2

To say that this life isn't what I had envisioned for myself is an understatement. I mean, no one wants to watch their mother deteriorate in front of their eyes, knowing there is nothing that can be done to help her. Before her diagnosis, I had dreams. I wanted to go to college in the year round sunshine on some southern California beach, maybe even take surf lessons. The world was mine for the taking, back then. All I had to do was reach out and take it. I had started a Pinterest board on how I would decorate my dorm; tons of blue hues, natural light, and framed artwork that hopefully my roommate would enjoy too. It seems so silly now, how it was planned out. How I had allowed myself to believe that life could be so easy. That I would graduate and spread my wings to fly. I'd leave the snow and harsh winters behind, and I would only come back for mom. How naive it was. In reality, my mom was diagnosed, and I was left orphaned in less than six months. My life was derailed in what felt like a heartbeat. I was placed in my first foster home a month later. Every dream I had went up in smoke and all the money my mom had been saving for my education was depleted by the doctors, pharmacies, and hospitals. In the end, I was alone with nothing but two backpacks full of what had been deemed 'important'. I don't think I will ever forgive those adults who gave me fifteen minutes to sift through an entire lifetime and condense it all into two bags. Sometimes as I lay awake on that lumpy futon, I dream of leaving. Of packing up those bags again for the millionth time, and disappearing. Here one minute, gone the next, just like my mom was. I have a little money saved up, stashed around the room like a squirrel hiding his food, but its nowhere near enough to get me out of here. Sure, it's enough to get me out of Crest Falls, but I would end up in another small town, working as a waitress just trying to save up money to get to the next small town. What good will that do me? When I get out of here, I want to leave this all behind for something better. I want to go somewhere I belong; that place that is calling my soul like a siren song. Maybe that's too much to ask for? Maybe some of us are never meant to break free. I stare out the window of my apartment, at the forest that stretches behind the diner. The more I stare, the more the walls feel like they're closing in on me. The room feels hot, the air stuffy as I stare outside. Breathe in, Breathe out. Breathe past the lump tightening in your throat. Past the tears flooding your eyes and the misery you're drowning in. "Don't you know it's gonna be all right," my voice is shaky even to my ears from all the emotions that crash through me like a tidal wave. I stand quickly, barely thinking to grab my coat as I rush towards the door. Fresh air will help. Fresh air always helps clear out the thoughts in my head. I don't know how much time has passed before the trees stopped blurring together, and the world was less blurred by my tears. The sun is low in the sky, the light filtering through the canopy of trees gives the forest an ethereal feel. I'm enchanted by it - almost to the point of complete calm. The air is cool against my skin and I breathe deep, deeper than I think I have in months. I could stay here. Hideaway from the world, leaving all my sorrow and heartache back there at Erin's diner. A chill runs down my spine and a feeling of uneasiness washes over me. My eyes skim the trees, looking for something that I cannot name - not yet anyway. I don't want to admit that out here alone, with the sun setting beyond the horizon, I suddenly feel that I am not alone. But rather, I am being watched. "Hello?" Leaves crunch under my boots as I slowly turn in a circle. I see nothing unusual as I search and search and search again. I'm not alone. Of this fact, I am now certain. My heart is racing, I can hear the beat like a drum echoing in my ears. On instinct, I take a step back towards the direction of the diner. And then another. And another. Rustling leaves from behind me have me freezing midstep. I turn slower than a snail and freeze - even the air freezes in my chest. My blue eyes locking with the giant wolf that was blocking my path. Why did I not think that there would be wild animals out here that might want to have me on the menu for dinner? Of all the useless facts that I keep in my brain, nothing about wolves comes to mind. Can they sense fear? I'm as good as dead if they do. Maybe they're like bears and I should play dead? Or perhaps more like a shark and I need to punch it in the nose. Have those facts actually been proven? The large gray wolf is not even three feet away from me, but he hasn't moved an inch either. His eyes, the color of fall leaves, staring at me intently, far too intently for what I would think a wild animal capable of if I was being honest. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. This is how I die, and I need to accept it. A small shriek leaves my mouth when I open them to find the wolf has closed the distance between us. His nose pressing lightly against my coat, sniffing me gently. I take a step back, tripping over something - probably myself- and land ungracefully on my butt. Well, it's as good a time as any to play dead. I curl into a ball, putting my hands around my head in a fetal position. I hold in my scream, as his breath fans across some of my exposed skin, the warmth leaving goosebumps in its wake. I don't want to frighten him, but every time his wet nose brushes against me, I fight the urge to jump. It's too late to hope that I won't be his dinner and I start thinking my final goodbyes. A sickening crunch fills the air and I scream, momentarily thinking he bit me. I stop mid-scream, realizing that I am fine, perfect if not for the leaves that are sticking to my hair. My eyes opened slowly, barely daring myself to look past my arm. Even with the little light that remained, I am certain that where the wolf had been only seconds ago, now stood a very tall, very n***d, man. His muscled chest rising and falling with every breath he takes as if he had just run here. I'm dead. The crunch I heard was in fact the wolf killing me and this man is an angel waiting to take me to the next life. But why is he n***d? "Should I be n***d too?" my mouth moves before I can rationally think about the words, and I sit up, my hands grabbing at the coat. The man's eyes snapped to mine, his green eyes illuminated like a spotlight - they look identical to the wolf that was just here. "That won't be necessary," His voice is deep and smooth like velvet as it washes over me and my heart takes off in my chest. It takes me a solid minute to realize that if I were dead, my heart would not be beating like that. I'm alive and I just asked a random man in the woods why he was n***d. There is a n***d man standing in the woods staring down at you. I stand quickly, brushing off the dirt and leaves from my clothes as the n***d man pulls a pair of jeans out of seemingly nowhere. "I'm sorry if I scared you," His hand reaches out for mine once his pants are on. Against all better thought, and more out of politeness and well-taught manners, I hesitantly shake it, "I'm Caspian." "Mia," I said carefully, still unsure about what's going on, "Why are you n***d in the woods?" His laugh is light, the sound a rich melody as he runs his hand through his dirty blonde hair. I don't miss the way the muscles in his arms flex with the motion, but I do my best to focus on his face. "I was looking for something out here," His eyes met mine and his expression became serious, "And I found you, Mia,"