Christopher Vogler The Writers Journey
chilling my blood, dragging my spirits further down.
I dread that word "lost" and tried to deny it to myself, but I had to admit it.
A whole host of unfamiliar sensations and thoughts came over me as I watched the
shadows of the black trees march down the canyons. M y heart pounded, my hands
shook. T h e forest seemed to be speaking to me, pleading with me, calling to me.
"Come," it said in a witch's voice of a million leaves rasping together. "Here is an
easy end to your pain. Join us! Jump! Take a run and launch yourself off this cliff
into this canyon. It will all be over in an instant. W e ' l l take care of everything." And
oddly enough, that plea sounded appealing and reasonable to some part of me, the
part that was terrified, the part that just wanted this awful moment to be over.
But another sliver of my brain stepped back, and recognized that I was expe
annaabi.ee 
