The twins were only four years old when it happened. It was supposed to be a picnic. That’s what she said.
“Just a walk through the trees, boys. We’ll see butterflies and squirrels.”
Isaiah held on to his brother Elijah’s hand tightly as they skipped along the mossy path. Their mother smiled as she walked ahead, humming softly. She laid down the tattered blanket, pulled out two peanut butter sandwiches, and set them gently on napkins like it was a special day.
But then she stood up and walked away.
“Mommy,” Elijah called out. “Where are you going?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t turn around. She never came back.
That night, the forest turned black and cold. The boys sat huddled under a rotting log, arms wrapped around each other, eyes wide and brimming with tears.
Elijah whispered, “She’s coming back. Maybe she just went to find help.”
Isaiah didn’t answer, because he knew.
The sun rose. No mommy. No help. The sandwiches were gone. On the third day, Isaiah found a half-eaten apple on the ground. He wiped it on his shirt and split it with Elijah. By the sixth day, they weren’t crying anymore. They were too weak. They drank rainwater cupped in their palms. They ate berries Isaiah had seen birds pecking at. Sometimes they……Read Full Story Here……………………….
