So, I changed the story. I've totally started over. :] Here's chapter one.

Chapter 1

It was less than 50 degrees outside, the middle of February, and I had woken in a sweat. My German shepherd had been whining at the foot of the bed, and my screams must have started his barking.
“Be a man, Rook, I’m fine.” His tail was instantly wagging, and he plopped himself happily onto my bed, barricading me beneath the blankets.
What a dream… I had been walking through the forest that surrounds my home; the forest that was my home. I was so happy. Dancing and twirling around, laughing like some love struck child. I was definitely dreaming. I know that forest so well that it was depicted perfectly. Every tree, every rock was just as it should be. I had somehow fallen into the river, and I couldn’t find my way to the surface. In reality, I never went near the river for that reason. I can’t swim. The dream had felt so real. I felt myself being slammed against currents and into sharp rocks. I felt the burning in my chest and the slow ebbing away of my consciousness. Who had pulled me out? His face was so clear. He was dripping wet, just as I was, and his curly black hair was sticking to his face, curling and twisting around his strong jawbone and his neck. The shirt he wore was a damp light teal color, holding so close to his skin that it might have been painted on. The freckles on his face matched my own and might have given him a cute and friendly demeanor if it hadn’t been for the look in those eyes. His eyes, a frighteningly bright shade of green, seemed to pierce straight through me. He looked unspeakably angry. Angry with me for making him save me. Even though I could feel those eyes loathing the wet shivering body he held so easily in his arms, I couldn’t let him put me down. I clung to him. I was constantly trying to pull myself closer to him, this stranger who had saved me and hated me so intensely. He hadn’t moved or spoken. He just stood there, allowing me to make a sobbing fool of myself, and held me in his arms. 
Rook was scratching at the door now. I forced myself from my thoughts and climbed out of bed, grabbing my large winter coat and sliding my feet into my boots. I twisted my irritating long brown hair, now grown down to the small of my back, into a loose ponytail before shoving gloves onto my hands and bracing myself for the cold winter air.




Chapter 2


The brightness of the fresh snow reflecting the morning sun hit me right in the face. I covered my eyes as Rook took off, running playfully through the snow, pouncing on his imaginary chipmunks and rabbits. I trudged through the snow that well covered my ankles and made my way over to the well on the side of the cottage and used the shovel to break the layer of ice that had formed from the freezing night. The sound nearly startled me. It was always so quiet here in my forest. In the six years I had spent here on my own, it had always been quiet. Rook has been my only companion since the day I was… left. They didn’t want me, my parents. They put me here in this cottage, leaving me nothing but a puppy and a trunk full of clothes of various sizes that I assumed were meant to provide for me as I grew. I can’t remember their faces, their voices... anything about who they were. I often wonder if they ever existed.
I allowed myself to draw away from those thoughts as I filled a large bucket with water from the well and dragged it around to the back of the cottage where I made the larger fires. I poured the water into the bulky kettle that was hanging over the charred wood from the day before, and after placing new wood beneath my pot, focused on starting a fire.
Once the water was set and heating from the fire, I went back inside and got things ready for my bath. The bathtub was the only really elegant thing in the small, one room structure. It was glossy porcelain; the kind of tub with claws at the end of each leg. I remember faucets with running water as a child. I can faintly recall horse-drawn carriages and the new electric lights that everyone was so excited about, and only the wealthy could enjoy. Then the memories ended. They always came in chunks, and I could never recall actual events. I sighed and decided to let it go for the time being. I had spent the first year in this place trying so desperately to remember my life, and it had taunted me, skipping around the edges of my mind, avoiding my recall. I had been left, a twelve year old girl, with only images, sights, sounds. No memories. No emotions other than the aching sting of abandonment.
When the water had boiled, I took it into the house, filled the tub, and quickly stripped off my clothing and sank down into the perfectly hot water. I breathed deeply, filling my head with steam that carried away anger. I stretched out my legs, turning my ankles in circles to loosen the joints. I was surprisingly tanned for someone living out in the forest that was never warm, never comfortable like this water. And that wouldn’t last. It must be hereditary, this light brown skin of mine. It must have come with the thick, wavy hair, the angular features and the large hazel eyes. My nose was long, my face was long, my legs were long.
After I had scrubbed every part of myself, the water had started to lose its heat, so I decided it was time to get out. I quickly stood up and wrapped myself in the massive towel that I had left folded next to the tub. Rook had nudged his head through the door, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his snow-covered muzzle. I was sure the rest of him was equally decorated. A draft of wind blew a ribbon of snow through the slightly open doorway, and I was immediately freezing again.
“In or out, Rookie. I’d like to keep my body relatively thawed.” I watched as his nose disappeared and the wind pushed the door closed. The truth was that everything outside of that door and beyond my home frightened me. It’s like being afraid of the dark. You’re not afraid of darkness itself, but of what could be lurking unseen in that darkness.
When I awoke in this place six years ago, all I could feel was fear. I knew that I had been left, and that whoever had left me here wanted nothing more than to forget me. After three days of lying there, curled up in my bed, hoping that someone would return, I got up and ran. I ran through the forest, ignoring the branches that scratched my face and the panicked rustling of squirrels and birds. I ran until my feet would no longer carry me and my eyes could no longer see the ground. Night had fallen in around me, and I was blinded by darkness and tears. The ground seemed to crash into the side of my body as I fell, and I that was it. When I woke up, there was no light. There were no trees to see. Not even the dirt that I knew was now caked to the side of my face was visible. Now the world looked as empty as I felt. I let out an earsplitting scream when I felt something wet poking at my leg. I kicked at, and was crying again when I heard the dog yelp and whimper. “No. No, boy. Come here… Come on, please.” I listened for his footsteps and was relieved when, after what must have been at least ten minutes, I felt his cold wet nose press against my forehead. I sighed, “I’m sorry, puppy. Your fur is so dark… just like everything else. Have you ever seen a rook, little puppy? It’s a bird, I think. It’s all black, but not at all s-s-scary like this place. You’re my Rook.” I wrapped my arms tightly around his little neck and buried my face into his damp fur. He must have stayed here with me the entire time I had been unconscious. For that moment, I held firmly to the image of this little dog. It was the only image I could keep in my head; the only image that didn’t dissipate and dissolve when I turned to look at it. Everything else could only be seen through the corner of my observation. I could never remember experiences or summon up past events. I had no memories. I would never forget this one. I would not let it fade. Rook had started to nudge into my shoulder, trying to make me stand. The last thing I wanted to do was venture out into the darkness, but I couldn’t let my Rook leave without me. I rose slowly, brushing the autumn leaves and fragrant dirt from my body with one hand, and holding onto my Rook with the other. Once I had pried most of the dirt from my skin, Rook pulled me through the darkness, and all I could do was listen to the forest and follow. My feet were sore and my eyes were tired by the time we had stopped walking, but I was overwhelmingly relieved to feel grass rather than dirt and rock beneath my feet. I could feel Rook’s tail wagging against my leg as we quickened our pace with a new energy and finally reentered the cottage. I felt my way immediately to my bed, kicked off my shoes, and covered myself with the large, thick blanket, falling asleep almost instantly. 
Since that day, I have avoided the darkness to the best of my abilities. I could never imagine leaving this place, because the night will always come, and I could not be there, without the minimal comfort that my home offered, in the dark. I have done everything possible to evade my second greatest fear. The first, without a doubt, was being alone.
I shook the fears out of my head and wobbled over to the massive trunk where I rummaged through the pile in search of warm clothes. Today would be just like every other. I would take Rook out to the forest, on the North side this time, and we would catch a handful of rabbits or a fawn that would feed us for the next few days, salting the rest to be preserved. Winter never produced much game, but I had discovered vegetation growing beneath a pile of broken glass, a result of one of Rook’s more exciting ventures, that had been the back window a month or so ago. Since then, all of the windows, including the largest stretching half way across the front portion of the cottage, have been removed to build a small, closet-sized room that I use to grow berries, herbs, and a few vegetables and fruits. The places where the windows had once been could not be left open, so I had made a few renovations of my own to the cottage. Once a week in the later afternoon, Rook and I headed down to the South side of the forest. This area, being the furthest from the river, often had trees that were either dead, dying, or well on their way, which meant plenty of firewood for the hearth. I also used the wood to cover the windowless holes in the wall. It took weeks of practice to create usable planks, but the work paid off. I managed to produce shelves that fit into the slots I created in the walls, and I used these to hold the tools that I made along with the ones I had found buried in the dirt and snow throughout the years. Someone had lived here before me. I often wondered who. I wondered if they would ever return. I wondered if we would be friends. Loneliness crept over me once again as I dressed in my thickest trousers and winter tunic.







If I get enough positive feedback, I'll add some more.