. Looking at him, I wondered whether he was dead; he was breathing though.

<p class="MsoNormal">‘Help’ he slowly said as he gasped for breath.

<p class="MsoNormal">At that moment we legged it, hoping to get back to the camp as quickly as possible, which we did in less than two minutes. The light of the leader’s tent flickered on.

<p class="MsoNormal">‘Oh crap.’ I said

<p class="MsoNormal">‘Thanks a ton!’ my friend said to me.

<p class="MsoNormal">The leader walked up to us and said

<p class="MsoNormal">‘What the hell are you doing? You should be in bed!’ he said firmly to us in a whispered voice.

<p class="MsoNormal">We explained to him what happened and he dismissed it, saying that

<p class="MsoNormal">‘You have such active imaginations.’

<p class="MsoNormal">Who wouldn’t say that; if it was me, I would say that. We went back to our tent and went back to sleep. The camp after that proceeded as normal, nothing really happened. When my mum asked me what happened, I told her about the camp and avoided talking about the man.

<p class="MsoNormal">Currently, I am a semi-professional journalist for the small town I live in. Unfortunately, nothing really happens in my area, so when there was a fire at the old scout camp, I was told to go check it out for the newspaper I was working with at the time. Once I got there, I found that the old play area had been burnt down and took a few photos and notes. I heard rustling in a bush behind the large play equipment, which I quickly followed, hoping to get some annoying kids in trouble.

<p class="MsoNormal">‘Come on man! This is a private area! I’m a journalist with permission. I’ll report you for trespassing.’ I yelled at him

<p class="MsoNormal">Going through the bush, what I saw startled me. The silhouette of a man sitting against a tree, in the exact same place of where I saw him several years earlier. I approached him, assuming he was dead. The man was just sitting against the tree, wrinkled and bald, older than when I saw him those years earlier. He had a piece of paper. It said ‘rejected’. Looking at his stomach, I noticed that he was still breathing, but at an unbelievably slow rate as if he was in hibernation. I kneeled down to look at him. His face just stared into mine, with his seemingly soulless eyes that never seemed to blink, dark rings around his eyes like he hadn’t slept for days.

<p class="MsoNormal">Slowly, I stepped backwards, feeling my heart racing and feeling the pounding in my ears, and breathing heavily. At that point, I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I have talked to him or should I have legged it, like at the scout camp. I speed walked out of the forest, feeling uneasy as if somebody was looking at me and the silence was different. It was eerie and the birds didn’t chirp and the rustling of the leaves seemed different. Maybe it was just my brain being delusional. I knew then, however, what I saw at the scout camp was not my imagination.

<p class="MsoNormal">Driving home in my car, I wasn’t quite sure what to think. Whether I was afraid, startled or puzzled didn’t matter because I knew I had seen something out of the ordinary. I checked the official definition of the word rejected: ‘'' dismiss as inadequate, unacceptable, or faulty. ’ Or ‘ refuse to agree to (a request)''. ’ Had this man remembered me and my refusal to help him? But how had he survived and why was he sitting there that particular day?

<p class="MsoNormal"> I got back to the newspaper I was writing for and I showed the photos of the burned down play equipment ready for the report before realising I had forgotten to take photos of the strange man, who just sat against the tree. I then contemplated whether that would have been the right thing to do, with privacy laws and everything.  

<p class="MsoNormal">That night, I had a nightmare, which was funny because I very rarely got nightmares. They happen though so it wasn’t a huge deal. I dreamt that I was in bed. I looked out of window to see a shadowy figure at the far end of my garden. I went back to bed in my dream but couldn’t get to sleep, so I looked outside my window once again. The shadowy figure was closer. I continued this until it got closer to the window. The most vivid memory of the dream was me standing at the window, the figure getting closer. I blinked and the figure flashed and stood right outside my window, getting closer, ready to open it.

<p class="MsoNormal">At that moment, I woke up. It was raining heavily; so much so that there was lightning. I walked into my bathroom and washed my hands, looking down. As I looked up into the mirror, lightning flashed and in the background was the face of the man I had saw during the day and that night while in the Scouts.

<p class="MsoNormal">Drenched in sweat, I swung up from my bed, clenching my heart. My shaking hands pinched my arm to make sure I was properly awake. The world seemed different from the dreams I had experienced and the pinch was painful, so I knew that I was definitely the real world this time.

<p class="MsoNormal">‘A dream within a dream’ I thought ‘Huh, maybe I’ve watched Inception too many times.’

<p class="MsoNormal">It was still night but I knew that I wasn’t going to be sleeping again for a bit. That was when I heard banging and walking downstairs. Quickly, I grabbed my phone and got ready to call the police as well as a weapon, if I had to resort to that. Walking down the stairs, I anticipated something, so my heart started racing once again. I turned the lights on and looked around. Nothing was broken, stolen or even moved in the kitchen, living room or dining room. Not even a trace of anyone even coming in, nothing.

<p class="MsoNormal">‘Just my imagination’ I whispered to myself as I went back to bed.

<p class="MsoNormal">The next morning, I opened up my computer and did my usual morning routine. Eat breakfast, check e-mails, all that kind of stuff. I closed my Internet Browser down and noticed something different about my home page. I scanned it with my eyes and found that there was a new icon. It was a text icon but it had no name or file extension. Hesitantly, I opened it up. Notepad opened up. There was a word. A single word. A word that startled me; ‘Why.’