I woke up to the smell of dirt in my nose and the feeling of it in my mouth; my mind could not conjure up a better way to wake up.
I raised his head; my face smudged from the soil and squinted my eyes against the bright and burning sun. When I opened them again, I looked at the grass ahead of me, it was no longer sprinkled with morning dew, it was only swaying softly in the wind.
Rolling my body, I have lain on my back, looking into the sun, it seemed to relax every aching muscle. The sun seemed to heal every cut and scratch on my naked body, if I were older and had experienced more feelings, he would be able to say that this was the best feeling, but I was young and I didn't know.
Determination was a match; action was a flame. I felt the match of determination burst into fire without action, without flame. With the unexplainable, blazing energy coursing through my body, my eyes shot open, bearing the resemblance of a fire's hearth.
I got up with a newfound strength and ran. I dashed through the fields and meadows until I saw what I wanted to see.
What I saw was a few steppingstones that made up a small stretch of floor, a wall standing over the almost pavement, a wooden ladder leaning against the paneled wall and a chair in the middle of it all.
It was a place I used to go as a child. I knew where I was now. I was not lost.
I didn't see all that was there, for that he was still too far away. My feet carried me so fast that I could be mistaken for a bolt of lightning.
The thumping of my feet was my song of survival, my fight song.
The fire inside me was spreading faster than wildfire. The fire was burning in my bones; it was burning my bones to their marrow.
I was moving through the air like rain. Slipping between its atoms effortlessly as if that's what I did from dawn until dusk, as if that was what I was meant to do from the beginning of time, and yet this was the first time I have felt this way.
The strange arrangement of objects seemed to be in the palm of my hand, but no matter how long or how fast I ran, I could not reach it.
Clouds were moving overhead much like the birds.
I ran for years. I never once doubted my determination, but what I did doubt was the proximity in which I saw the array of things, I didn't know if I really saw all the elements of it or if it was just my mind showing me a distant memory.
For never once doubting my determination I was rewarded with the distant memory becoming close. I was out of breath, but the adrenaline in my veins would not stop rushing.
I took a step and stood on the cold stone flooring. Once I stood on it time seemed to stop. I looked at what was around me only to find that nothing has changed.
I couldn't remember for how long I was gone, it felt like a day, but I knew it must have been years since the last time I was here.
My old clothes were still hanging on the old ladder which was being reclaimed by nature with leaves twirling around it, but no plant dared to touch my clothes. I felt so foreign and out of place as I pulled said clothes on my body.
When the last article of clothing was sitting on my body, I turned to address the one thing that did change.
Poisonous ivy snaked its way almost all over the only wooden wall and the ladder that was propped against it. Along the bottom was grass and even flowers. The chair that I had dragged in front of the wall was now sprawled on its side with grass growing over it. Nature tried its hardest to take this piece of land back given the fact that grass forced its way around the chair through the stone that it was laying on.
To me the chair looked more beautiful than ever. I didn't know how it got into that fatal position when no one's been here since I left, but I was too overwhelmed by the beauty of it to concern himself with the little details of the situation.
Instead, I was concerning myself with the little details on the chair. I sat on the ground next to it.
I would always sit on the chair, but in that moment, it was far too breathtaking to be ripped out of its bed of flowers.
I stared at the wall for a long time, I always did, that was the reason for the chair's placement, conveniently in front of the wall.
There was something about that wall, the way the wood curved and twisted, the holes and the indents, the way it creaked when I pressed my fingers against it. The wall alone was stunning, but with the leaves and the flowers it was mesmerizing. Looking at it felt like heartbreak that could be healed just by the smell of the old wood. The flowers were intoxicating. They were far too beautiful to not be poisonous. The smell of them was like a drug that would be addicting to most, to me as well.
I kept wondering how such flowers were able to grow in a sad place like this. I knew I wouldn't find a reason why. It was a pleasant secret and I wanted to keep it that way.
I liked talking to the chair, even when I wasn't alone, talking to the chair made me feel some sort of way, even more so now that it was overgrowing with those poisonous, pretty flowers.
I ran my fingers over the petals thinking that maybe I was the wind. I felt as if that could be true, but the feeling soon vanished.
Maybe the wind heard me, because it started blowing, stirring the air all around me. Now that I felt the wind blowing against my face, I realized I couldn't quite be the wind or anything like it for that matter.
I didn't have the energy to whip myself through the whole world and sway the greenery; I only wanted to sit next to the chair and never get up.
I rested his head on one of the chair's legs and fell into a deep sleep. I slept even though I was no longer tired.
My physical tiredness was erased by the amount of sleep I have gotten. But the exhaustion of my soul would take years to satiate.
I didn't know I would be sleeping for centuries if I knew I would have chosen a much more comfortable position.
Sleeping on the chair was comfortable for a limited amount of time.
My sleep went far past those limits; therefore I woke up to excruciating pain from having dozens of splinters in my right cheekbone.
After I woke up andlooked around, everything was different and yet still the same.
