It took all of my strength and will power to keep myself from falling to my knees and sobbing. Tears stung my eyes, threatening to roll down my cheeks and splatter onto the cold cement that lay complacently beneath me. What was the point in anything? In caring? In going to school? It all seemed so pointless if there was a possibility that there would be no tomorrow for me.

Taking in a deep breath, I walked out of the main office of my college, hoping to head home and get some studying done. The stress of my classes were beginning to take its toll on me; I hadn't been able to deal with stress very well since I had moved up to this god-forsaken place. I didn't like how it poured rain all of the time (at least in the miserable interval between winter and the end of spring), nor did I like the fact that there was no beach. I came from the sunny state of Florida in the States, where the Gulf of Mexico was literally seconds from my house. There was an ocean in Tokyo, yes, but the water was greasy and murky, and the sand no where near as soft and white as the kind I was used to.

The cold, wet air stung my face as I trudged home. I knew I should have brought a coat, but I hated wearing such heavy things when all I was used to was flip-flops, shorts and a tank-top year round. I knew that the first thing my friend would do is yell at me for not wearing one, claiming it would get me sick and—because everyone in Tokyo lived in such close quarters—getting everyone else sick as well.

Rain began pouring down from the overcast sky. The droplets hit my skin as if they were needles, sending shivers of cold through my body. Just my luck to not have an umbrella, either.

I ducked into an alleyway between two apartment buildings. The metal stairs that trellised up their sides provided some shelter from the downpour. I crossed my bare arms, as if it would hold in my warmth. My pants and t-shirt were already soaked through, and I didn't even bother acknowledging the disastrous state of my hair (not like I ever bothered doing anything special to it anyway.)

With a sigh, I trudged farther back into the alley to see if I could find any more permanent shelter that would allow me to take out my phone without it being ruined by the rain. The alley came to a split that ran along a dilapidated wooden fence. The rain was so heavy, I could barely see three feet in front of me, so I chose to go left at random.

Eventually, there came a break in the fence that opened out into a standard yard-sized area. The grass was severely overgrown and dominated by weeds, so it was obviously abandoned. On the far side of the yard, barely visible through the blue haze of rain and growing darkness, I could see a little wooden shed that looked like it was about to fall in on itself. It was better than nothing, so I decided it would have to do.

Inside, it was more spacious than I at first thought. It was almost completely empty, save for a wooden box in the center. The box looked like some termites had started to eat away at it, small chunks missing from various areas. Taking out a lighter to get a better look at it, I could see that the lid was held down by rusty nails. The wood was so spongy from years of neglect, though, I could easily just pull the lid off in pieces with my nails. And of course, I am a curious person, so that's exactly what I began doing.

Snapping the lighter shut, throwing myself back into semi-darkness, I began chipping away the top of the box, scraping the spongy wood with my fingernails. In less than five minutes, the entire lid lay in tiny splintered pieces in the dirt around my feet. I quickly grabbed my lighter and flicked it back on, holding it above the box to see what was inside.

To my surprise, it was not a box—it was an old dry well. My friend had told me that there were wells like these all over Japan. They are supposedly sacred, and you were supposed to drop offerings into them and make prayers. Why would they nail one of these shut, though?

A rope ladder trailed down the inside of the well. It didn't look as old as everything else here, probably because the lid helped preserve it so well. Though, if offerings were thrown down the well, then maybe there were still some coins down there?

Solely to satisfy my greediness, I threw a leg over the side and started my way down as soon as my foot found a rung. It wasn't very deep at all, and the cobblestones that supported the walls could easily help me make my way out of the well should the ladder break. At the bottom, I shuffled my boots to move around the dirt, hoping to see something shine in the light of my lighter. After a few moments of this, I decided there was nothing to be found, and turned to start my way back up the rope ladder. But there was no ladder. I'd just used it though, hadn't I?

I did a three-sixty to examine the walls of the well. There definitely was no ladder. Where the hell had it gone?

"I hate exercise," I mumbled as I grabbed the cobblestones to climb my way out. Indeed I did hate exercise. Most people could tell that by my size. I was not as big as some people from America, but it was evident I was overweight. I liked myself that way, though.

Huffing and puffing, I rolled myself over the edge of the well and onto the ground. Damp, dewy grass met my face, and even though I was already soaking wet from the rain, it made me spring up. Because the floor inside of the shed was dirt, not grass. Unless grass had magically grown within the little hutch within the past five minutes, there was something wrong here. And, as I looked around, there definitely was something wrong.

For starters, the spongy wood of the well had gone from being, well, spongy, to being rock hard and brand new-looking. The dilapidated shed had been sucked away into oblivion somehow, as there was only a shelter above the well. It, too, looked brand new. It was even decorated with paper ornaments hanging on fresh rope. The fence surrounding the hut, as well as the buildings of the city, were completely obliterated, a large forest in its place. I could tell by the shade of light that the sun was setting. The rays were still strong, though, and they peeked around rain clouds that dotted the sky to shine through the trees onto the forest floor, turning everything a peaceful shade of orange and making all of the dew sparkle. The fresh smell of earth and wetness let me know that it had recently finished raining. It was truly beautiful here, the way everything glistened, the way that the smoggy odor of the city had been replaced with the crisp, fresh scent of rain and sunshine.

The chilly air began to make my body feel numb. The only thing that hadn't changed was the temperature, and if I didn't find somewhere to get dry, I would fall ill. I took off my backpack and dumped out my school supplies and replaced only what I thought would help. I took one small book, in case I needed to light it to help start a fire. I put in my lighter, as well, and two pencils and a notebook of paper. I also put in my thermos that was still full of water, and a granola bar I had neglected at lunch time. It wasn't much, but it was certainly better than nothing. I also came across my cellphone—no service—and decided I should keep it in case I ran into a signal.

I made my way west, towards the setting sun. I didn't know where I was, but I knew that going towards the ocean meant being out in the open, and who knows what could find me and eat me out in the open. Of course, as far as I knew, Japan had no predators but the people that inhabited it.

Eventually the trees broke onto a small stream that was no deeper than halfway up my calves. I could see fish swimming beneath the water's surface, and there was a tree across the way with an opening that indicated a hollow trunk. It would be a perfect place for me to rest, and the fish would provide an easy food source—not to mention that there was fresh water!

I sat down to take my boots off so I could wade across the stream-no need to get them even more soaked when they were the only protection I had for my delicate feet. However, just as I unlaced the first one, a deep, menacing growl came from across the stream. It was loud, and echoed through the trees. I could only freeze, hoping that it had the sight and brain of a tyrannosaurus. I dared to raise my eyes, scanning the shore of the stream for any movement. I could see nothing but the water of the babbling brook and the trees that lined it.

Again, a growl. It was lower this time, with an edge to it that made it sound like a hissing cat. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the trees like a breeze that signals the beginning of a storm. It blew from behind me, surely carrying my scent over to whatever lay in wait beyond the treeline of the opposite shore. A few meters behind the treeline, there was a deafening snap!, followed by a large tree toppling over and another low, drawn-out growl and a hiss. There was only one thing I could think: oh, shit son!

I immediately retied my boot into a knot, not bothering to make it look pretty, and grabbed my bag and booked it. I heard a loud splash!, a giveaway that whatever it was had picked up my scent, and it wanted me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, I thought with each step I took. It sounded big, hearing its feet beat against the earth as it tried to sniff out which way I was headed. More trees cracked and fell as the beast charged its way through the forest behind me. Hissing and yowling reached me as it voiced its desperate attempt to follow me, the echoes getting ever nearer and louder. Finally, I decided it would catch me anyway, and found a tree with low-lying branches and scrambled up as high as I dared go. Finally, what had been chasing me appeared below and jerked to a stop as my scent ran cold.

It was indeed huge—nearly the size of the entire three bedroom apartment I shared with my friend. Not to mention it looked like a cat that had been thrown into a vat of radioactive material. It's face kind of resembled one of those Egyptian hairless cats, though the baldness of it's head tapered into a coat of thick coal-gray fur. Its maw hung open as it panted, razor sharp teeth protruding out that prevented it from closing its mouth all the way. The body looked misshapen. The only thing I could think of with the same shaped body was a giraffe—high at the neck with a sharp downward slant on the back, and a level belly. The paws were humongous, bigger than my whole body, with claws of proportionate size.

The way its head turned toward me, slowly and knowingly, made my heart stop. Its eyes bore into me, immobilizing me with fear. Its irises were red and seemed to glow evilly as its black pupils grew and consumed me with hatred and hunger. At 19 years old, I can honestly say I had never been so scared in my entire life.

This is it, I thought. This is the end. I'm going to die.

The monster turned around and kicked the tree I was in with its hind legs. The tree was easily uprooted and both it and I were flung into the air at a sharp angle. I don't know how high we went, but we both went at least thirty feet. The tree landed not too far away from where it was uprooted, but I went farther. The second I hit the ground, I knew I had broken something. Upon impact, my vision went white and the encroaching numbness brought on by the cold and the wet only made the break of my leg seem that much more painful. I was only vaguely aware of the howl of victory from the beast as it hovered above me, its saliva dripping all over me at the scent of my blood.

I barely even noticed that suddenly the beast's heavy breathing was replaced by screeches of pain and anguish, and then silence. The only thing that alerted me that someone was carrying me was the severe pain that shot from my leg as I was lifted. My screams could surely alert more of those beasts. The softness of my savior's clothing didn't interest me, nor did their wonderful, earthy scent. I noticed the warmth of their embrace, the big, soft hands cupping my mouth that muffled my screams, and that was it. And then there was darkness.