MidReal Story
Secrets of the Woods: Family's Survival Chronicles
Scenario: our story starts with a family who lives in the woods, parents with their six sons and 5 daughters...
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I am the oldest of my siblings, and we were all born in a remote forest cabin that has been in our family for generations.
Although our home is far from the nearest town, my family has made it work for us.
My father is a skilled hunter, and my mother tends to the garden and livestock.
Growing up, my younger brothers and I would often accompany my father on his hunting trips into the woods.
On these excursions, he would teach us how to track animals, make a successful kill, and bring the meat back safely to the cabin.
Although these trips could be difficult and dangerous at times, they helped us develop into capable hunters just like our father.
Now that we are older, we occasionally hunt on our own or in small groups, but we always return to the cabin when it’s time to rest or prepare the meat for storage.
The rest of our siblings were raised by our mother, who taught them how to garden, fish, and raise livestock.
With my help, they learned how to do laundry, cook meals, and clean the cabin.
Despite the fact that we live so far from civilization, we have managed to establish a comfortable life here in the woods.
I was born on a warm summer day as my mother lay in labor on the living room floor of the log cabin my great-grandfather built with his own two hands.
As the oldest of my six brothers and five sisters, I learned early on that it’s better to lead by example than boss them around, because they’re always watching.
Growing up in the woods has its challenges as well as its rewards.
Although we don’t have all the modern conveniences most people take for granted, it’s not like we’re savages or anything.
We have everything we need right here.
I don’t know that any of us has ever met anyone who lives in a big city or even a small town like you see on TV or read about in books.
My parents were born and raised here, as were their parents before them.
It’s always been this way, and I reckon it always will be.
We have a garden where my mother raises all kinds of vegetables, some I’ve never even heard of before.
There’s also fruit trees and berry bushes we pick from during harvest season.
We also have a few cows and a couple of pigs we raise for meat, as well as chickens for eggs.
I’m not sure how the cows got here, but I think my father’s father brought them up here as a wedding gift when he married my grandmother.
My father hunts in the surrounding forest and brings home deer and other animals he kills to provide for us throughout the winter.
We store all the extra meat in a small building that gets cold enough to keep it frozen during the cold months.
In addition to helping my father with his hunting trips and skinning and butchering the meat he brings back, I also help him build traps to catch smaller game like squirrels and rabbits.
As I said before, it’s important for me to set a good example for my younger siblings.
In addition to assisting my father in his hunting and trapping endeavors, I also do what I can to help out around the house.
I milk the cows and feed the livestock.
I help my mother in the garden and preserve the fruits of our labor.
The grass feels cool beneath my bare feet as we walk through the forest.
We don’t wear shoes because we rarely leave the cabin and it’s easier to feel the ground beneath your feet without them.
The birds are chirping in the trees and squirrels are playing in the branches above our heads.
The forest is alive with all kinds of sounds and smells of life.
We walk quietly so we don’t scare off any potential prey.
It’s my father’s idea to hunt today; he has decided it’s time to start stocking up on food for the winter.
We walk through the woods for what seems like hours before we finally spot deer grazing in a meadow near the river.
My father holds up his hand and motions for us to stop.
He explains he’s going to circle around so he can approach them from downwind.
In the meantime we should stay here and get ready to take aim if they come this way.
A few of my brothers are young and inexperienced hunters—like me—and they’re nervous about missing their target if they try to shoot too soon.
My father tells them it’s better to wait until they’re closer so they can be sure of hitting their mark.
We do as we’re told, and a few minutes later we hear a loud bang and watch as one of the deer falls over.
The others run off, but not before we take aim and shoot.
We gather our things and walk over to where they are lying in the grass.
I shudder as I look at them, knowing it was me who took their lives.
I also know that if we don’t kill them, something else will, and it will be a much slower and less humane death than what we have just done.
After we have skinned and gutted them, we load up our horses and bring them back to the cabin.
It’s getting late by the time we arrive, and I’m exhausted from carrying all that meat.
It’s been a long day, but it was worth it because now we have enough food for the winter, just like my father said we would.
My sisters are waiting for us when we get back.
They were also out gathering herbs and berries for our mother, who makes teas and other concoctions she sells to people who live in nearby towns.
She’s been doing this for as long as I can remember, but I don’t know if it’s legal or not.
I don’t ask questions; it’s not my place.
I’m just glad to see them because that means they can help us with all this meat.
My younger brothers are busy unloading the horses and putting them in their stalls.
They will also be feeding them and giving them water before they go to bed.
We wash up in the river and then take turns bathing while my mother gets everything else ready.
After we’re done, we sit on the bank and wait for everyone to finish.
As we sit there, I tell stories of great adventures and heroic deeds.
It’s something I like to do, and since I’m the oldest it’s my right.
My father is also a great storyteller and would often tell us about his own adventures when he was our age.
Some of us have heard them so many times we can repeat them word for word, but that doesn’t stop us from asking him to tell them again.
Life in the forest can be lonely at times, but it’s moments like these when we are all together that I cherish most.
We may not have much—according to some people—but what we do have is more than enough.
I finish telling my story and look at my siblings, who are all laughing and joking with each other.
I don’t see what’s so funny,” Michael says, pouting.
It was a great story, John.”
I thought the ending was stupid,” Emily says, sticking out her tongue.
“It was not stupid!
It was the best part!”
“Are you kidding me?
That was the worst ending I’ve ever heard.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my sister and you hate me.”
“That’s not true at all!
If you were a real writer you would have come up with something better than that!”
“I am a real writer!
And the ending is great, it leaves it open to the reader’s interpretation.”
“No it doesn’t, it leaves them confused and disappointed.”
“Does not!”
“Does too!”
I could go on like this forever,” Michael says, shaking his head.
“Why don’t you two just agree to disagree for once?”
“Because she’s wrong,” I say, laughing.
“I am not wrong!
You’re the one who’s wrong!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
they both say at the same time before bursting into laughter again.
We all laugh with them until we hear a loud ‘BOOM’ in the distance.
We all stop laughing and look at each other, wondering what it was.
I know this sound all too well, as does everyone else here.
It’s a signal cannon being fired off in the distance.
My father stands up and looks around, listening carefully for any other sounds.
When he doesn’t hear anything, he turns to us and nods his head in the direction of the cabin.
We all know what to do.
We quickly grab our things and head back the way we came.
My father, brothers, and I stay in the back to make sure everyone gets there safely.
My mother and sisters are already on their horses and heading back home by the time we catch up to them.
We quickly mount up as well and follow them back to the cabin.
When we arrive, my father takes his horse to the shed and starts putting everything away.
My brothers do the same while my mother and sisters start unloading our horses.
I look around the yard and notice the worried expressions on my mother’s face as she watches us.
It’s not often that she looks this way, but when she does I know something bad is happening.
I walk over to her and put my hand on her shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
I ask, but before she can answer my father steps in.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he says.
“We’ll be fine, now go inside with your mother and help her with dinner.”
I nod my head and do as I’m told, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong.
I look back at my father and watch as he walks over to one of my brothers and starts talking to him in a hushed tone.
I don’t know what they’re saying, but I can tell by the look on my brother’s face that it’s not good.
I don’t have time to think about it right now because my mother needs help with dinner, so I go inside and do what she asks me to do.
We’re just finishing up when my father, brothers, and sisters come inside and sit down at the table.
My mother puts a large pot in the middle and we all take turns grabbing a bowl and filling it with stew before we start eating.
We eat in silence until we hear a loud banging on the door.
We all stop what we’re doing and look over at the door, wondering who could be out there this late?
My father stands up and walks over to the door, opening it slowly, but there’s no one there.
He looks around for a minute before he notices a piece of paper sticking out from under the doormat.
He picks up the paper and reads it before handing it to my mother, who has a horrified look on her face when she reads it as well.
