Blogtober 2025, Day 2: Flourish
Every small town has its dares, and for Pleasant Hollow, it
was Lucy’s Path. The woods behind the elementary school weren’t much—thin
trees, muddy roots, a tangle of briars—but everyone knew the story. Lucy
vanished there, and folks said she still walked it, humming in the dark.
On a brisk October night, four teenagers gathered by the
rusted swing set, flashlights buzzing with weak batteries. “Come on,” said
Mark, the oldest. “We walk the path, reach the oak, tie a ribbon, and we’re
legends.” He twirled his flashlight with a theatrical flourish, like he was
leading a parade instead of tempting fate.
Emily tugged her jacket tighter. “People say the woods don’t
let you out if you go too far.”
“That’s just part of the story,” laughed Tyler, though his
voice cracked.
Sarah kicked at the gravel. “So why does no one ever go past
the oak?”
The group stood in silence, listening to the wind hiss
through the chain-link fence. Then, one by one, they ducked through the gap
where the fence had been peeled back years ago. The path waited for them,
narrow and dark, as if it had been expecting visitors looking to take the dare.
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