Chapter 7

My first sensation as my eyes open to a new day, is the feeling of a dry, stiffness on my skin. I raise a hand to it, curiosity dulling the pain of being alone. My fingernails scratch against my cheek, revealing a heavy crust of mud. In a flash, I remember falling asleep in the rain, my body squishing into the runny earth.

Realizing how absolutely filthy I am, I slowly lift myself from the ground, smoothing my hands over my skirt once I have stood. I take a moment to look about me, gaining my bearings. I know this forest so well, it is as if the forest and I are one. But still, I can not decide exactly where I am and so head off in a random direction, in search of a river.

For hours, I walk. This time, I have a purpose, though. My skin is hot under the layers of grime, my dress caked with dirt. A cool, refreshing bathh will soothe my tired flesh and perhaps distract me from my solitude.

But, during this time of quiet, I allow my mind to wander to more pleasant things. The smell of the fresh, lush forest fills my nostrils and the gentle swishing of the leaves in a breeze lulls me into a state of tranquility. The earth under my feet is soft and slightly warm, gently coaxing the hidden seeds it hold, to new birth. The idea of such concealed beauty fills me with a sense of wonder and peace.

In a state close to rapture, I raise my face to the sky, not smiling, but still contented. My pace quickens until I am running through the trees, silent but joyful. I leap over a fallen log and hit the ground at full speed, dodging branches and the small animals I startle with my passage. I run from the sense of abandonment, pursuing this rare moment of exultation.

The sound of gentle waters stops my headlong flight, leaving me panting and gasping for breath. I bend forward, hands on my knees, and breathe deeply until I can move forward. I straighten and take a few steps toward the open clearing.

This bare space in the heart of the forest is breathtakingly beautiful. The green-swathed trees seem to spread their branches like protecting arms, encircling the open spot of their forest. Specks of pollen and dust turn golden in the beams of sun, lighting on the clear water of the gently flowing river. Flowers, drinking in the life of the river, line its banks, their colorful faces nodding in the warmth of a breeze.

Awestruck, I stand still, attempting to breathe the beauty into my body. How can I possibly feel unhappy in the midst of such perfection?

Suddenly, I realize how starkly I contrast with the tranquil setting, covered in mud as I am. How can I possibly join this idyllic place in my current state? I feel so ridiculous, I almost laugh. But, of course, I don't.

I walk closer to the banks of the river, stripping off my filthy gown and laying it at the water's edge. Now, clad in a thin shift, I walk into the water until I am immersed to my neck, then swiftly duck under its depths. The accumulated dirt washes from my skin and hair as I resurface and float on my back. I could lay here forever, I imagine. I could float away.

Struggling with my mind, I force the thoughts of desperation that spill into my once-content mind, to quiet. My mind screams that I should just float away. No one would miss me and my suffering would finally end. Part of me battles my mind, the part that shouts its will to live. I don't know why I have hope for life. One thousand years has not proven worthwhile. Why should the future?

I contemplate this, debating back and forth, until a sudden sound awakens my feuding mind. It is the distinct sound of twigs breaking underfoot. I am not alone.