text: “It - It tried to grab me dad, I swear it did”, Lloyd barely got the sentence coherently, he had begun to breathe heavily, and tears streamed from his face. “Lloyd, do you remember the story about the boy who called wolf?” “Ye-Yes dad, I’m - I’m sorry dad”, Lloyd had heard the story plenty of times at this point to get what he was hinting at. But it changed nothing, he knew that continuing would be useless. “Now get your things and go to your room, supper should be ready soon, alright bud?” Lloyd stood sniffling, tears still running down his cheeks and nose. He hung his head low, grabbed his precious notebook and pen, and marched up the stairs. He was careful not to upset his parents any further by putting his sadness into each one of the steps leading to the second floor and into his room. He got inside, closed the door, and sat on the edge of his bed, setting his notebook and pen beside him. Tears were still rolling down his cheeks, but the huffing had finally stopped. Heavy dark clouds were beginning to move into view outside. The sun cast its final red beams across the sky as it gave way to night and the oncoming storm. The wind had begun to pick up, swaying the branches and rustling the leaves of the willow outside his window. An occasional poke and scratch could be heard against the panes just as the rain began to violently pour and clank against the window. The willow was like no other he had ever seen; it overshadowed the house in both height and width, and it had grown so dense that the trunk could hardly be seen at any angle. The branches were like the arms of a giant octopus, waiting to snatch up its next meal and haul you up to its beaked mouth. Upside down, kicking, screaming, and crying, clothed, or unclothed, the creature would hardly care. It was cold and mindlessness way of its nature, it needed to eat, and some poor creature happened upon it. Sorry chump, wrong place, wrong time. Once you were over its beak, it would munch on you bite by bite. First hands, arms, until finally it-clunk. His notebook fell off the bed. He had been so enveloped by the oncoming storm and the willow that he hardly noticed one of his most prized possessions had just begun to slide off the bed. He froze, a slow slither begun to move behind him. His heart was racing, his breathing quickened, as he tuned his ears closer to the noise. It wasn't quite a slimy slither but-but dry. He placed his hands firmly by his sides on the bed. The thoughts darted quickly across his head. *Should I turn around?* *Should I run?* *Run as fast as I can down the stairs only to be told by my parents about the boy who called wolf?* His grip tightened around his mattress, pressing his feet more and more firmly to the ground. He turned around. CLAP. All was silent besides from his breathing and the outside world raining against his windowpane. A leaf floated gently down as if from the ceiling. Lloyd ran.