Chapter Text
I found myself wandering around deep in the timber again. My head pounding, I clutched the knife close to the palm of my hand.
The sharp edge dug into the soft flesh, no doubt leaving at least a small rivet. The handle was wooden, a beautiful oak encapsulated in clear resin. I had gotten the knife as a gift years ago, on that damned day.
It had been a few hours since I was home last, the ambience from nature convincing me I was safe, and no one could find me. My tears were dried against my cheeks, my throat sore from wailing against my will.
Hours ago, I was locked inside the dark, screaming for something. I'm not sure what I was screaming for. Maybe for someone to hear me, and come to my rescue? Possibly comfort, maybe even just simple attention?
I'm not sure, it's hard to tell at this time. Maybe when I go back to the house I will find out,
but until then I will ponder as I walk about the trees.
If it weren't for the knife in my palm, there wouldn't be a slow blood trail leaking from my hand and onto the lush greenery. If it weren't for the knife in my palm, I would be, as my friend said once, traveling the stars in my mind.
The pain; the sting, it keeps me grounded on Earth. Earth, the planet where thousands scream for someone to hear them, or come to their rescue. Earth, the planet where thousands scream for comfort, let alone attention.
So now I'm here, pondering as I wander through the timber. The knife in my palm reminds me who I am, and my purpose.
Maybe in another universe I would have heard the branches snap, the wood breaking. Maybe on another planet I would have looked up in time, and maybe in another universe I would have lived.