Everything Happens For A Reason

Chapter One

I'm running.
That's all I know, and it's all I need to know to survive right now.
I don't know where I am.
I don't know where I'm going.
And I don't know what I'll do when I get there.
But does it really matter?
Does it matter how I live my life in the future if I can't get through the present?
The leaves and branches of nearby trees hit my face as I run. I keep my eyes focused on the ground so I don't trip and so I can focus on what's in front of my instead of what's behind.
"Everything happens for a reason."
My mum.
I bite back tears and refuse to acknowledge the emotions coursing through me.
What happened to you certainly could not have had a logical reason, mum.
'It doesn't matter', I chide myself. 'What's done is done, and you can't change the past. You can only work harder to improve the future.'
I work harder by pushing myself further through the- forest? Woods? Semantics. The twigs slap my face and the pain distracts me from the feelings bubbling up inside of me.
I still don't know where I am. Taking out my compass will do me no good; it'll only tell me the direction I'm going. 'I suppose, if I go far enough north, I have to hit Canada at some point.'
That's actually not a bad idea. It would certainly take me a while to get there, but I could do it.
The sun is setting in the sky and I begin to slow my pace, looking at my surroundings as I prepare to find a place to sleep. I haven't stopped to sleep since I started running, two days ago. Short breaks and power naps, yes; eight hours of sleep seems foreign to me at this point. Pausing when I saw berries and then continuing- it's almost like a marathon.
A marathon that can and will never end.
Coming to a complete stop, I take in the area around me. Dark oak trees with dense foliage surround me; it provides a perfect cover for a girl who doesn't want to be found. The high-rising trees have plenty of limbs for me to stretch out on, and I do. Taking off my faded backpack, I open it and remove the tarp and rope I've had stashed in my bag for years. Climbing a tree with lower branches, I clamber up limbs until I am out of direct eyesight from the ground and form a hammock.
'I suppose all those years of camping in the backyard finally paid off.'
Yeah. Something positive finally came out of my childhood other than my outlook on life.
Snorting from the irony and improbability, I settle into my 'hammock' and get comfortable. Considering the amount of sleep debt built up from the last 72 hours, I can rest assured that I'll be sleeping for a while. With my backpack under my head, I begin to drift off into a much-needed slumber.