Levels in the forest

Date: 4/15/2020

The dream started in a mostly-regular seeming situation, where I lived alone in this city-like area near the beach. I was doing pretty okay considering I’m not really that old yet and haven’t finished college, I lived in a shitty apartment complex but it had running (usually hot) water and heating and AC, and I had everything I needed to survive. Everything in their was dusty, dirty, rusted or covered in cobwebs that seemed to come from nowhere, but it was all functional so I was doing okay. I had a job where I didn’t work over the summer- in the dream I tutored kids for cheap prices, which meant that I tutored a lot of kids in the area- and over the summer when school was out I only rarely tutored kids. So during the summer I’d take walks, explore the city, and even the forest which laid around the outskirts of the city. My apartment complex was pretty close to the outskirts, which meant it was decently far from the beach. Luckily it was a small city that was kind of based around the beach, so I could walk to the beach and hang out there if I wanted, I didn’t have to catch a bus or something. Usually I never went to the actual beach, just to the city area near the beach. There was a boardwalk along the main part of the beach with a few little shops and stuff, and farther up the beach there was like this worn road and a bunch of sidewalks leading to a bunch of buildings. Mostly it was apartments and motels and hotels, but there were a few expensive-looking shops like jewelry shops lined up along there. Off to the side there was a small theme park with a Ferris wheel, slingshot, some slides, and other small things, kind of spread out along the big sidewalk area. If you went past the motels and hotels and deeper into the city, there’d be more buildings, like supermarkets and stuff. But I swear like 90% of the buildings were just apartments or hotels. Then, as you walked farther back into the city, the area got more and more ‘foresty’ in a way; more trees grew in the sidewalks in little designated areas, other trees grew behind buildings or underneath the thin stretch of sidewalk that went in between two buildings of apartments- grass grew everywhere it could manage, along with dandelions and other, stranger plants, like exotic ferns and flowers. There was one row of about six or seven apartments that were lined up super close to each other, and the balconies connected at the top to form a walkway on the second and third stories; and below it there was one single and very long sidewalk going in between the buildings, which connected to thin, rickety staircases against the sides of the dirty bricks on the outside of the back walls. There must’ve been at least eighty or ninety apartments total, they were so squished together, and each one was a single floor- a small combined kitchen/living area, a tiny bathroom with a shower and toilet (no sink), and a bedroom that was just slightly bigger than the bathroom. The doors were faded blues and grays, paint peeling, most of them with little rusted plaques next to the door that read the apartment number (some apartments had a bright spot on the brick instead, where the plaque had fallen off). I lived in the third floor apartment at the very back of the complex; if I drew it on a map I’d be at the bottom left corner. That meant that I was facing the outskirts of the city, and when I went out onto my balcony I looked out one way to see the rows of doors and sidewalk; and to my other side I saw the forest that grew along the edge of the city. I went to the forest a lot, and really enjoyed it there. In the dream I’d lived alone in the apartment for a while, I mean ever since I was a kid (I don’t know how I managed to scrape by living alone when I was young but somehow I did), and so the forest was a familiar and comfortable place. As you went deeper into the forest it changed, like there were almost ‘levels’ to the forest, like in a videogame. The first ‘level’ was the regular forest, if not light. It had regular trees, some tropical but mostly just oaks and pines and stuff, spread out nicely on soft, fluffy green grass that was overgrown with weeds and sometimes thorns, berry bushes and ferns and exotic flower patches if you knew how to find them- there’d even be plenty of fruit trees if you could manage to navigate through the trees that well to find a patch. There’d be a few rocks or pebbles but not much, and no obvious water sources were nearby (except the ocean kind of nearby, duh). As for animals, you’d find the usual things that you’d find in any city ‘forest’. Rabbits, birds, squirrels, a few deer here and there, usually there were wolves or maybe wildcats but they were never really seen. The second level was slightly different but at the same time, there was an obvious change. You’d take a single step and the forest would suddenly change, and all of it ahead of you would be different. It wasn’t even gradual- you could sometimes look down at your feet and see the distinct line where one ‘level’ ended and another began, because even the grass was different between levels. The second level had thicker, darker grass, and more itchy too, not as soft. The trees were closer together and seemed much older- much bigger anyways. They were mostly pine, no tropical trees anymore, and not really any fruit trees. The little cute bushes from the first ‘level’ were replaced by huge, thorn-filled bushes, blocking your path if you were unfamiliar with the forest and forming monstrous structures around trees and in clearings. The undergrowth was more common here too, and there were more of the exotic ferns, as well as lots of vines, creepers, thorns, and other dark plants. Sometimes you’d find a mushroom too, which didn’t happen in the first ‘level’ at all. The rocks were bigger but just as uncommon here. The animals were changed too, with squirrels still abundant but no more rabbits or deer for the most part. And the birds suddenly seemed more sinister in this second ‘level,’ with more melancholy cries- you heard a lot more owls, and a lot less of those pretty melodic birds. I’m fact, most of the birdcalls I heard here were the ‘ugly’ kind- screeches, screams and croaks from angry-sounding birds filled the air. Crows seemed more common. Shadows shifted everywhere you looked, and above your head the leaves were thick enough to almost blot out the sun. Little creatures dashed about but you never fully spotted them, just a flash, enough to make anyone new to the forest unsettled. Wolves and wild cats were more common and you were more likely to see them here. Luckily I seemed to have some sort of way with the forest- I’d even go as far as to just call it a ‘respect’- and as long as I showed I meant no harm and acted peacefully the wolves and wild cats never bothered me. I seemed to have some strange connection with the other things in the forest, too. I knew my way around and could find my way past any thorns or bushes or even trees that blocked my path. If I was hungry I somehow knew where to forage to find food, and where the berries would grow. If I wanted to go somewhere in the forest it was easy. I just wandered and came across it, pretty much. I remember in the dream it wasn’t really a connection as much as it was just a respect for the forest. The third level had a sort of rocky theme. There were fewer trees, although the ones remaining were either pine or strange trees with speckled trunks and silver leaves. There were also a lot of nuts here; nut trees grew pretty abundantly. There were a lot of rocks, boulders and pebbles, and the ground was, at times, almost completely gravel or sand, sometimes even stone. The grass seemed thinner and more feeble, almost like it was dying off in this part of the forest. Foliage was less common but also stranger. There were a ton more mushrooms, mostly beige or brown ones, but sometimes I spotted a red mushroom with white spots. There were strange vines growing along some of the rocks and odd little flowers sprouting singularly from a crack between two boulders. Gemstones could be spotted peeking out from between little ‘caves’ (crevices in two boulders which formed a sort of indent) and different types of stones and minerals were scattered all throughout this area. Again, the animals were different too. I heard less birds by far, with the occasional hoot of an owl being the only call I could hear. There were a lot of snakes and other reptiles here, like lizards, although again as long as I respected them they respected me. And there were a lot of unique beetles as well. There weren’t many other animals besides these, though. The sunlight seemed dimmer here, almost grayer, as if it was always the beginning of a stormy day there. The fourth level was kind of winter themed in a way. The grass grew plentifully enough, but it was all blue, like it had completely frosted over or something. The ground was also covered in a thin layer of snow at all times. There were more rocks than in the first and second levels but not as many as in the third, and the rocks that were here were also frozen and covered in snow; icicles hung from boulders’ edges almost dangerously, but somehow I knew they wouldn’t fall on me. There was less life here too, but I could still spot it if I was careful. White rabbits and foxes lived in little caves or holes in the snow, and the occasional squirrel could be seen struggling to find nuts to survive. Birdsong was mostly silent except for your usually winter birds, primarily sparrows, and so the air was filled with soft calls of birds and the whistle of air through the bare trees. Which, speaking of the trees; in this area all of the trees were bare, except for the pines and other evergreens. The bare trees had a thin layer of shimmering snow on their branches, with a healthy amount of icicles hanging from some limbs. It was really quite beautiful. Things like snow-covered yams, holly, and different types of roots could be foraged from underneath of the snow and in the trees if you knew where to look. I came to this winter area a lot, mostly for the scenery and the beauty of it, but also because of how many tubers, roots and nuts I could find. Other parts of the forest contained things like fruits and berries, but there were also tons of birds and squirrels and rabbits and deer that would take all of the food items before me. And of course, since I respected the forest I never took more than I needed, or stole from the animals. So the winter area, with its lack of hungry animals and surplus of different edibles, allowed for me to forage for things to eat while still being respectful to the forest. Plus, it was quiet here. Not many people ventured past the second level, so I was all alone except for the sparrows and the snow rabbits. There were no bugs, which was good because I never had to worry about stepping on one on accident. I loved wandering around in the winter area during the summer (which, I have no idea how the snow didn’t melt but literally, stepping from the fourth level into the fifth one, there was an actual line. You went from gravel with a bit of grass to blue grass with half an inch to an inch of snow at the base of it, in almost a straight line. Like if I wanted to I could straddle the line and literally one foot would be in snow and the other on rock). But I’d come to this place in the dream often, either stepping quietly through the snow (barely making any prints, mostly to be respectful) and sometimes looking at different animal tracks or watching the white rabbits search for food. I’d sometimes find a snow-covered boulder and climb, very carefully as to not disturb any sleepy creatures, to the very top, and sit down on the small layer of snow and just watch my surroundings. I’d look up and spot sparrows in the trees and follow them as they went about their day. I’d find foxes and see where they went until they left my field of view. I’d stare at a tree and watch as the snow and icicles sparkled under the sun. Sometimes I’d think, sometimes I’d just relax. But then other times I’d come to this part of the forest and wander around, pulling up roots and tubers to eat, digging tiny spots in the snow somehow knowing exactly where everything would be buried. I’d even give some nuts or berries to the birds and rabbits if they approached me, and oftentimes the creatures of this entire forest would come up to me, or at least be comfortable around me, just because I came there so much. They had realized I wasn’t a threat. And I gave them food so some of them probably even liked me. Anyways, in the dream I usually went to this winter area, but I knew of other levels, deeper in the forest. After the winter level there was a sort of opposite level- a fiery sort of place, in a way. The grass switched to a deep, almost blood red, mixed in with the yellow dying grass. There was a decent amount of stone and gravel here, almost like the rocky level, but the difference here was that plants still grew in the gravel and rocks. Tons of red and orange and pink and yellow flowers grew everywhere, some of them very strange or exotic. The trees were vibrant chestnut colors, with rubbery trunks and leaves that were the warm colors of fall. The air, in contrast to the appearance of fall, was extremely hot, humid, and generally felt like it was a sort of natural sauna. Hardly any wind blew. It never rained, as far as I had seen- even when it was raining in the other levels or even over the entire city, it would never rain on this level. Leaves collected on the ground but not nearly as many as they should. There were only a few dead leaves scattered on the rock, instead of the hundreds that should’ve been squashed down like what normally happens in late fall. Although I guess that, if the past level had trees in a state of constant winter, this level could have trees in a constant state of early to mid fall, and it would make sense. As for animals, there were a surprising amount. Red squirrels, brown rabbits, and quite a few wild cats thrived here, and even some bears and red-black-and-yellow snakes could be spotted. Birds here were very large and kind of rare. There were a few wild turkeys and chickens, and there were hawks and eagles as well as other stranger birds, like potoo(?)s. They filled this forest with very strange sounds. There were a few bushes, mostly just a sad bundle of sticks with two or three red or orange leaves, but there was quite a lot of flower fields in contrast, although every flower was warm colored. Roots and tubers could be foraged here too, but they were rarer. At night there were a HUGE amount of fireflies and dragonflies in this area, as well as other bugs, although crickets were strangely absent. I avoided this area mostly because its heat was so unbearable, but also because there wasn’t much to do there in terms of food and relaxation. The level after that was what I can only describe as a bug level. The grass here was regular grass, if not a bit grayish. There were a regular amount of ferns and a good mixture of rocks in there as well, and these rocks had a lot of moss on them. The trees, too, had moss crawling along the sides of their trunks. Most of the trees were huge and very old, with dark brown / grayish colored bark that seemed to be constantly peeling off. The leaves formed a nice canopy that gave shade but didn’t block out the sun completely. The area felt very moist despite there not being any bodies of water too nearby. It wasn’t exactly humid, it’s just that every rock and tree trunk and patch off moss that I touched left me feeling like I had touched something wet, although my hand came away seemingly dry. It was slightly warmer than usually but in contrast to the fire level, it was a relief. There were a normal amount of birds, less squirrels and hardly any other animals. And then there were the bugs. Pretty much every bug you can imagine lived here. There were beetles on every tree, rock and field. Flies buzzed constantly, filling the air with their overwhelming sound. Knats and mosquitoes were so common I was constantly swiping at my forehead and arms to clear them off of me as kindly as possible. Luckily they stayed away for the most part. Then there were spiders- hundreds of them, maybe thousands. Small spiders. Big spiders. Deadly spiders and spiders that wouldn’t hurt a fly (well, maybe a fly, but they wouldn’t hurt any people). Fuzzy spiders and spiders that disguised themselves as other bugs. There were daddy long legs and spiders that jumped, spiders that lived in little holes in the ground and spiders that spun the biggest, most beautiful webs you’d ever seen. There were fireflies and horseflies and dragonflies, and ants built hills every few feet so that I could barely walk in fear of squashing one of their homes. I spotted huge, hulking bugs in the depths of the forest, almost watching me- bugs the size of dogs and cats, and maybe even bigger. Although I respected the forest and knew that it respected me, this part of the forest was still unsettling enough that I didn’t go there too often. I saw beetles the size of cows crawl up the trees or along the path in front of me every so often, and despite the fact that I wasn’t usually scared of bugs, their sheer size made my heart pound in my chest until they had passed by me to go on about their business. And once, my first time venturing into this level, I had spotted an area where the trees were bound together by the biggest spider nest I had ever seen- and inside of it shadows shifted, and for a second I could’ve sworn I saw a spider bigger than an elephant, climbing slowly along its web, watching me with its many eyes... Although this level unsettled me, I still went there sometimes, just because the forest seemed to lure me inwards. It was like I was drawn to the middle by an invisible force. But I never went much farther than the bug level. There was another level after the bug level that I had seen, but never entered, which was stranger than all the rest combined. The grass was white and looked oddly plastic, and the trees had ribbed trunks of the same material, which led up to the caps of giant mushrooms. Literally every single tree was a giant, white under-bellied mushroom. Their tops were mostly shades of blue, sometimes spotted. In the white grass I saw tons of similar (but much more regularly sized) mushrooms growing, in all shapes and forms. There didn’t seem to be much animal life there, and I didn’t know what it sounded like because like I said, the levels didn’t change gradually. You stepped into another level and suddenly, everything changed- including sounds. The weirdest thing about this mushroom level was the fact that most of the things there seemed to glow a soft bluish color. The main part of the dream started off with me wandering around in the winter level, pulling up a few roots and yams and snacking on them. I placed a few of them in my bag- a small satchel I kept on me at almost all times- but otherwise didn’t take too much. And then, suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. It was definitely a person, and someone new at that. Their steps were heavy and undisguised, crunching the snow loudly, almost clumsily. They had clearly never been aquatinted with the forest- or, with this part of it, at least. I didn’t bother hiding since the footsteps seemed to be coming from behind me, so the person probably had seen me. And I knew that nobody would dare hurt me out here. Even if they tried to, I’d be able to escape, and the forest would be my protection: I was sure of it, somehow. Then I heard a voice. I continued pulling the yam from the snow as I listened. “What is someone like you doing so deep in the forest?” It was a boy’s voice, almost a man’s, and he sounded like he was a little bit older than me. I pulled the yam from the snow, pushed more snow onto the hole I’d made and whispered, to the forest, “Thank you.” Then I rose and turned to face the stranger. As I got up I realized that it had started to snow ever so gently. Flakes caught in my eyelashes when I blinked, and I felt them settle on my hair and face. The boy who had spoken was, as I had guessed, about a few years older than me. He was tall, lanky, and confident looking, although I suspected some awkwardness. His face was generally handsome and gave me a definite prince vibe; long straight nose, defined green eyes with decently long brown lashes, an angular chin and jawline, a pretty thin face overall, with messy yet somehow perfect brown hair; and with his outfit- which was a pair of black dress pants with golden embroidery and a double buttoned red jacket with the same golden embroidery and buttons, and a collar that stuck up almost to the back of his neck but bent inwards towards the front, and finally shiny black dress shoes and gloves- he seemed like he was straight from a fairytale. I smiled at the boy and said, “what do you mean, someone like me?” He glanced away uncomfortably and without even blushing, said, “well, I meant that you seemed rather unprepared for this weather. You don’t even have a jacket, after all.” I laugh softly and say, “hm, are you sure that’s what you meant?” Before he can respond I add, “I’m fine how I am. The forest won’t do me any harm, weather or not.” He raised an eyebrow at me and I stand there, waiting for him to speak. So he says finally, “how do you know it won’t hurt you? That doesn’t make any sense.” I turn away and walk over to a tree, and start digging at the base. Like always, I find a nice staunchy tuber hidden beneath the snow. “I know, because I respect it. If you respect the forest, then the forest will not harm you. You give it respect and it gives you respect. And if you help it, then it will help you in return. The forests has few people that it favors, but the few who are favored are given protection and safety for it.” As I speak I carefully extract the tuber from the dirt and pile the snow back into place. I stand up and find the boy, who had followed me, watching with an air of curiosity. “How do you know that?” the boy asks. “Because I do.” He glances away again and says, “but you can’t just KNOW. Don’t you have any proof or something?” I shrug. “I have respected and helped the forest my whole life, and I have not once been harmed by the forest while doing so. I always find paths unblocked by shrubbery and thorns, even when simply wandering. I never get lost, and the trees and sky and animals always help me get where I want to go. I’ve ventured much deeper than this place and have suffered not a scratch from the forest itself. And when I am hungry, the forest provides. The animals never hurt me, even predators, and the rains never leave me sick. The cold never freezes me and the heat never causes me to pass out. After so long here, I’ve come to know it. Does that count as evidence?” I speak thoughtfully and by the time I finish, it’s stopped snowing. The boy stares at me for a second. Then he says, “I suppose it is.” The rest of the day, I dig up a few more roots, and then wander about, and finally find my way to a big boulder where I sit and watch the sunset. The boy comes along with me, and I talk with him, although there are times when we are in silence for quite a while. I enjoy it, though. I come to the forest for silence, and don’t feel the need to talk to this boy. And luckily he seems to feel similarly. I tell him a few secrets of the forest, things I’d learned over the years, like where to find food and how to tell different animal tracks apart. When we get to the rock he asks me a little bit about how deep the forest really goes, and I tell him about each level and about how they get stranger and stranger as you go deeper. “And in the middle, I feel there is something great. Terrible, maybe, but great either way. It seems to draw me inwards sometimes. But I have never seen it, not yet,” I say. “I’ve heard tales about the center of this forest,” the boy says. “I’ve heard tales about these ‘levels’ too. That bug area you were talking about- my grandma told me a story about something really similar. ‘A forest with trees turned black and silver by wings and shells. A forest hiding in its depths creatures grown to sizes bigger than it seems natural, with beetles like cars and spiders like houses.’ Or something like that.” I chuckle softly. “Yeah, that’s almost accurate.” He looks out over the snow and I do the same, but I listen to him still. “There were also stories about the very center of the forest. They say that, in the direct middle, there’s a sort of oasis. Literally. There’s a great pond stretching for miles in the center of the forest, filled with strange water that can heal anything, which has strangely lifegiving powers. And in the middle of that water, there’s a small island with a village.” “A village?” I ask quietly. Snowflakes land on my nose. I feel the boy nod next to me. “Yeah. And they say that, in that village, strange humanoid creatures exist. Creatures that look like humans at first glance but are something else entirely. People with tentacles that grow from their backs, deadly strong and numerous, allowing them to move however they please- sticking to ceilings and stuff- and gills are hidden in their necks, so they can live in the pond around them. And there’s people with teeth like a shark’s too, jaws powerful enough to snap metal, and superhuman strength that’s unheard of. And tons of other creatures that can live in the pond, with gills and hidden secrets.” I stay silent for a while, pondering this. Then I say, “perhaps that is true.” The boy seems almost irritated. “They say that the creatures living there would kill anyone who comes into their island, except for those who are chosen. Do you think you’re chosen?” Again, I ponder this. Then I say, “I do not know. But I don’t have any reason to go into the depths of the forest and anger those creatures, if what you say is true, so either way I’d prefer not to find out. I don’t want to bother the forest. I will give it respect. And it seems disrespectful to go places where I’m not meant to go, or to test my limits to see if I’m ‘chosen’ or something.” I turn to look at the boy, who’s still staring out over the snow. He nods. “Yeah,” he says, breath erupting in little white puffs. “You’re right.” We sit in silence for a few more minutes until it’s dark. Then I lead the boy back through the woods. He’s better than most, but he still jumps whenever a wolf howls, and sometimes he’ll say something like, “did you see that?” Or, “I thought I just saw something watching us.” I reassure him that we’re safe and calmly lead him back. Once we arrive at the apartments he says, “do you want me to walk you back home?” I say, “we’re already here, but thank you.” I gesture to my shabby apartment. Then I say, “would you like me to walk you back home?” because somehow I feel rude not offering. A lopsided grin crosses his face and he says, “I think I’m good. I’ll see ya around.” And at that moment I decide that I’m going to be his friend. In the dream I didn’t really had friends- people liked me, sure, but there weren’t many kids my age around, and I didn’t seem to go to school, so really the only people I knew or liked were adults, and they never treated me like a friend. But this kid had a personality I liked, and I liked the prince vibe he gave off. Plus, he seemed like the type of guy I could vent to about girls, and that was definitely something I needed. Because although I didn’t get crushes often (like I said not many people there were my age), when I did I was hopeless. A few weeks went by and the boy came with me to the woods, and he learned to respect it. Although he seemed kind of different in the way that he had to be told HOW to respect it. In contrast, I kind of just knew. It was like common knowledge. I learned how to respect the forest and came up with ways to keep that respect while still getting food or exploring. But somehow this boy didn’t seem to realize how it worked. But he didn’t have bad intentions or anything. In fact, he’d go out of his way to be as respectful as possible, doing every thing I advised him to. After a while we became friends, and we talked about deep things in the woods, and at the same time we had light conversations too. He was a real friend. And then one day, he said, “I’ve been telling my parents about you.” “Oh,” I said. “What do they think?” He rubbed his neck. “At first they didn’t like you much, because you’re from the outskirts. And because you’re poor and stuff.” “Oh,” I say. I’m not too upset. In fact, I rather liked this boy’s bluntness. He had a sort of inability to lie, almost, which meant I could always rely on him to tell the truth. I liked that. It made him seem like more of a ‘real’ friend in a way. Then he said, after a short silence, “Don’t worry, I told them more about you though. They like you now. They think you’re a good person, and stuff.” I smile. “I’m glad your parents don’t hate me.” There was another silence. “They said that you seemed like you’d make a good wife,” he said. My heart sank. I half hoped that he was still talking like we normally did, but somehow I felt like this wasn’t going to go well. “Oh,” I said after a pause. “Well I hope I will make a good wife.” The boy hesitates before saying, “they want to arrange a marriage.” “A marriage?” I ask, heart sinking lower. “For us.” My fears are confirmed as he speaks. Somehow I can tell he’s not too happy about it, at least not as happy as he should be. As if reading my thoughts he says, “I guess we should both be happy. We’re really good friends. Isn’t this just another step?” Somehow it seems like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince me. I say, slowly, “I suppose, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessary.” I like this boy, but I don’t want to date, and especially not MARRY, him. And he seems to feel the same way, although I think he’s trying to convince himself otherwise, probably for his parents sake. “They didn’t give you a choice?” I ask after a little bit. It’s more of a statement than a question. After all, I know him pretty well by now. “No, they didn’t.” “I’m sorry,” I say, for both him and for myself. He shrugs. Next in the dream, his parents organize our marriage. It’s like we have no choice- they decide for us. We have the wedding and it’s small and entirely his family and friends- I don’t have anyone else besides a few of the parents of the kids I tutored, and they couldn’t come. We kiss and it’s super uncomfortable, but thankfully he kind of shifts so that we’re really just kissing each other’s inner cheek. Then, his parents even set us up with a little cabin at the beginning of the first level, right in the woods near my apartment, and I thank them because I know it must’ve been mostly a gift for me. And I’m happy about it, but living with this boy feels strange. We never really do anything romantic after we’re married, although we remain good friends. Living together isn’t so bad, and we even have separate beds. Then, one day, the boy decides to work on making our house bigger. He promises not to take anything from the forest, to either buy all the materials or use things that have already been taken. And then he goes to work and suddenly I’m wandering through the forest alone again. I’m not really alone, I know he’s just back at our house, so I’m fine with it. But then, while I’m alone, I decide to go to the bug level. I quickly come across a herd of giant beetles. But this time, instead of passing by me, they stop, and turn to face me. I’m a bit unsettled but again I know the forest won’t hurt me, somehow. They just stop and wait expectantly so I say, “what’s wrong? What do you need?” One of the beetles, one with a shiny black and blue back, crawls towards me until it’s almost right against my chest. We’re pretty much at eye-level. It clicks, making sounds with its mouth. And then somehow I realize what it wants. It wants me to help them fix their home. I say, “take me to where it used to be,” and the bugs scurry off into the forest. I follow them, making sure not to step on any anthills or bugs. The area gets more and more rocky (but its still the same level) and soon we arrive at the remains of a massive cave formed by a big boulder. There’s moss everywhere. The beetles stop and watch me as I cautiously approach the crumbling remains. When I pick up the rocks I realize that they weren’t originally just a boulder- they were a stack of several other rocks and boulders. Somehow, the massive rocks had been shifted and then had fallen down. I look back at the beetles, then at the rocks, then at the beetles again. I think. Then I say to them, “this may take me a few days, and I will need to leave to make sure nobody hurts the forest if they come looking for me.” Then a beetle comes up to me, this time a greenish one, and clicks. And I understand it to mean that it’ll take care of that last part for me. I nod and say, “okay, thank you. I’ll try my best.” From there I find a large fallen branch and bring it over to the broken cave. Then, one by one, I roll the rocks back into place. As I work I have the strange feeling of someone watching me. I start with the bigger ones, building and piling them to make the base of the cave; I use the branch to lift them and roll them, slowly, using leveraged. Several times I slightly stab myself with the end of the branch while leaning on it to lift the rocks. One time, I break the branch, and the impact sends me flying and I land, hard, on the rocks. The impact could’ve broken my ribs, but when I stand I realize the only thing it did was bruise me a bit. And I’m barely even bleeding from where the branch had stabbed me. When I realize this I look to the forest and whisper, “thank you for your protection.” Afterwards I could’ve sworn I saw someone/something moving in the forest, maybe a shadow, but when I continued to look I saw nothing. I end up using several branches, which takes some time because I would never break a branch from a tree; instead I have to search to find a newly broken one, which had fallen naturally. At the same time I don’t want to take one that’s rotten or falling apart. I have some extra luck finding them though, which I thank the forest for. Once I have the base down, the rest is easier. I use a few branches to act as little bridges and ramps, rolling smaller rocks up onto the bigger base ones. After stacking these as high as I can make them go, I study the final rock. It’s a slab of stone that’s as long as the entire rest of the cave. It’s literally a roof- I just need to find a way to lay it on top of the other rocks. I pace for a while, thinking, because I’m not exactly the strongest person in the world and those rocks are pretty high up- they’re just about twice my height. And then I have an idea. I go into the woods and collect a bunch more branches. Then, using some ‘extra’ rocks which had been laying around, I build a giant ramp. I mean, it’s really wide, and leads from the ground to the top of the stack of rocks. Then, using some smaller but really sturdy branches, I heave each corner of the roof upwards, straining, and prop it up on each corner until it’s about a foot off the ground. (After finishing that I collapse on the ground and let myself rest for a few minutes, because it literally killed my arms). Then I push slightly taller branches under each corner, and so on and so on until it’s quite high up. From there I prop up branches slightly forwards underneath of it, and some branches in front of the roof. Then, I push very slightly, moving it from one set of ‘stilts’ to the next. I do this over and over again, until it’s almost to where it needs to be. Then, using the ramp to push, I give it bigger and bigger ‘stilts’ and move it at the same time. Finally when it’s close enough I give it a big shove from the end of the ramp, using all my might, and then step back to admire my work. After that it’s easy. I take down the ramp (but leave the rocks I used to make it there for extra support and shelter) and return the branches to the thicker forest. Then I go into the woods to where I first found the beetles, which is where I somehow know they’ll be. I realize as I’m going there that I’m starving- I hadn’t eaten in a few days- and I grab some nuts and roots and berries as I walk. The berries especially are good, since they work to hydrate me as well. When I arrive at the place where I met the beetles, I hear some clicking. Then I see them coming towards me. I say, somewhat tiredly, “I think I’ve finished your home, although I’d like to come with you to see it in case you don’t like it.” As we walk there my limbs grow heavy and I realize that I also haven’t slept in days. The beetles arrive at their home and I can tell they’re satisfied. I tell them, “I’m glad you’re happy with it. If anything happens you know where you can always find me, okay?” They click happily and I make my way back to my house. The boy has finished the new expansion and seems worried when he finds me. “You haven’t eaten or slept in days?” he asks immediately. Then he gets me some good food and lots of water, and makes me sleep. I sleep for the rest of that day and that night. I wake up the next morning feeling awesome, if not sore from all of that heavy lifting. I get up and help the boy make breakfast, and explain what I did without him having to ask. He nods and then says, “I think, I’d you were to rest it- not that you should- but I think you’d be chosen.” I wait a few seconds and he explains. “The forest doesn’t ask those things of anyone else. I mean, not of me anyways. Or of anyone else I’ve heard of. It trusts you, I think, or respects you.” I shrug and say, “it was the least I could do. The forest has given me food and shelter for years. I help it whenever I can.” That day I go back into the forest and the boy and I seem to have come to a silent agreement that, whenever the forest wanted something or was acting strange, I would be the one to investigate, and I’d do it alone. The animals never approached me when he was there, and I’m sure the beetles wouldn’t have asked me for help if he had been with me. Again, it’s not that he was bad or anything. I think it’s because I had grown up in the forest. It had taught me to respect it in ways the boy couldn’t understand. And that wasn’t bad. It just made us different. I went into the bug area again and went to the beetle’s new home. I saw that they were using it and seemed happy with it, and I smiled. Then I felt that same feeling again, of someone watching me. I turn and see a flash of something near the tree on my left. So I say, as softly as I can, “do you want me to leave?” There’s a pause and I stare expectantly at the tree. Then a voice comes from behind it. “I don’t know yet.” It’s a girl’s voice, but it’s pretty deep, which makes me think whoever it is is older than me. “Well I’d like to at least know who you are, if you’re planning on continuing to watch me.” There’s a pause, and then a girl steps out from behind the tree. She has dark skin, smooth and unblemished except for some scars around her neck. Her eyes are startlingly gray, slightly green tinted, and very contrasting. She has curly hair that’s braided tightly in one thick braid that falls to her feet and brushes the ground. A few curls come loose and rest on her forehead and curl along her cheeks. She’s wearing normal, but kind of dirty clothes, a simple white T-shirt that’s been ripped and smeared with mud a little, and jeans that are ripped all over and stained at the bottoms. Over top of the T-shirt she’s wearing a black leather jacket that looks good on her. She looks like she’s about my age... except for her eyes. They seem wise beyond her years. It’s very strange. She frowns and says, “you know, it’s rude to expect everyone to just give you their name. What have you given me in return?” I blink. “Ella.” “What?” “My name. I’ve given you mine, now. So may I please have yours, if you don’t mind?” The girl grins suddenly and says, “Laura. And don’t get used to me giving you things. I don’t trust you.” Her frown returns and I get the feeling she doesn’t like me. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me,” I said, “I’ll try my best to change that. And I promise I won’t expect anything from you.” Then I turn and look back at the home I’d made for the beetles. “You watched me make this,” I say. It’s not a question. “So?” challenges the girl. I shrug. “I found it strange that someone would be that interested in what I was doing. After all, moving around some rocks doesn’t seem interesting enough to stay up for several nights in order to watch.” I turn to face the girl again and she’s still frowning at me. I smile at her. “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound rude. I just find things strange.” “Nothings really strange, if you’ve seen enough,” the girl says. “Well I think that everything can be strange, if you look at it enough,” I say. “I’m fact, I often avoid my reflection because of how long I’ll spend thinking about how strange it is that the thing in the mirror is both me and not me.” The girl locks eyes with me and I look at her and suddenly we’re having a stare off. But I don’t want to challenge her or to rival against her or anything, even just by looking, so I laugh and close my eyes while doing so, then look away to watch the beetles again. After a little bit the girl says, “Ella, why do you come to the forest so much?” “Do I come here a lot?” I ask. “You’ve come here nearly every day of your life.” “Is that really so often?” The girl scoffs and I turn to look at her innocently. “These beetles have been here their entire lives,” I say. “But you don’t ask them why they’re here.” “That’s different,” the girl says. “They were born here. They respect the forest and know it’s ways and it’s secrets. It’s in their blood. But you aren’t meant to be here. You were born knowing how to ruin everything this place represents. Your parents teach you the secrets of pollution instead of the secrets of the forest. You know how to kill things in your path instead of how to avoid doing so. Why are you here?” The way she talks, I sense something off about her. Something that suggests that maybe, she’s not so human... I look at her scars out of the corner of my eye as I talk. “I never knew my parents,” I say, “do I never learned anything from them. And I grew up in this forest. It provided to me the same way a mother should have. I’ve learned to respect it too, and I’ve learned it’s secrets- although admittedly, probably not as well as the beetles. But I live under the forest and in the same way I live for it. It has provided to me when I was in need, so I’ve decided to do the same. How is that so odd to you? If you truly want me to leave, I can. I offered to earlier. I still will, if you like.” The girl sighs and shakes her head. “No. I’m not the one to decide, truly. I just find it strange.” “A lot of things are strange if you look at them enough.” We lock eyes again and I smile. She rolls her eyes. I pause for a moment and then say, “I actually have a question, if you don’t mind.” The girl stares. “Fire away. But be careful.” I take her warning seriously and phrase my sentence as cautiously as possible. “You talk as if you’re so much different from me,” I say slowly. “But you seem the same. After all, if you grew up only in the forest, I don’t know how you’d get those clothes. So I was just wondering, are you really that much different.” At this the girl grins. “Trust me, I am.” “Where do you live?” I ask suddenly. The girl’s smile vanishes. “Why?” I shrug and blush a little bit. “It’s nothing... I just had a hunch that we grew up nearby, and perhaps that’s why you are so different. If you lived near me then I’d see how you could have grown up in the forest, more so than I have, while still technically living in the city.” The girl ponders what I say for a moment. Then she nods and says, “well, yes, I do live nearby, I guess. Show me where you live.” It’s a pretty direct request, but she says it more like a command. Luckily I don’t really care at this point, and by the positioning of those scars I’m starting to think that she wasn’t lying when she said we were different. I live with, and for the forest, as I’d said, so I lead her back through the forest. When I get to the winter area I see footsteps and realize that the boy had gone home. I take her back to my apartment, which I still own but rarely go to. “I don’t live here any longer,” I say, “but this is where I lived my entire life up until this year.” She stares at the peeling door. “I guess it is close by.” I open the door and she follows me inside. The lights flicker for a moment and then decide to turn on, which I’m thankful for because it makes the place seem less sad. She peers around. “This seems... odd.” I laugh. “It is.” Then I see her sniff the air, and do the same- and I remember something suddenly, rushing into my old bedroom. “Oh!” I say. “I almost forgot about these, thank you for having me bring you here.” In my bedroom piles of cookies lay untouched- there has to be about a hundred little boxes of them, sealed tightly- and I check the dates on one of them. They’re slightly stale but still good. “What are these even here for?” the girl asks, coming in behind me. “My friend- er, husband- ordered a bunch of these on accident for our wedding. There were so many extras that I had them sent back to the apartment so I could do something with them later.” I take a box and think for a moment, and a solution comes to me. “I think I’m going to give everyone living here a little gift!” The girl stares as I struggle to carry seven boxes at once. “How will you deliver all of them?” I bite my lip. “Um, I know I’ve asked a lot of you, but... would you mind, um, maybe helping me just a bit? I promise I’ll repay you.” The girl glances at the boxes and says, “yeah, okay.” Then, the girl follows me, carrying twelve boxes on her own while I carry eight, and we deliver them down all of the rows of doors. I knock on each one and say, “hey, it’s Ella, I have a little somethin’ for ya!” and someone (mostly single moms and college drop outs who live alone) open the door and gasp in surprise when I hand them a box. A few of the elderly people chuckle and say, “you’re so sweet, child!” or something. The moms usually thank me and sometimes say, “[my child] will love this!” or something. Even the loners, guys who live alone smoking and who never talk to anyone, take a box, saying, “thanks kid,” and smiling before closing their door. We take several trips and end up giving every apartment a box, with three boxes left over. The girl watches as I open a box and start eating the cookies. Silently I hand her one and she seems confused. Then I realize she doesn’t know how to open it. “Oh, these boxes are really confusing, I’m so sorry I should have warned you,” I say, leaning and taking the box from her. She watches, somewhat dumbfounded, as I open it. I make sure to do it slowly and give her an explanation on how to open it as I do so, because everyone deserves to be able to get themselves some cookies. Then I hand her the box and she says, “thank you.” And I say, “of course!” We eat in silence for a few seconds. Then, finally, she says, “do you truly care for the forest?” “Of course.” “You don’t want something out of it?” “No.” “Even if it’s just a reward for your hard work? You don’t want something in return? Doesn’t that seem unfair?” I shake my head. “No.” She pauses again. We’re both finished our cookies and I find myself staring at her scars-which-are-seeming-less-and-less-like-scars again. “So if I were to tell you that in the center of the forest there was a treasure...” She stares at me, waiting for a response. But somehow I feel like there’s more. Eventually she says, “and suppose that treasure could only be collected by someone who truly cares for the forest. You wouldn’t take the treasure? It’s not like anyone else would take it. And doesn’t it seem fitting for you to have a reward for your work? I saw you yesterday, helping those beetles.” I ponder this. “I already have my ‘rewards,’ I think. But even then, I don’t need rewards. It’s the other way around. The forest gave me food and shelter and kept me safe my entire life. It is the forest who deserves these ‘rewards,’ not me. That’s why I help. Also, I don’t really want rewards. Whatever treasure is there is the forests’ treasure and it should stay so.” Laura growls irritably. “I just want to give you something for your efforts. What you deserve, is all.” I shake my head again. “It’s not like that.” She stares at me. Her gaze seems to pierce through my skull. Finally she says, “if you truly think that it is the other way round, then that means you are putting yourself in service of the forest.” It’s not a question, but I nod. “Yes, in a way. The forest helped and raised me so I will help it however I can. It’s just... the right thing.” It sounds cliche but it’s the truth. Laura stands. “Then I have a favor to ask of you, a favor that is really the forests’ to ask.” I nod again. “Okay.” The girl takes me back into the forest and soon we’re back where we started, near the beetles’ new home. Then she delves deeper and deeper into the forest. Eventually we reach the point where I didn’t dare venture- after all, there’s a fine line between exploring and adventuring. I learned about the forest enough to be able to earn food and be satisfied with what it provided. I didn’t need to try and journey inwards for no other reason besides the thrill of adventure. But now the girl takes me directly into that blue mushroom level. Since it’s already getting dark, I can see the luminescence of every little plant, casting shadows across the blue grass. Stranger creatures scurry around, mostly albino squirrels with blue eyes and little beetles that have shells like the spotted mushrooms, and stranger still, birds with one eye in the center of their pale feathers, who’s wings are so big they fold up higher than the birds own head when not in use; and I even spot a few strange humanoid creatures, mushrooms with a single eye in the center of their stalks, who have grotesque little limbs sprouting from their stem and who, upon closer inspection, are actually made up of fine hair colored the same the mushrooms. They peek out from behind trees and stare up at me with their beady eyes. I try to ignore them, and respect them. The girl seems to be totally at ease, so I don’t worry myself too much. In fact, she looks like she knows her way around the forest even better than I do. Eventually we reach another level. This one is by far the oddest of all. The blue grass stops suddenly and in its place there is barren dirt. The trees suddenly thin out to the point where there’s hardly any; but the trees that are there are so tall, and have limbs so long, that there is a thin canopy of leaves providing a roof-like structure above our heads as we walk. There are a few rocks and boulders, but no life is anywhere to be seen besides the trees. Not even moss. The air is silent except for the whistling of the wind and the soft rustling of the trees. The air has a strange, almost chilled quality to it, despite being pleasantly warm in temperature. Weirdest of all, it smells like cinnamon and strawberries. I feel my nose lifting into the air on instinct, sniffing at the wind, trying to identify where the wonderful smells are coming from. As we continue deeper into the forest the ground starts to get wetter and wetter, until we’re walking through mud so watery it’s almost a giant puddle. I cuff my jeans really high and luckily, I’m going barefoot like normal, so I don’t have to worry about ruining my shoes. My pants end up getting splattered anyways but not too bad. Then the mud gets deeper. First it goes up to my ankles. Then we wade farther in until the mud rises halfway up my calf. Then it’s almost up to my knee. Luckily it doesn’t go much deeper than that, but it’s hard to walk with the mud slowing me down. Somehow I manage to find the best spots to walk through, the shallowest and the thinnest, so I don’t get nearly as dirty or slowed down as I could have. But Laura, the girl, seems to have even better luck. She walks through the mud like it’s not even there, and whenever she has to stop to let me catch up, she gives me a strange look. After a while I say, “if you don’t mind me asking, what does the forest need help with?” The girl doesn’t respond for a while. Then, out of nowhere, she says, “you’ll find out when we get there.” I just shrug off her strange attitude and continue going deeper into the forest. Something in the back of my mind suggests that this is a sort of trap- stories and legends of fairies and Fae luring humans into the depths of the forest cross my mind, and suddenly it reels with images of skeletons discarded under leaves, fairy circles with deadly mushrooms making the outline, tree stumps made into thrones that will never let you sit back up out of them... but then I shake off those doubts because I’m still in the forest. The forest protects me and I owe it. I am safe, I tell myself, and I believe it. Whoever this girl is, she will not hurt me, and wherever I go I will not be hurt. I owe it to the forest to at least try to help however I can. By the time Night has fully fallen, the mud has started getting shallower again. Eventually we reach a point where we’re walking on regular dirt again, although I see with some dismay that we both leave muddy tracks behind us. The mud crusts to my legs as I walk and soon I have a layer of dried mud coating my entire legs, stiff against my skin, crumbling a bit when I bend my legs too much. And then we reach our destination. The ground switches from dirt to tall grass, so tall I couldn’t see anything past it. The grass was lush and green, and beautifully swaying in some unfelt wind. When we entered the new level I suddenly felt the air get warmer, like on a nice summer day, and there was a slight breeze that rustled the grass and made my hair billow out behind me. The air went from silent to melodic as I heard hundreds of different birds sing over top of one another, their calls overlapping to create a sound like springtime but stronger. I saw them flying above me, colorful specks against the blue sky. The air smelled even stronger, like cinnamon and strawberries but also like fresh grass and plants and flowers and, above all, like water. I could feel that there was water nearby, from the lushness of the ground beneath my feet, from the smell of the air and from the life that sprung up all around me. The girl carried on confidently and I followed, looking around as if to memorize every sight. The grass started to thin out and get smaller, until finally we were in an open grassy field. Flowers too numerous to count filled the entire field, of all colors and sizes and shapes, and I saw trees around us, massive trees, bigger than any I’d ever seen before; their trunks were deep hazelnut colors and bright beiges and every full brown color you could imagine, and they were at least ten feet thick. Their trunks rose up into the sky and I just barely could make out their tops, with leaves of greens and silvers and limes and even some reds and yellows. I could see more birds now, and there were colorful birds and big birds and small birds and even some predatory birds like hawks. Squirrels and rabbits and foxes thrived in the field and the trees. A few snakes were hidden around the edges of the tall grass, with mesmerizing scales of all colors. Strange but just as beautiful creatures could be spotted occasionally; deer as white as snow, with big golden eyes and silvery hooves; birds that looked like owls with gold and silver feathers, and three purple eyes; I even spotted a few reptilian creatures that were essentially tiny drakes, like dragons without wings, with scales that shone beautifully with richer colors than I had ever seen and eyes showing intelligence perhaps even deeper than a human’s. And beyond the flower field, I saw what we had come for. The lake. It was much bigger than I had thought; I could barely see the island in the middle. The water was so clear it almost seemed invisible, but now that I could see it I could hear it too. The small ripples made from fish or birds or falling leaves made the slightest sound, a small trickling noise. The girl took me to the edge of the water and gave me a few seconds to take it in. It seemed shallow at first, but once I looked closer I noticed that it was actually very deep- frighteningly deep, in fact. Logs that seemed to be normal size were probably actually as big as the trunks around me, and they layer across the bottom nestled in the sand, dangerously deceptive. Fish swam near the surface and lurked in the bottom; there were schools of silvery little fish and some tropical-looking fish, as well as a few types of koi lingering in the shallower parts of the lake. Water grasses and corals and underwater reeds grew along the bottom. Deeper down I saw flickers of movement, creatures too far down to see entirely, most likely massive, tails twitching, waiting for something to come close enough... “Do you know what this place is?” the girl asks me. I tear my eyes from the depths of the lake and instead look up into the distance. In what I’m guessing is the center of the lake, there’s an island. “I’ve heard a tale,” I reply carefully. “Of the center of the forest. The tale spoke of a lake and an island, but it never mentioned anything as magnificent as this.” The girl was staring straight through me, but I couldn’t seem to look away from the water. The girl said, “words cannot describe it, anyways. Is that all you know?” I force my head to turn, and look at her. “I’ve heard more about it, but...” I hesitate. Then I say, “I’ve heard rumors of creatures that look like humans, but are not. The tales said that they lived on an island in the middle of the lake.” The girl gives me a strange look and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach. I remind myself that I’m still in the forest and that the forest will protect me. I take a deep breath and add, “and I’ve heard that they aren’t the biggest fans of humans.” The girl grins suddenly and I notice that her canines are a big longer and sharper than a humans should be- just slightly. The scars on her neck pulse slightly (or was that me imagining things?) and she says, “the island is where you need to go, if you wish to help the forest.” I nod. I kind of knew this was coming, ever since we reached the mud I knew something along these lines was going to happen. I turn back to the water and say, “is there any way to the island where I don’t have to disturb the water?” And where I don’t have to swim across, because despite the fact that the forest protects me I don’t think I’m capable of swimming that far? I think, but don’t say. The girl shakes her head, and then says, “once you get to the island, you’ll know what you have to do.” Then she turns and leaves, going back into the tall grass. Somehow I know not to follow. I turn back towards the water and hesitate for a second. Then I think once again, the forest protects me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath: the forest protects me. I remove my shirt, then my jeans, and feel the sun warm my bare skin. The forest will protect me. Wearing only my underclothes, I take a step. Then another. The water touches my feet and the mud melts away, staining the clear water. I wince as it creates a cloud of dirt- I felt like I was somehow disrespecting the forest by doing that. But then, no, I think, mud is not harmful. It is not disrespectful, to the forest. The forest is made up of mud. I inch farther in and the water rises quickly to the backs of my knees. The mud washes off and I wait, still, until the mud settles on the bottom and the water is clear once again. Then I wade in further and soon the waters up to my belly. It’s pleasantly cool, warmed by the sun. I look over at the island and then down at the bottom, and suddenly I get a thought that seems right. The bottom of the lake seemed to call me, the same way I had been pulled in this direction ever since I was in the forest; I had finally found the source and it was stronger than ever. I take another step, then another, and the water is up to my chin. I take a deep breath and walk forwards some more. My head submerged and I close my eyes. When I open them, I’m staring directly into another pair. Wide, yellow irises stare directly into mine, inches away. And around them the water takes a different form; bubbles swirl inside of a figure that I make out to be some sort of siren. The form fades away at the waist, leaving me to wonder what it’s legs look like- if it has any. I look into it’s eyes and think, if you are the forest, then what do I need to do? The figure, in response, flies towards me; I hold in a scream as it launches into my body, directly on my ribs, and the current of water splits over my ribcage and slowly dissolved until it’s just regular water again. And then I know, the same way I knew what the beetles wanted, what I need to do. I walk forwards, holding my breath. Then I realize I’m on a timer and walk forwards more, increasing my pace. A few koi swim along my side and through my long hair, which streams behind me like liquid gold. Their tails tickle me a little bit but I try my best to let them be. My feet sink into the sand as I try to push myself forwards, making it impossible to get a real grip on the ground. I keep going, and soon my lungs are burning. Big fish, catfish and tuna and other fish I don’t have names for, swim past me, sometimes growing to sizes even bigger than myself. Smaller fish still dart around my side and through my hair, perhaps attracted by the promise of some protection, or maybe just exploring. ‘Fields’ of seaweed and sea grass surround me, along with the occasional coral. I push myself farther, faster, and it gets a little bit darker as I go. The fish get bigger and bigger until every one is at least twice my size. At one point a catfish swims right past me, that was so big, it was almost the size of a car. Sea stars and sea urchins start to decorate the sandy bottom, laying in patches of sea grass or just half-buried in the sand, so I watch my steps to make sure I don’t step on any of them. Soon my lungs feel like they’re burning. I try to think of how long it’d been, but I can’t tell if it’s only been a minute or if it’s been ten. Time seems somehow frozen down here. I get deep enough that I see the log that is spotted from above, and it turns out I had been right; it was the size of one of the trees back on the surface, so big around I could fit a small house inside of it, and the inside was hollow, making a sort of cave that sheltered tiny, colorful fish, as well as several exotic looking sea plants. As I walk up to the log, I see a flash in the corner of my vision and turn. My stomach drops when I see the creature. It’s at least a hundred feet long, and it’s almost as big around as the log I was passing by. I couldn’t tell what type of fish it was- perhaps it was an entirely different species. It had smooth, dark gray skin, and beady eyes the size of trash can lids. It’s tail moved slowly but dangerously, like a shark’s. It’s mouth was closed but I’d bet anything it had teeth in there. I almost stopped walking, but my burning lungs kept me going. I clung to the side of the log, trying not to look at the creature. Slowly it swims off somewhere too far away to see, and if I could breath I’d let out a big sigh of relief. But as I go deeper things get even stranger. I find a few skeletons that look eerily human, buried almost entirely underneath the sand. The fish are only getting bigger and more strange; anglerfish-type things float around with luminescent bulbs from their heads and toothed grins five feet wide; fish with no eyes dart around, tails twisting in odd ways, mouths taking over their entire face; giant squid soon start to appear, sitting in the sand or floating above me- at points I have to alter my course to walk around a squid because it’s so big, and I’m afraid to disturb it. At this point my lungs should probably be dying. Maybe they even are- they feel like it, anyways. It’s all I can do to not take a deep breath. Schools of fish flicker above me, casting shadows that seem much more evil than they really are. I pass by another log, and more massive creatures. Soon, I’m at what I’m pretty sure is the bottom. I look up, eyes straining despite the clarity of the water. Then I see the slight shadow- it was big around, but dull in color, hard to find- sitting above me. The island, I think dully. As I think that I see another flicker of movement and turn to face those same yellow eyes. I look into them and they seem to stare through me the same way the girl, Laura, did. Then I know what to do again. I have to swim up. Tentatively, I pump my arms and legs. Sand swirls beneath my feet, disrupted by the sudden movement. A few big fish flick their tails to move away from the sound, or maybe they just sensed the movement. I’m sorry, I think, but I can’t say it. I pump my arms and legs again and go higher. Then I start swimming up as if my life depended on it, because it literally did, kicking as hard as I could to get through the water and pumping my arms until they feel like they’re going to fall off. As I get higher and higher, the fish get smaller and less frequent, and the water gets clearer and lighter. A few times I have to stop and wait as schools of fish pass above me; other times I freeze as a school of curious fish swirl around me. When I get close enough to the surface that I can feel the sunshine, warm on my skin, I kick desperately, pursing my lips to keep from taking a deep breath. My lungs cry for air and my vision starts to black out, but slowly, very slowly. Slowly than it should have, probably. I kick harder and harder and adrenaline rushes through me as I swim to the surface. The island is clear now, a dark outline just above me. When I’m close enough to make out the details of the rocks and dirt on the island, I kick one final time, hard. I burst to the surface, and take a deep breath. It feels amazing. Quickly I grab the dirt and stone and drag myself onto the surface of the island, where I lay, panting. Then, slowly, I get up, remembering my unknown task. My lungs still burn a little bit but every breath is like healing balm. My vision is completely clear now, and despite my sore arms and legs I get up and look around. The island seems somewhat normal at first. It’s overgrown with the same lush grasses and flowers as the forest on the other side of the lake had had, and a few big trees grow from the center of the island- they seem bigger and more ancient than the rest. Little houses, surprisingly sturdy, seem to grow out of the dirt. They’re made of single blocks of wood, the bark still on, with neat little crystal windows and rounded doors somehow attached, like they had been grown there along with the rest of the house. The rooftops are a canopy of thick leaves which seems to grow from the walls and form almost a dome of foliage above the house. I look around at the houses, but nobody seems to be there. Despite this I feel eyes on me, more than one person watching, hiding and waiting- but for what I did not know. On instinct I walk up to the tree in the very center of the island, which seems to be the oldest. It’s certainly the biggest either way. I carefully place my hand on the bark and whisper, “what can I do for you?” The wind rustles the leaves and a few birds chirp. Then, something falls from the tree. I watch it’s spiral downwards as if in a trance, and then when it’s almost reached the ground, I move quickly and extend my hand, catching it. It’s a nut, by the looks of it, but it’s very strange, unlike any other nut I’d seen. It’s golden in color and seems to give off its own glow; it’s shaped somewhat like an almond, except it’s more diamond-like, with little ‘corners’ coming from four directions. It’s almost like a star, in a way. I look up at the tree, but everything has gone silent, save for the rustling of leaves. Then I look back at the nut and realize that I’m meant to eat it. “Will this help you?” I ask, confused. There’s a silence. I look up at the tree and my eyebrows knit together. “If you want me to eat it, I will. But I came here to help you.” The tree’s branches sway above me and a single leaf falls down, its flight slow and careful. I watch. It lands lightly on the grass in front of me and I pick it up, and suddenly I know that I’m supposed to eat this nut. I whisper, “thank you...” and bring it hesitantly to my mouth. It’s the scent I’d been smelling this entire time; it had to be. It smelled of cinnamon and strawberries and blueberries and pine, of fresh snow and the forest in spring. Another whiff of it brings to mind memories from the past that I’d long forgotten. I remember myself as a child, exploring the forest. I remember coming there after school, stomach growling, and finding food in the bushes. I remember coming to know the trees and animals as my friends, and I remember leaving my apartment to sleep amongst the grasses and rocks when it was nice enough outside. I remember sitting and playing in the leaves and laying in the snow and I remember all the animals I’d helped, all the plants I’d helped to grow, watering them every day, even in winter when my hands would be so stiff I could barely bend them. I remember talking to the plants and feeling them listen. Then I place it in my mouth. Immediately I taste blood. The coppery stuff fills up my entire mouth but I keep chewing until there’s so much of it, I stumble back, choking. I sputter and cough and the blood splatters out of my mouth and drips down my chin, and I see some of it splash onto the lush grass, deep, dark red, glistening against the soft green, and I think, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. The blood keeps refilling my mouth as I chew, even after I sputter and choke and try to swallow it down. Soon the ground in front of me is painted red, and my chin is most likely stained as well. My nose starts to bleed and I feel warm, fresh blood flow down over my lips. Something trickles from my ears and I bring my hand to it, and pull it away sticky with warm blood. My eyes, too, start watering, but then my vision goes red and I blink and hot tears stream down my face, falling to the ground and adding to the small puddle of blood that I’m making. But I don’t even want to spit out the nut, because I know I’m fine. The forest protects me. I’m supposed to eat the nut. The forest protects me. I will never get hurt so long as I have its protection. I keep chewing, although it’s very hard and I feel it scratching at my cheeks. When I chew more and more I start to taste a little bit of cinnamon, but then it’s quickly erased by the taste of bitter copper. The inside of the nut feels smooth and cold in my mouth, almost like ice, except smoother. Memories flash even quicker, until I cant see from the combination of bloody tears and memories. Blood took over all of my senses, all I could smell was blood, all I could taste was the warm metallic stuff on my tongue, all I could see was the deep red flowing over my eyes, all I could hear was the steady dripping of my blood into the grass as it poured down my face, and all I could feel was the stickiness and warmth as it streamed from my nose, my eyes, my ears and my mouth. Memories of darker times come back to me. Times when I stumbled through thorns at night and trailed blood through my apartment because I didn’t have bandages to cover the holes in my arms and legs. Times when I didn’t know how to find food as well as I did now, when I slept in the cold snow with a stomach so empty it felt as if it has shriveled up and ceased to exist, half hoping that the forest would take me and I would die there and then and the suffering would end. I remembered times when I stepped on splinters so big they pierced through my food and I had to go to the hospital, which pushed me so far into debt I almost lost my apartment. I saw myself stumbling through the bug level for the first time, almost lost, unsure of where to go next, seeing new horrors at every corner. I remember starving over and over, or freezing, or overheating, throwing up from pain or temperature or sickness I couldn’t afford to heal. I see in my mind bloody grass and trees, holes drilled into my eyes and through my hands and feet, me retching so much that nothing would come out until finally, I heave, and my throat is clogged with blood and guts and bile and the soft tissue of my stomach, and I heave and heave and double over and sputter and finally my stomach dribbles out of my mouth and piles into the grass, a mass of pink and red, and suddenly I’m empty. And then I think, no, none of those things happened. It’s not real. I see spiders the size of a house clicking pincers at me and slowly spinning me into their web, and me falling into endless pits, every time I struggle getting more entwined in their sticky stringy webs until finally I’m frozen. I see rain falling down but when it reaches my face, it’s hot blood, and I choke on it. I watch as fires burst into being around me and the smoke clogs my lungs and when I try to speak my voice is gone- my throat is burned to a crisp. I see myself wandering through the snow and suddenly the snow turns into infection and pus, and the icicles fall down and pierce my skin and blood mixes with the pus to make lakes of pain. I blink, trying to clear the red from my vision. I’m still chewing. No, I tell myself. None of its real. None of it is real. The forest will protect me. I cling to the thought as images flash in my mind. Horrors of the forest brought to life in false memories. Old memories being twisted into gruesome nightmares. Nausea starts to rise within me as more blood chokes me, but I cough it up and chew faster. And then, suddenly, the images stop. The blood clears from my vision and my senses slowly come back. I hear the trees and the birds again. I notice faintly that I’ve fallen to my knees and that both of my hands grasp at the tree, as if trying to stroke it. Blood splatters all over the trunk and waters the grass below me, and I feel it in my mouth, a bitter aftertaste of what was just there. The blood flow from my nose and mouth and ears and eyes slows to a stop and weakly, I use my forearm to swipe at my nose and lips. Then I stare down at myself. The entire front of my body is covered in blood, streams that flow down my neck and splatter over my chest, run down my torso and twist down my legs like I’d had an early period. I feel it still dripping from my chin and wipe at my face again, pulling my forearm away to reveal it covered and stained with blood. I realize I must look horrible. The nut is still clenched between my teeth, so I continue chewing, but no new blood comes to fill my mouth or choke me. I hear birds chirping softly and feel the warmth of the sun. As I chew I taste cinnamon and strawberries again, and savor the taste. Looking up at the tree, I chew and chew and wait for something. An answer. An explanation. An order. A request. Nothing happens. But as I chew and swallow I feel something start to change. The water becomes even clearer and my vision brightens. Suddenly I can see all the way over to the other side of the lake, and not even a hint of pink tints my view. The blood slowly dries and then dissipates, and my face slowly, somehow, rids itself of the blood. I place my fingers on my upper lip and pull them away clean. Then I look down and see that the blood has cleared from the rest of my skin as well. The only indication of anything gone wrong is the blood staining my bra and underwear, and splattering on the tree and grass. I feel guilt rush through me and stand quickly, running over to the lake. Then I take a handful of water, pressing my fingers together tightly, and run it back over to the tree. I splash it onto the trunk and rub furtively. Some of the blood runs off. As I chew the rest of the nut, I repeat that series of steps, running to get water and then using it to clean the tree. Soon the bark is good as new, but the grass, on the other hand, is even worse. I bite my lip. I don’t want to leave it there, but I can’t really put it into the water either. I decide to leave it as is, whispering a “sorry” to the grass. Then, as I chew away the last point of the nut, I feel a burning pain in my lungs and heart. The forest will protect me, I think, falling to my knees and grasping at my ribs. I gasp for air as if it’ll help with the pain. If anything, the pain grows, a searing pain different from any I’ve felt before; it feels like someone is pressing a branding iron to every inch of my lungs and heart. My vision spots again, stats flickering in and out of view. For a second I’m worried that I’m going to pas out. But then, as suddenly as it came, the pain leaves, and I continue to kneel for a bit, panting and chewing, before slowly rising to my feet again. I look up at the tree and lay a weary hand on its trunk. What do you need from me? I think. A second nut falls from the leaves, and I catch it. It’s the same as the first one, but with more points, and it’s much bigger. I finally finish chewing the first and swallow it. It’s thick and tastes strongly of cinnamon as it goes down my throat, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. I stare at the second nut in my hand, dreading what’s going to come next. The forest will protect me, I think, almost like a prayer. I bring the nut to my mouth and inhale. It brings the same memories, but fewer, and it smells the same, but this time I can smell something else. Something bright, like lavender. I place it in my mouth and chew. Nothing happens. My brows knit together again and I chew, hard, and tense up, waiting for something to happen. I chew and chew and chew and not so much as a single drop of blood falls to my tongue. When I’ve chewed off all of the points I’ve started to think that maybe this was defective. Maybe I needed to have a third nut, so I could do what the forest wanted me to. I reach the core of the nut, which tastes of everything good and everything sweet, and I think, was this supposed to happen? But the forest knew better so I swallow and wait. A warmth fills my stomach, the same sort of warmth you feel after drinking hot chocolate on a cold day. I feel my throat bob as if someone was trying to use my voice to speak for me. I feel my hands and feet twitch on their own. And then I’m still, and I wait. Nothing happens. And then a voice comes from behind me and it’s so close that I jump. “You found your way here pretty quickly for a human.” I turn to find Laura staring at me. I manage a small smile. When I bring my tongue across my teeth I taste a bit of blood. “Yeah, well, the forest helped me out a lot. I never would’ve gotten here at all without it.” The girl stares at me and looks me up and down. I get really embarrassed and flushed until I realize she’s looking at the blood staining my clothes, not my boobs. “I’m fine,” I say softly when she meets my eyes. “You are.” “The forest gave me a strange nut,” I say. Somehow I feel like I owe her an explanation. “And I started bleeding everywhere. But it’s fine. Except, I couldn’t find a way to clean it from the grass.” I blush and gesture to the patch of bloody grass. The girl nods. “Well, now that you’re here, I can explain you what the forest wants.” She turns and enters one of the houses and I follow her. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and the feeling of being watched intensifies. I enter the room and look around. It smells wonderfully of pine and of fresh leaves and grass. The floor is wood smoothed by years of wear, and there’s little patches of grass that are like carpet but somehow even softer. Flowers grow from the ceiling and along the walls, and in little pots and areas of dirt on the floor. In the ceiling of leaves, little patches thin out, filtering in viridescent light. The room I first see is perhaps a kitchen. There are tree stump-like structures against one wall, and one of the stumps has a bowl-shaped indent with a hole leading downwards. The inside of the indent is coated with something clear- maybe dried sap or amber- and it holds a good amount of crystal clear water. Another stump has several simple tools laid out on it; a wooden bowl, a wooden spoon and a small obsidian knife; and a taller stump near the wall has a little door on hinges that makes it look like a fridge. In the center of the room there’s a big stump that expands outwards like a table, holding a small pot of colorful flowers and a homemade candle on it. There are several stumps somehow shaped like little chairs situated around the table. Laura leads me past this room and into another ‘carpeted’ room, with a single bed grown and structured from one singular piece of wood, and with a mattress of soft cottony material. The blankets and pillows seem to be made of pure silk, and the pillow is stuffed with various feathers. There’s a table connected/growing from the bed with another wooden bowl and candle on it, and several books stacked in the lower compartment. There’s a tiny room to our left that seems to be a bathroom. Laura stops in the bedroom and turns to face me. “How much do you know of this island? And the supposed creatures here?” I decide it’s not worth trying to cover anything up. “I’ve only heard rumors. But according to the rumors, this island houses really powerful creatures. Creatures that take on human forms. Most I’ve heard of have gills, apparently. I’ve heard that there are some who have tentacles growing from their backs and who can climb or navigate anywhere, and that there are some with shark-like teeth and strength. Most seem to just be like humans but with abilities and traits of aquatic creatures. But that’s only what I’ve heard. I wouldn’t say I KNOW anything.” The girl stares at me, hard. “If you came across one of these creatures, knowing they hated you- what would you do?” I pull my eyes away from her neck, where her scars lay innocently. “Well, it depends. If the creature is mad at me and tells me to leave, I’d leave. If it needs help I’d try to assist it however I could.-“ “Even though it hates you?” Laura asks, interrupting me before I can continue. I smile. “Just because it doesn’t like me doesn’t mean it deserves to be left helpless, or even dying, depending on what sort of help it needs. Besides, those creatures seem to be a part of the forest, just like any other creature. And I owe it to the forest to help however I can.” Something behind Laura shifts. I feel a little bit of excitement or maybe just anticipation build up inside of me because as I’m watching her scars they pulse again, and yes, I definitely saw it, I wasn’t imagining things this time. And I’ve slightly known all along but finally I could be sure. Laura’s jacket drops to the floor and I blush a little bit because now she’s just wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt, and her arms are bare and very strong-looking with a lot of muscle and, okay, listen. I may be some sort of nature-loving, vegetarian, in-service-to-the-forest type of girl in this dream but I’m still gay. And Laura has muscle. What do you expect? I try not to stare at her boobs because come on Ella, important moment here, don’t ruin it by being a useless lesbian. Her eyes lock with mine and I see something shifting behind her back... no, not just something, but some things, because I see shadows behind her moving and there’s definitely more than one thing behind her. Slowly, one, then two, then four tentacles peek out from behind her back. She seems to be fully in control of them, like they’re just extra limbs. I bring my gaze back down to her eyes and say, softly, “do you really hate me?” And Laura says, “I don’t know.” I smile a little sadly. “That’s okay. I don’t know how to feel about myself, either.” Then I say, “this is your house?” She nods. “This is really cool. Did you make it yourself?” “You ask a lot of questions,” Laura replies. I laugh. “Well, the world gives me a lot to question. I can’t help being just a bit curious.” “A bit,” Laura mutters. I laugh again. “Maybe, a lot.” She scoffs and then says, “yes, I did build this myself.” My eyes widen. “You made the wood grow this way... but that would’ve taken hundred of years.” She doesn’t say anything but looks at me. “Oh,” I whisper after a pause. “If you don’t mind me asking- how old are you?” Laura grins widely. “That depends.” I raise my eyebrows. “Technically, I am seventeen. My brain and body are seventeen, and have been for a while. I feel seventeen.” I shake my head, confused, so she continues. “But, I’ve lived for much longer than that. Hundreds of years. Ever since this forest came into being. So, think of me like a regular seventeen year old, but with the memories and wisdom of someone much older.” “And with tentacles,” I add. “And with tentacles,” she agrees. We stare at each other for a little bit and then suddenly I remember a bunch of things at once. “Does that mean there are others like you, here?” I say thoughtfully. “Yes,” Laura says. “They’ve been watching since you entered this level of the forest.” “Wait, so then... what am I supposed to do here? What does the forest really need from me?” I ask. “Well, that depends.” I wait, but this time she doesn’t continue. I frown. “Well, what do YOU want me to do?” Laura glances around at the room. She says, “I think I know, now.” She goes to walk past me and as she does, one of her tentacles lashes out and wraps around my waist, lifting me into the air. I inhale sharply but don’t complain or struggle. The tentacle is strong, and feels like a slightly lumpy but otherwise normal arm; it’s not slimy or anything, like you’d expect it to be. She carries me out of her house and walks over to the clearing where the biggest tree is situated. Her tentacle lifts me higher into the air until I’m being held directly above her head. My feet swing and I smile and close my eyes, tilting my head to feel the sunshine. Then I look down when I hear a soft murmuring. Several other people/creatures have gathered around Laura. They all seem to be around my age, but they all also have features like Laura’s. One looks to be about nineteen, and has yellow eyes and webbed hands. When he smiles I see that his tongue is long and forked. Another girl, who looks about six or seven years old, has paper white skin and blue eyes, with fluffy white hair and big buck teeth. Her legs are bent oddly and are stubbier than they should be, and her feet are huge. Her wrists curve inwards more than normal, and her nose is small and pointy and flushed. A girl who looks maybe my age goes to whisper to the boy next to her (who has fully black eyes and feathers growing along his sideburns, and large, flat ears), and when she opens her mouth to speak I see rows of sharp teeth, like a shark’s. She has the same ‘scars’ on her neck as Laura. Her arms are heavily toned and I don’t doubt that she probably has some sort of superhuman strength. About two dozen kids gather around me, all almost mimicking a different animal, in a way. Laura holds me higher and I hold my arms out a bit because I feel myself wobbling. “This is Ella,” she says. The murmuring voices hush. “The forest has called her, and it has given her the test.” As she says this she pulls from her pocket another nut exactly like the first one I ate. She lowers me to the ground and hands it to me, and whispers, “this is what you were called to do.” I feel dozens of eyes watching me. I sigh, then bring the nut to my lips; inhale the scent of cinnamon and strawberry and pine and fresh snow; and plop it into my mouth. Blood starts to fill my mouth and choke me again and I stumble past Laura, not wanting to splatter blood on her. I try to say, “sorry,” but my words come out gargled and I choke on them as more blood fills my throat. The memories start coming and everything goes as last time did, only this time I can see the ‘children’ around me, watching. Finally I sputter our the last of the blood and swallow the core of the nut. As if on command a second one falls, then a third. They’re both small, but have at least ten points. I place the first into my mouth and the same thing happens as the first, only this time even more blood fills my mouth, until I can barely breathe with it pouring from every orifice. Finally I finish that one and then, without even sniffing it, I place the third in my mouth. I chew. Nothing happens. I swipe at my nose and lips and look down in dismay to see that my bra and underwear are almost completely ruined with blood. The blood dissolves from my skin like it did a little bit ago, and I walk past the crowd of ‘kids’ muttering “sorry, hold on,” to get water and clean the blood away. I dump the water on the grass and tree and slowly the blood rubs away and seeps into the dirt. I feel something wrap around my waist and I’m lifted into the air again. Laura says, “the forest called her and she chose the path that lead back to it, every time. It has been many years, and we have never had a new member after so long, but the forest cannot lie.” Murmuring starts up again and I decide that it’s not of much concern to me. After all, the forest has protected me. It will continue to protect me. These people were talking about things that weren’t yet of my concern, so I lift my face to the sky and watch the birds, ignoring them. After all, I can hardly hear what they’re saying anyways. Eventually I hear one of them call my name, softly but at the same time louder than they’d all been speaking before. I look down and the rabbit girl is looking up at me curiously, innocently. I’m lowered to the ground by Laura and the rabbit girl takes my hand and leads me past the clearing to a different part of the island. There’s thick foliage growing in a mostly perfect circle with a small gap at our end. Rabbit girl leads me to the center of the circle. Mushrooms grow in a smaller circle within the shrubbery, and in the center there’s a tree stump set into the ground, smoothed over with many many rings blending into one whole. Rabbit girl steps onto the stump and invites me to do the same. I step inside and she looks up at me with wide eyes. “You cannot lie here,” she states. “Oh,” I say. “Okay.” The stares at me. “Why did you come here?” I open my mouth to respond but before I can choose what to say, words tumble from my mouth, and I choke as they force their way up my throat and onto my tongue; my body speaks all on its own. “I knew the forest wanted me to come.” She nods. “Why do you care what the forest wants?” Again, words that are not my own vomit from my mouth. “I feel that I owe it, at the very least, my care.” Again, the girl nods like I’d said something correct. “Okay. But why did you eat the nut?” The words bubble up from my stomach. “The forest wanted me to.” “How did you know?” “I could just tell. The forest seems to tell me things. Not like speaking, but simply knowledge placed in my mind, and I’m sure it is from the forest’s hand which puts it there.” She purses her lips and says, “but then why did you continue to eat it after you started bleeding?” I gasp. My throat starts to burn and my feet can’t move from the wood beneath me. “I knew the forest protect me.” “How?” “I know. It always has. Always will.” The words are starting to make me cough and my throat constricts with every syllable. The girl’s blue eyes pierce into mine, just like Laura’s did. “And why did you eat the second when you knew how much pain the first caused? Even if you knew you wouldn’t die, why go through that again? You can’t even see a purpose, or a reason for it. Why?” My face starts to get hot and I’m sure I’m turning red. My hands shake. “I don’t know.” I’m surprised as the answer leaves my mouth. The girl, too, seems a bit confused. “What?” “I don’t know.” “How do you not know?” “Some things are in our nature to do. We sleep because our bodies tell us to, even if we don’t know why we need to. I don’t know why I do whatever the forest wants of me. But it feels right in the moment, despite the blood and the pain.” The girl stares at me for a long time. My throat is so tight that the air whistles as I breathe. Finally she steps off of the tree stump and my throat relaxes. I move my feet and find that they actually obey my command. Then I try to speak, quietly. “What are you guys discussing?” The girl shakes her head and I follow her out of the circle of bushes and mushrooms. We go back to the little field to find everyone waiting, somewhat anxiously. Soft muttering flits around the small crowd. People seem agitated, almost. I spot Laura near the far left, not speaking, watching me. I smile slightly. She continues to stare at me with an expressionless face. “Wait by the water until we have decided,” the rabbit girl says to me. I walk obediently over to the little beach, wondering what they’re deciding. My fate, by the sound of it. I can’t even hear them talking now, aside from the occasional shout. I watch as they move around, and I can just barely make out Laura, standing near the middle of the crowd and talking a lot. Rabbit girl, too, is doing a lot of talking, while the others listen and then begin to discuss or argue. I dip my feet into the water and sigh. It’s warm and comfortable, and the sun is still shining warmly on my face. I kick my feet, making the sand swirl up on the little beach and revealing ancient looking shells. Carefully, I pick up a flat, strangely shaped shell, and clean it off in the water. It’s absolutely beautiful; on one side it is a plain pearly white, and on the other it’s every color of a sunrise. Pinks and reds and oranges swirl with lilacs and baby blues, and dark, almost black colors tint the outermost edges. A few yellows are mixed in here and there. I look at it for a while, until I spot rabbit girl and Laura coming towards me at an alarming speed. I carefully (but quickly) place the shell back into the sand and stand up. Laura reaches me first, and says, “follow me.” Rabbit girl reaches me next and adds, “it was a close call, and not many are very happy about it, but we’ve made our decision.” I sigh and nod, still confused about the decision but knowing well enough by now not to ask. Laura takes off briskly, and I have to almost run to catch up to her. It makes me seem slow but in reality she’s using her tentacles as extra limbs to push her forwards. She takes me past the crowd of watching and murmuring people and past the little circle of mushrooms and bushes. We get to an eerier patch of bushes, which have thorns protruding from every surface. The bushes rise at least three feet above my head, and seem to form a weird mini forest. “Go inside, and treat what you find with utmost respect,” rabbit girl says. I nod. “Of course.” The two watch me expectantly. I turn to face the thorns and know immediately what I have to do. I sigh again, then grit my teeth and walk forwards into the bush. The thorns send searing pain along my arms, legs, face and torso, and I close my eyes and purse my lips to lessen the damage. I hold both arms in front of my face and push farther into the bush; I feel hot blood running down my limbs again, down my torso and spine and even my head and the back of my neck. It’s not as bad as the nut in many ways, but the pain being so spread out makes it hard to walk. I feel several thorns stay buried in my flesh when I go to move again. I continue like that for a few feet before I finally break through the bush. I exhale and peek my eyes open to make sure, then lower my arms. I’m inside of what’s basically a cave made out of bushes. Thorns form a roof and walls all around me, and it seems completely impenetrable otherwise. The sunlight is almost completely blocked by the thorns; only a few weak rays make their way past all of the leaves to illuminate the little ‘room’ I’m in. I look around. In the center of the little room there’s a tiny puddle, and next to it, a single rose. The rose is beautiful but somehow I get the feeling I shouldn’t even touch it; the red is too dangerous looking for me. I first stoop down and, taking my time, remove every thorn. Luckily my underwear blocked my more sensitive areas, but my legs and even inner thighs are covered in half-buried thorns. After taking them all out- even from my back and scalp, which takes time- I walk over to the puddle. The grass is so soft beneath my feet I can barely feel it; I imagine that this is what it feels like to walk on clouds. When I crouch down to the puddle, it shimmers and changes. It’s not water like I thought originally. The liquid changes from complete, crystal clearness to a shimmering and shifting rainbow of blues. As I move my head the angle changes the color of the puddle; one angle shows the clear image, while another shows a turquoise, and yet another a deep, royal blue. I place my finger gently into the puddle. It just barely makes contact with the surface before I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. In fact, I feel myself fly backwards and my breath leaves my lungs all at once. But then I realize somethings wrong when I see my body still kneeling at the puddle, motionless, and look down at my ‘hands’ to see nothing. I fly backwards faster and faster and rise above the clouds; and then, I’m in the stars, with nothing else in sight but the dark sky and little specks of light a million light years away. I turn, somehow, and see a single star, right next to me. I place my hand on it and suddenly I’m in a completely white room; some distance away there is a small, fragile tree. I walk over to it. It reminds me of the Christmas tree from Charlie Brown. Except the leaves are every single color you can imagine, fading gradually so that each leaf is beautifully iridescent. I cannot exactly speak, but somehow I express my words. “You are the forest,” I say. And I feel something else express itself to me. “And you are Ella, my child.” “Yes... what is it you want from me?” There’s a small pause, and then- “I do not ‘want’ anything from you. Instead, I have what some call a gift.” “What is it, really?” I ask. “It is your nature. The people I call here are all my children, even if they do not know it. I simply help to bring out their inner natures, and with that, so that they should live with me forever, in my heart.” “You are lonely,” I realize. “It is very lonely to be a forest,” it replies. “You are many and you are none. And yet as you age you watch so many things pass by. All I had was myself, until I found my children.” I look at the little tree and smile. “Well, you are not so lonely anymore. Perhaps I can help with that, if not just a little bit.” The forest says, “and that you will, child.” Then I feel a numbness take over me. My vision ceases to exist. My hearing goes blank. I can’t feel or touch anything, or even flex my body; it doesn’t exist. I am just consciousness. And then, I become more. Slowly I begin to regain senses, but they’re different. Strange. Powerful. And then I open my eyes and find myself kneeling in front of the puddle, where I was before. I look down at my new body. My feet have been replaced with long, sharp talons, but I can see how the structure of them evolved from my toes. I have three claws at the front of my foot and one sticking from the back. When I shift my weight I find that the back claw helps amazingly with balance. My legs, arms and torso seem relatively unchanged. They’re still pale, smooth and skinny. Except now an extra layer of muscle wraps around my arms and legs- especially my arms. And I don’t have any body hair at all, not even under my arms. Instead, I see little feathers growing randomly near where my claws start, and slightly bigger feathers growing near my armpit and ribs. They’re a pretty brown color, faded to gray near my armpits. Another strange thing I notice off the bat is a weird flap connecting each of my arms to my torso. It’s small, but loose. When I stretch my arms straight out as far as I can, the flap pulls tight, and I see feathers growing all down both sides of the flap. It’s almost like the equivalent of a flying squirrel’s ‘wings,’ but smaller. My hands have similar, web-like connections between the fingers; and those little stretches of skin are also covered in tiny feathers. My nails have turned into small but very dangerous looking claws. I feel my senses change too. All of a sudden I can hear people murmuring, and I can make out exactly what they’re saying, despite the fact that I know they’re all so far away from me I can’t even see them. I hear things I didn’t hear before as well; the platter of leaves when they land on the ground, the swishing of a fish as it moves it’s tail in the water somewhere nearby, the wind rustling leaves so far above my head they almost touch the sky. My eyes, too, seem different. I can see perfectly in this dark, cave-like room of bushes. In fact, I can see so well that I make out both the rabbit girl and Laura waiting on the other side of the bushes. I blink and sniff, and find that my sense of smell is the same as before, but my nose feels different. I reach up to feel it and find that my nose is almost completely gone; I have just barely a bump and two nostrils coming from it, and I feel soft stretches of the same brown feathers running up where each side of my nose should’ve been, like someone attempted to draw on my nose and forgot to fill it in. The feathers stop right at the corner of my eye. I reach up farther and feel my hairline, which has also changed. It starts at the same place but comes down in a perfect widows peak, and when I grab a piece of my hair it’s turned the same brown color as my new feathers. Then I turn to throw my hair back over my shoulder and nearly jump out of my brand new skin. A giant pair of beautiful brown wings sprout from my back. I reach behind me and feel where the feathers start to sprout from my skin; and then where new muscle, tendons and bones come out of the center of my back. I go to stretch my wings and then quickly fold them back up again; they’re so big they can’t fully expand in this prickly, thorny room. I turn and look distastefully at the thorn bushes, wondering how I would get out without my new wings. I hear Laura say in a whisper (which sounds clear as day to me, now), “how long did this usually take?” Rabbit girl says, “I told you, she wasn’t one of us. You put too much faith in the other creatures of the forest.” As she says that the leaves above me start to fold inwards. Soon there’s a hole big enough for me to fit through, right at the top of the bush. “Thank you,” I whisper, and almost jump at how loud it is. I glance at my wings and expand them slightly. Then I flap them, stretching and experimenting with my new muscles. When I feel I’m ready I crouch down and push off of the ground with my talons; I’m able to leap pretty high into the air, almost high enough to have just jumped out. Then I expand my wings fully and flap them, once, twice. I rise quickly into the air. “Woah,” I mutter, and flap a bit more, twisting them so I move to the side. Soon I’m close enough so that I can see rabbit girl and Laura. They don’t seem to notice me yet. I flap over to right above them, then move a bit left and glide downwards, stretching my wings and pointing towards the ground slightly. Just before I crash I pull my wings up, on some new instinct, and my talons catch the ground and dig into the dirt, making a graceful enough landing considering it’s my first time with a new body. I turn and see rabbit girl looking at me with an air of surprise. Laura says, “Ella?” “Yeah?” Then she laughs and says, “well, I did tell you my instincts knew best, didn’t I?” The rabbit girl smiles and then looks at me. “You did.” Then the dream ends.