The Bear | Teen Ink

The Bear

September 24, 2015
By FelisSilvestris GOLD, Princeton, New Jersey
FelisSilvestris GOLD, Princeton, New Jersey
10 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Eyes wide open and staring at the dark ceiling of my tent, I debated whether or not I had to go now. Biting my lip and fidgeting, I tried to fall back to into my dreams so that I could wait until it was light out to use the campsite bathroom. This “bathroom”  was the forest, and the “toilet” a tree my mother and I had selected earlier in the day.

At night, however, the woods were probably filled with all sorts of animals. Most of which would be harmless, like squirrels and deer, but occasionally something less friendly was sighted. Like a bear. Cursing my pea-sized bladder, I decided that there was little possibility of me being able to wait until dawn, no matter how much I dreaded going out in the dark.

Glancing at my parents tucked into sleeping bags and snoring soundly beside me, I decided it would be cruel to wake one of them for an escort. Or perhaps I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle going out for even just five minutes, and that my fear was something I could master on my own. Reaching my decision, I grabbed a flashlight, pulled aside the tent flap and stumbled outside, breathing in the cool nighttime air.

The moon was only a thin claw in the sky, and there was very little starlight. I shivered, my gaze darting across the clearing in which we had set up our tent. Nothing moved, but many shadows lurked in the corners of my vision, perfect hiding spots for predatory creatures on the prowl. I gulped, imagining hundreds of little eyes staring hungrily. It was too easy to see the scenario. A girl foolishly leaving her tent in the night, only to be--
Stop it, I told myself. You’re being ridiculous.

Moving forward quickly, I swung my light from side to side, telling myself that I was searching for the chosen tree, but really investigating every leering shadow. I stumbled on rocks and tripped on tree roots, feeling as though every time yelped alerted more animals to my presence. Having found my tree and completed my mission, I turned, intending to trudge back to the tent and sleep away what remained of the night, and froze, my body as rigid as petrified wood.

It seemed as if the little determination I’d had that had gotten me this far had run out. I remembered the reason I hadn’t wanted to leave the safety of my sleeping bag once again, but this time without any force to propel me forward such as trying not to wet myself. I had laughed at my father that afternoon as he fretted about bears coming through our camp. I had said that black bears were only interested in our food, just like flies or mice, and that they never attacked humans unless they were protecting their young.

It’s easy enough to be brave with your family in the comfort of the sun. Suddenly the woods seemed very dark, and the tent very far away indeed. Somewhere behind me, a twig snapped. Scarcely daring to breathe, I tried to remember everything I could about bears. Did they have good eyesight? What about smell? Were they fast?

Nocturnal? Suddenly I couldn’t remember. Another branch cracked, louder and closer, making me jump. I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t necessarily a bear. It could be any manner of creature. I didn’t even know that there was a creature out there. Those branches could be breaking for some other reason, like decay, or too much weight from a toppled neighboring tree. Yes, that would be it, dead trees crack and fall all the time.

I had nearly convinced myself, and I was working up the courage to start marching back to the clearing, when the unmistakable crunch of a footstep on dry leaves reached me. It was then that I was hit by the unreasonable yet unwavering certainty that there was an animal, that it was coming for me, and that it was most definitely a black bear. I tried to quell the panic that rose up in my chest, whimpering slightly. There, was that a grunt? Those shadowy leaves over there, did they just move?

My pulse swished through my ears as I decided that I had to start moving. I forced one leg forward at a time, doing my best not to consider what might happen. My confidence grew as I heard no more noises, and I slowly moved from a jerking crawl to a slow walk. I did remember that bears gave chase when their quarry tried to run.
Maybe twenty feet behind me, I heard a huff, freezing me in my tracks.

Oh no. Flashlight quivering, I concluded that I had to turn around. I had to show that I wasn’t afraid, or at least that I wouldn’t be easy prey. Maybe I could blind it with my light, or, or something…. I tried to swing around, but found that I couldn’t. My fear had paralyzed me thoroughly.

Scolding myself, I shuffled slowly around, praying that there would be nothing behind me, that I had imagined everything I thought I had heard in some half dreaming state. I never got the chance to look.

“Hey! Hey, Annika! You alright, kiddo?”

My mother had come out of the tent while I was distracted, and was now picking her way towards me from the end of the dark trail, lantern swinging. She cursed under her breath as she tripped over the same rocks and branches that I had earlier.

“I thought I told you to wake me if you needed the bathroom! I was worried when I woke up and saw that you were gone! What were you thinking!?”

I didn’t bother to reply. I didn’t have the slightest clue what on earth I’d been thinking, but now I thought that I could cry. I’d never been so relieved in all my life. I followed my mother out of the woods, which seemed a lot smaller now that I had someone with me, nearly forgetting my fright. Two lights were so much brighter, and the overgrown trail was perfect for walking two abreast.

Standing outside the tent as my mother crawled inside, I heard another huff. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I whirled about. A shout died in my throat as I saw, finally, who had been following me through the woods. A doe stood on the edge of the forest, a fawn peeking over her shoulder.

The mother huffed indignantly at me again, flaring her nose and warning me to stay away from her baby, before trotting back along the path. The fawn stumbled along behind her, snapping branches as he tripped. My fear melted away, and I slid inside the tent. My mother was half asleep already, and I planned to follow suit, huddling deep inside my sleeping bag. I was never going to go out at night again, no matter what, I thought as I drifted off. Not a chance.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.