Walkies

24x30 Colored Pencil/Acrylic

Little Red Riding Hood is all grown up and taking no shit from creepy wolves or hermit grannies.

Story

The therapy sessions started when Red turned eighteen and finally had the courage to unpack what had really happened in those woods twenty years ago. Dr. Martinez listened patiently as Red recounted the "official" story – the one the Brothers Grimm had sanitized and Disney had sugar-coated – but the real trauma went much deeper. A grown man had stalked a seven-year-old through the forest, broken into her grandmother's house, and terrorized both of them. The fact that everyone called him a "wolf" didn't make it less disturbing; it just made it easier for adults to dismiss as a fairy tale. But Red remembered the fear, the helplessness, and most of all, the way everyone afterwards acted like she should be grateful for being "rescued" by a random woodsman instead of addressing why a child was wandering alone through dangerous territory in the first place.

The transformation began with self-defense classes, then martial arts, then wilderness survival training. Red traded her iconic red cloak for tactical gear and combat boots, but kept the color as a declaration: she wasn't hiding anymore. She learned to track, to hunt, to read the intentions of predators long before they got close enough to strike. The basket of goodies was replaced with equipment that actually mattered – first aid supplies, emergency beacons, and yes, weapons for those who refused to take "no" for an answer. Her grandmother, it turned out, had been enabling the whole victim narrative, playing helpless when she was actually a retired special ops agent who could have handled one creepy stalker without breaking a sweat. Their relationship improved dramatically once they stopped pretending Granny needed protecting.

Now, at twenty-seven, Red worked as a wilderness guide and self-defense instructor, specializing in teaching young women how to navigate dangerous situations. Her weekend workshops, "No More Red Victims," had waiting lists months long. She still took walks through those same woods, but now she moved with the confidence of someone who had transformed from prey to predator. The local wildlife, including the descendants of her childhood tormentor, gave her a respectfully wide berth. When asked about her famous encounter, Red would smile grimly and say, "The wolf was never the real monster in that story. The real monsters were the adults who taught little girls that the woods were too dangerous for them, instead of teaching the wolves to stay away." Her red jacket wasn't a target anymore – it was a warning.