Human skin

The tree trunks tightly wrap around me. I feel brushwood reaching up to my spine, poking and stinging against my fragile skin. I reach out my short arms, to grab the twigs and vines in front of me. Pulling myself through the difficult and unforgiving place I've found myself in.

No matter the way it may seem, I embarked on this harsh journey on my own will, and I cannot go back to where I was before. After all, in this forest I lost something most important to me.

As I keep moving through, small beetles take their opportunity to burrow and eat at my skin. Pushing through the prickly twigs, spiders apprehensively move and hide under the leaves where they feel safe.

I have lost the zipper to my human skin.

Cold raindrops from the leaves above drop down on me, and looking up I see.. nothing. Nothing, except for the tightly intertwined tropical branches and leaves. The leaves bouncing as they continuously receive and drop the dirty drops of water, almost as if they're playing a game of tag.

I don't remember when I lost my zipper. In fact, I had even managed to forget that I ever had it. But something always felt off. The soft rosy skin on my arms felt creased and folded, as if wearing wet rubber gloves. At last, I decided to trace the bulging at the end of my legs to realize I had a two-ended tail underneath.

Exhausted, I stop in my own tracks, letting the drops of water tag the synthetic skin on my face.