Naomi walks away from Emmy and into the woods.
Naomi: No double dare was needed. I was going to walk to the other side of the wood, then creep around the edge and scare the shit out of Emmy. If she could be all weird, playing mind fuck games, then so could I. I could picture her standing there, empty bottle in hand, so small against the trees. Waiting for me. Already regretting her dare.
The further I went into the woods, the clearer the way became. It was darker here among the trees, the sounds of the town muted. The smell of stale booze and tarmac replaced by wet earth and wood smoke. The taste of Emmy was still on my tongue. She was pissing me off, but as I wandered through the woods I couldn’t help thinking about the heat of her. The soft skin. The secret wet places. The way she would squeal and jump into my arms when I got back. And then it wasn’t Emmy. It was someone else, someone older, stronger. A woman, not a girl. A bitch goddess warrior queen. The wicked witch from my childhood, from stories. Someone whose knowledge would seep into me like the sweet drip of honey.
Naomi stumbles across a 1970’s style concrete hut, with “Danger of Death” signs covering it. She is about to walk past when the front door opens.