Free Suddenly in the Depths of the Forest by Amos Oz

the truth and take pride in lies. And they train us not to be happy about what we have, but only about what we have that others don't. And even worse, they teach us from the moment we're born to believe all sorts of poisonous ideas that always begin with the words "After all, everyone..."
    The man smiled sadly to himself and thought about that for a little while.
    But here, he went on, the only shameful thing is ridicule.
    And suddenly he added in a different, darker, hushed voice: And yet it sometimes happens, it happens to me almost every night, that I wake up and go down below to take revenge on them in the dark. To terrify them all to death. To glitter suddenly like a skeleton in their windowpanes after they've turned off the lights. Or scrape across the floors and shake the roof beams to give them nightmares. Or to wake them soaked in cold sweat, thinking they have whoopitis too. And once every few years, I draw children to me here. Like Nimi the Owl. Or you.

25
    Maya hesitated a moment before she asked her questions, cautiously: But why did you actually decide to run away? Why didn't you ever try to find yourself at least one friend or two? Or a girlfriend? How come you didn't think you should at least try to change something? Or change yourself? You were never curious enough to try to figure out what exactly it was about you that made others mock you? Why you? Too many questions? No? My mother gets cross with me all the time—why do you always ask so many questions, stop it, every one of your questions puts another crack in the walls of our house.
    The man didn't look at Maya or Matti, and he took his time in answering too, glancing bitterly at the tips of his fingers, at his large, dark nails. Then he answered all of Maya's questions with five words: It was hard for me.
    A moment later, he added, I used to ask questions all the time too. But the questions just made them mock me even more. Until there were so many cracks that I didn't have a house left.
    Matti said, Maya. Enough.
    But Maya answered him angrily, Why, Matti? Why is it enough? He's so full of self-pity that he's completely forgetting that he himself caused the disaster in our village. Even now, after so many years, when you ask him why he ran away, he avoids giving an answer.
    Matti said, But Nimi ran away too. And so did the animals themselves. But you know how it is when the abuse starts. And the mockery. Sometimes I think about running away from them too, from everyone, from home, my parents, the other children, the grownups, my sisters, everyone, and let them think I have whoopitis. To run away and live all by myself in a cave in the forest so no one can tell me do this and don't do that, and aren't you ashamed of yourself.
    Maya's answer to this was, But when you dream about running away, Matti, you don't think about taking with you everything that grows. Or the water. Or the light. And you don't dream about how to come back at night and take revenge on everyone.
    There was silence. Until Nehi said, But in fact, you both ran away too. And now the whole village is frantic because of you, and your parents are shattered and in despair.

26
    And so the two children sat in the home of Nehi the Mountain Demon all evening. And the evening went on and on as if it were under a spell, and for hours the soft evening light caressed them. After the evening light came the twilight, and after an immeasurable time, the dusk of sunset began, and that dusk went on and on and never ended, but flickered and painted the vast sky in a rainbow of gentle hues, as if up here even time itself had been erased. Wiped away. Forever.
    The inside of the house confirmed what the children had seen from the outside, that it was not a fortress, only a low, wide building made of thick logs, entirely surrounded by a garden. Matti and Maya strolled through the garden and went back into the house and ate and drank and talked. That was because, right after Nehi frightened them, he