Inkling 2025 - Flipbook - Page 29
distant, and wrong. That was the moment I
knew—I was becoming.
The mist coiled around me like a blanket.
Gentle. Icy. Familiar.
It whispered, Welcome home.
It told me the truth. These Elris were not
born in the forest—they were made. They
were all the ones who had vanished.
Lost people. Forgotten people. Betrayed,
hunted, changed. We were the warning. We
were the memory no one wanted.
Once, I tried to carve the words They Are Us
into the earth. But before I could 昀椀nish, the
mist rose and wiped it away.
Now, I am Elris.
I soar above Featherfalls, watching as the
townspeople continue their lives, smiling,
killing, forgetting. Children run with
feathered kites. Old hunters still tell stories
about “a perfect shot through the heart.”
The past is gone. And no one wants it back.
I scream into the wind. I whisper the truth.
I circle over rooftops and brush against
windows, hoping someone, anyone, will
hear.
But they only hear the wind.
The fog remains. The forest waits. And
humans … keep forgetting …
Helen is a runner-up in
the Short Story category
for this year’s Teen
Writing Contest.
INKLING 2025 | 29
