I briskly awake to the sound of my blaring alarm clock going off. I shut my eyes for three more restful seconds before slowly opening them. I see the honey gold stream of sunlight washing over the soft shadows of my room, developing every inch of dark.
As I stare at the ceiling, reality slowly sets in, eroding every last bit of detachment from my mind. This time my mind decides to clutch onto one last fragment of disassociation from this world, and I know that this is going to be a burdensome day.
It’s a Wednesday so I know I have to get up. Slowly I will my feet to come into contact with the chilling wood floors of my room, taking one step after another.
“Leana, are you up yet?” my mom yells from the top of the stairs.
“Yes,” I groan with all of the energy I can manage.
“Okay, you’re walking to school today, it’ll be good for you,” she yells back.
I don’t respond—there’s no arguing with her when it comes to “things that are good for me.” I lifelessly walk to my closet; I don’t have nearly enough energy this morning to pick an acceptable outfit, so I just throw on the bare minimum—jeans and a black hoodie. I put my thick frizzy hair into a messy bun, throw on some mascara (to at least look alive), then quickly run up the stairs.
As I walk into the kitchen I’m greeted with the smell of my mom’s wild rice pancakes. At least something good comes out of this day, I think to myself.
“What’s this for?” I ask as she frantically stands over the hot griddle. Usually it takes a holiday or extreme begging before she finally makes them for me.
“I was just in the mood for cooking this morning.” She turns around, smiling broadly as she looks at me.
She’s in a good mood so I halfheartedly smile back at her even though I’m not feeling it. I graciously gobble down the warm and crispy pancakes. Swiftly I wash my plate and kiss my mom goodbye before heading out the door.
Luckily, I have enough time to take my favorite path to get to school. It’s a little longer, but after a night of rain I know that the woods will be adorned with hazed-over fungi and bright green moss.
Walking through the woods, I notice the moss squishing beneath my feet, the trees swaying in the wind, and the birds constantly chirping. I can’t help but think about all the people that came before me walking this wooded path, the trees still small and the people not yet confined by the future I now live in.
I feel untethered as I run deep into the woods over fallen branches. I haven’t felt this way in a while. The feeling of being unchained, not worrying. It feels like I’m a child again in the way that everything feels magical, everything feels important and I can just be present.
I don’t want to tear myself back to the reality of my current life. I could just stay here and lay on the soft moss until flowers and fungus grow from the splits in my hair and animals make homes under the small of my back, till rain deliquesces my skin until I too become part of the earth.
I wish, I wish, I wish—that’s all life is now, wishing. Wishing is like a promise you give to yourself, but put into the hands of the universe instead of the reliability of your own.
I snap out of my euphoric state and rapidly get to my feet as I hear the muffled sound of the bell ringing. “Shoot.” Luckily I won’t be too late because the woods end in just a few feet and then it opens to the muted grassy field of my high school.
I run across the field and squeeze myself into the rushing rapids of my classmates filing in through the doors. I’m stardled with the robust scent of cardamom and lavender, with a sort of earthy undertone. I feel a chilling sensation rolling slowly down each vertebrae of my spine.
I abruptly turn to my left to see just what I was expecting, but am still unsettled by: light, transparent fabric draped over an outline of a body, a golden orb of energy placed perfectly in the center. It’s just drifting there staring at me as my classmates run right through it.
The beings never talk, they just stare sorrowfully at me. I get shoved a little closer to it and as I do, the aromas of cardamom and lavender get stronger. It turns around and slowly drifts away as if it’s just another pebble in the rushing rapids. I blink and then it’s gone along with the comforting scent, leaving me unsettled.
