I am 8 years old. I see a 9 foot viper nearby, ra
I am 8 years old. I see a 9 foot viper nearby, razor sharp fangs gleaming in the sunlight. It slithered closer. Human, why are you here It hissed. I…got lost I whimper. It revealed a line of razor sharp jaws. AHHHHHHHH! I yell. What the fuck? I say. Child, You should not be saying that!! It said in anger.
The sun beat down on my bare arms, turning the forest floor into a shimmering, green mirage. I was lost, hopelessly lost, and the thick, humid air pressed down on me like a heavy blanket. I had wandered off the path, chasing a butterfly with wings like stained glass, and now, the trees seemed to mock me with their silent, watchful gaze.
Then I saw it.
A viper, nine feet of coiled muscle and scales, lay sunning itself on a fallen log. Its eyes, like two golden buttons, stared at me with an unsettling intelligence. Its fangs, sharp as needles, gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the terror that was slowly taking root in my eight-year-old heart.
It slithered closer, its forked tongue tasting the air, and I could feel the earth tremble under its weight.
“Human,” it hissed, its voice surprisingly deep and guttural, “Why are you here?”
My throat closed up, and all I could manage was a choked whimper, “I…got lost.”
The viper’s head tilted, its gaze piercing. It revealed a line of razor-sharp teeth, the tips glinting like polished diamonds.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” I screamed, the primal fear of a child facing a predator escaping my lips.
A moment passed, then, “What the fuck?” I blurted out, my fear morphing into shock.
The viper recoiled, a ripple of displeasure passing through its scales. “Child,” it said, its voice laced with anger, “You should not be saying that!”
I stared at the magnificent creature, my mind reeling. A talking viper, a monstrously large viper, that scolded me for swearing. My eight-year-old brain struggled to process the absurdity of it all.
The viper, sensing my confusion, sighed. “Look, I understand this might be shocking, but I’m not the only one who speaks here. This whole forest is full of magic, and we are all a part of it. You should not be here, child. This is not a place for humans.”
He pointed his head towards the path. “Go back the way you came. And try not to be so rude.”
He slithered away, leaving me standing alone, the sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting strange, elongated shadows. I looked at the path he had pointed to, and for a moment, the forest seemed less hostile, more…alive. I knew I was in a place that existed beyond the understanding of my eight-year-old mind, a place of magic and mystery.
I turned and walked back, the image of the talking viper etched in my memory, a secret shared only between us, a whisper from the heart of the forest that I carried with me forever.
